#(this happens in human trafficking too)

[the-life-of-a-herm]

Remenber folks, human trafficking isn't always sex slavery. Labor trafficking is a huge majority of it too.

It isn't always 'kidnapped off the street and forced to be a hooker'. Sometimes it's lured into a job then being forced to stay, because you genuinely have no other viable means of living. Sometimes it's done by people you know.

There's a lot of different ways to be trafficked, and it is a disservice to people in these situations and those who want to be safe from them to spread misinformation and misconceptions on what trafficking can look like. Knowledge is power. If you want to help traffivking victims, start with first educating yourself.

[hauntingblue]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO EXECUTION DAY DECIDED NOOOOOOOOO

[crepezinhos]

Anatomy Practices

POV: While walking around the cafeteria in search of a table to sit and eat your lunch, a man unexpectedly rose from his seat and bumped into you with great force, all his worksheets skyrocketing out of his binder and gliding in the air. You decided to help the man out and knelt down to grab some of his fallen sheets, but it was inevitable to ignore how the woman he repeatedly drew over and over in all the sheets resembled you.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere, Suggestive SFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Obsessive, disgusting and creepy behavior, stalking, invasion of privacy and implications of masturbation.

— Artist!Sunday x Artist!Reader

— AU is: Modern College

The Cafeteria during second lunch was when it was most chaotic. Having students coming in and going out of it at the same time made its paths extremely trafficked and unorganized, especially in the lines for food.

Knowing how much effort and time it takes to set yourself in a table, you preferred to bring your own homemade lunch and avoid the waste of time in the line for food, especially when you considered its mediocre quality compared to your food. But even with this gimmick of yours, you’ve still lost almost 5 minutes walking around in search of a isolated table where the concentration of sound and people wasn’t so dense and deafening.

When you finally found yourself walking between halls and tables that weren’t too crowded, you sighed in relief. Finally having your arms and backpack free of random bumps felt amazing. It felt even greater to know you didn’t have a tray in your hands that ran the risk of turning everything on top of it around if you bumped too hard on some—

POW!

Unexpectedly, the man that was sat in one of the tables you were passing through got up from his seat and immediately rushed in the contrary way, resulting in a hard bump between you two.

Although neither of you were impacted enough to fall in the floor, the same couldn’t be said for the binder the man held in his hands and the glasses in his eyes, that immediately slammed into the floor with its many papers inside it brutally flying away from it. You weren’t exactly bothered with it since nothing happened to you, but the man was immediately bothered with it as soon as he realized all his stuff fell so horribly on the floor.

“Shit!” He cussed while kneeling down in the floor with a worried expression, beginning to pick up those sheets.

Leaving him alone picking it up would be the optimal option for you, but also extremely rude. The both of you had places to be and you assumed he was heading to class seeing how he was leaving a tray with half-eaten food in the table and carrying his materials in his hands, which was more important than your lunch according to your sense of empathy. So you knelt down after he did more slowly, looking forward to speed up both your routines.

“I-I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t realize lunch was over and I’m late to class!” He refused to look up to you while he tried to reorganize his papers, even if he was without his glasses, so you couldn’t quite recognize who you bumped with… but you were pretty sure of who he was thanks to his flapping cranial wings.

Sunday Oak.

“No, no! It’s ok!” You started reaching down for his papers too, especially the ones that had slid behind you.

You grabbed a group of 3 sheets that luckily remained together and turned upside down even after the fall, and due to pure curiosity, you decided to take a quick peek at them. After all, you knew exactly how Sunday Oak did his art and it provoked your curiosity. He’s a weird nerdy guy that lives a few apartments away from you and shares two art classes with you. You were always a bit annoyed at him because of how he always outshone everyone else’s artwork and set high standard for the teachers, but you had nothing personal against him, and truthfully, you had a lot of respect and admiration for his art. It was sensible, humane, emotional and beautifully rendered, and Sunday himself was a very respectable man. Even if you weren’t a professional yet, you could proudly say he was a genius in ascension.

Unfortunately, your relationship with him does not go any further than that. You’d see and interact with him daily, and although he seemed to enjoy these little moments, he always seemed to avoid you at the same time. You never understood why and maybe there was nothing to understand, but you still wanted to use this opportunity to try getting to know more of him.

So you finally took a look at the papers you picked.

…

…

…

…

Oh?

What the…

You couldn’t exactly say you were surprised to learn that Sunday Oak had a like in drawing NSFW. He has the maturity for it. But you were surprised at one thing.

The paper you were staring at was covered with multiple doodles of a single naked woman either posing or being fucked by something… a woman that looked exactly like you.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t analyze it too much because the papers were suddenly latched away from your hands, accompanied by a scared gasp before the act.

“M-Ms. Y/N..?!” Sunday was looking at you even more nervous now, as if he had finally realized who he bumped with. “I-I’m sorry f-for cussing a-and not talking to you, I didn’t see it was you! A-A-And you don’t really need to help me with these! I-It’s ok! It’s my business! Y-You can go!” He clutched those papers against his chest as if it was his own heart.

“No, no, no! Please, allow me to help you!” You couldn’t help but pause to giggle at his extreme anxiety. “You must know how much I like your works anyway, so it’s an honor for me to help you out.” You winked at him, and his eyes simply widened even more along with his cheeks growing a pink tone.

“You… what?” His voice was barely above a whisper as he tried to process what you said.

“I… really like your works.” You repeated with no hint of embarrassment, although the man now looked like he had fully frozen.

“Y-You do..?” He asked again, still not blinking once and his wings clinging closer to his face.

“Yeah!” You shrugged your shoulders while leaning down again to go back at picking up the fallen papers, but Sunday did not go back to the work for a few seconds.

“O-Oh… Thank you.” Finally he went back to collecting his papers again, but in a way slower pace as yours. You could even feel his eyes peeking at you every now and then, but you decided to ignore them.

Instead, you tried focusing more on what you were picking. Assuming he was flattered with what you said, you thought it was okay to keep looking at his doodles, but when he finally realized you were still peeking at them before giving it back to him, he finally broke the silence between you two again.

“I-I… Uhh… You’re not exactly supposed to be looking at these works, Ms. Y/N. They’re very personal.” His cranial wings worked together to cover his mouth as he took another group of sheets you had grabbed for him, quickly censoring the artwork stamped on it from you.

“I’m sorry… I just really find it interesting how this woman you like to draw really looks like me.” You explained your reasoning to him honestly, but seeing how embarrassed he was when you pointed that out, it immediately hit you that you should definitely take your words back. “Don’t me get me wrong, I really like these! I think you draw the female body beautifully! There’s no need to be ashamed of it! Or at least with me! And we all draw a few naked people here and there every now and then anyway…” You shrugged your shoulders lightly, although you were also starting to feel a little embarrassed too.

“Oh, uh…” Sunday looked down, deciding to fix the position of his glasses for no apparent reason. “T-Thank you… again.” He smiled, but it was surprisingly eerie, as if there was something else making him happy. “A-And… uhhh… I-It’s not you.” He whispered very lowly, head leaning down even further while his wings covered half of his eyes now, avoiding any eye contact with you.

“What did you say?” You leaned a little closer to him, but he only repelled your proximity.

“I-It’s not… you…” He said with little to zero confidence in your perspective, but maybe he was just having a hard time talking about something so personal.

“Oh!” You paused to think about what he said since you didn’t catch it at first. “Well, then, is it an OC?” You tried acting a bit more curious and excited about his work to make the conversation less awkward.

“Uh… yeah! An OC. It’s just an OC.” You could hear him whisper that phrase a few other times but you decided to ignore it. “S-Sorry if it bothers you that she’s… uhh… very similar to you…” His hands involuntarily started clutching on the piled sheets.

“That’s ok! As long as she isn’t an OC for some sort of porn movie, I’m ok with it!” You laughed at your own pun, and he decided to laugh along too, but you could sense how untruthful it was.

“N-No… it’s just… uhhhh… anatomy practices.” Sunday decided to start moving again and collecting those sheets before he had a heart attack in front of you.

“Cool! You’re great at it! I think I could fit to be your muse for her if you’d like.” You winked at him with a little smirk, obviously punning with him, but the way his wings spread when you said that and the way he looked at you told you he didn’t sense the irony.

“M-My… muse..?” His eyes shone brightly as he looked up to you, his body almost entirely stiffened again.

“Pffffttt… no! I’m just messing with ya!” You gently punched his shoulder, which immediately made Sunday wake up to reality and fix his glasses again.

“O-Oh… Sorry.” His wings quickly curled back to his face again and he went back to his mission.

You decided to follow his actions and go back to helping him out, but your attention was surprisingly caught by another detail in his artwork and you were too curious to let it go. When you grabbed a group of two pages, for some reason they glued to each other. It didn’t have any hint of glue or tape on it, so you decided to investigate.

“How old are these pages, anyway? These are the crunchiest pages I’ve ever seen!” You giggled as you forced those pages away from each other, a gluey noise following their separation. “Some of them even have stains…” You said, running your fingers on top of a stained spot in one of the sketches, signaling there was once a pool of something on top of the naked woman he had drawn.

Sunday’s skin tone dropped to a pale tone again as you did so, more than he did before when he realized he was talking to you.

“Uhh… T-They’re very old indeed… A-Almost 3 years practicing the female anatomy…” He scratched the back of his neck, as nervous as a liar. “B-But it’s just water..! Sometimes incidents happen, don’t they..?!” He asked as he pointed to the stain you were touching, trying his best to achieve your validation.

“Yeah, of course! Stupid water… always ruining the most beautiful sketches…” You handed him the pages, and he quickly took them, taking a closer look at the stains and analyzing them, before shoving them down the pile he was making.

“Yeah… haha…” His laugh sounded more honest now, sighing in relief.

“But do you ever glue some pages together sometimes? This doesn’t look like water’s work…” You had to stop helping him out to separate a pair of pages again.

“Uhhh… y-yeah..? I-I… Sometimes I feel too embarrassed to acknowledge some of… uhhh… my sexier products, so I glue them together…” He shrugged his shoulders and finally started putting his feet in the floor to stand up again.

Your missions with him was done. All his sheets had been collected. All that he needed to do now was reorganize them and put them back to his binder, which was something you probably would not be able to help him with.

“Really? But these are beautiful! You shouldn’t do that to them!” You stood up again, following Sunday, and putting your hands on your hips confidently.

“Y-You think so..? T-Thank you…” Sunday hugged his binder tight, looking at you a little weird again.

“Yeah! Keep it up!” You nodded your head, but unfortunately it started to click you how much time you’ve used of your precious lunch break, so you quickly started to tidy up. “I’m sorry for distracting you, Sunday. You should rush to your class.” You scratched the back of your neck as you told him those rude words, trying to laugh it off.

“N-No.” He rose a hand to you, as if he was trying to stop you from walking away. “I should be the one apologizing. I was the one who bumped into you a-and so I’m the one that wasted your time.” But Sunday quickly put his hand back to his hinder in embarrassment, his cheeks growing a little pink again.

“It’s ok! No need to worry!” You shrugged your shoulders, your joyful smile coming back to your lips for a quick moment. “Anyway, see ya in Ms. Ruan Mei’s class!” Due to your need to eat, you didn’t give Sunday a to answer you and immediately walked past him, leaving him standing in the corridor.

…

…

…

…

“See you.”

…

…

…

…

She noticed me.

She noticed my art.

She likes my art.

My art of her.

Does she truthfully like it? Or is she just being the kind, joyful, optimistic woman she is? Her pure innocence made it seem fake for a moment, but somehow that’s just not I view it. It sounded real. It looked real. I want it to be real.

And she wants me to keep up. Is she sure she wants me to keep up with these? If she was aware that it was truly her or the things that I’ve done to get the references of those arts or even how abysmal my feelings are for her, would she still want me to keep it up?

After so many nights I’ve spent stalking her everywhere she went, whether it was inside or outside the campus, secretly taking pictures of every angle I could get of her in every sort of outfit she had, even when the outfit was nothing but her beautiful skin, and recreating it all with my pencil. After so many times I’ve snaked inside her apartment when she was out and got my hands on her material, clothes, products and even underwear simply to savor it with my hands, marking my territory on it.

How disgusted would she be to find out those stains in my arts were not water, and instead my own very essence? The product of the many times I couldn’t resist the temptation of my own work and messed it up with shameless masturbation? How badly would she regret to once have told me to keep up with this abnormal side of mine if she knew it?

A side that is so personal and sinful to me, that was never supposed to be seen by anyone but me, got complimented and touched by its own victim.

I could even feel it in my body when she touched those stains. Was she flirting with me? Did she figure I was lying all along and accepted it? Does she enjoy pathetic guys like me? With secret, disgusting and pathetic habits like this?

She really meant it when she said she wanted me to keep up, didn’t she? Don’t you worry, Y/N. I’ll keep it up. I want to do these just as much as you want it too.

I’ll draw you in every position imaginable.

I’ll draw you in every fantasy imaginable.

I might even start adding myself to these artworks.

Taglist: @gaboplaydespacito

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[starryrock]

Canon crimes that have happened in Twisted-Wonderland.

I am not counting general magic usage as a weapon unless it’s someone’s Unique Magic or used with extreme intent on bodily suffering. Other than these exceptions, standard legal definitions of a weapon apply as normal.

Attempted murder - Any Overblot victim, plus others.

Human trafficking (on a technicality) - Fellow Honest and Gino.

Kidnapping - Shrouds, Jamil Viper, Fellow Honest and Gino.

Assault and battery

Aggravated assault - Overblot victims, Rollo Flamme, Ortho Shroud, Ferrymen, Deuce Spade (exception: cauldron), Rook Hunt (maybe?? Usage of bow and arrow)

Arson - Grim, Ace Trappola, Jamil Viper (attempted during Magicam Monsters), Lilia Vanrouge (kitchen)

Doxxing - Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud (threatened)

Coercion

Signing a contract under duress - Octavinelle trio.

Breaking and entering

Inducing panic - Ruggie Bucchi, Rollo Flamme, Fellow Honest and Gino.

Property damage

Chemical/biological weapons - Vil Schoenheit, Lilia Vanrouge (should be)

Blackmail

Child abuse (labor/neglect) - Dire Crowley, Ashton Vargas

Stalking - Rook Hunt, Jade Leech (possibly)

Theft

Harassment - Rook Hunt

Bribery - Dire Crowley, Azul Ashengrotto

Extortion

The ones that don’t have anyone listed is either because too many cast members have committed it or I just didn’t care to list them.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[briarscreek]

141 rescuing a hostage who was in the middle of rescuing herself

it’s your basic situation of traveling a new country for a bit but getting tricked into human trafficking. hey, the tour guide deal online was too good to pass up and you had a coupon. it’s not your fault.

unfortunately for your captors you over prepared for your trip because you had a hunch this might happen while solo traveling.

anyways, the handlers didn’t even do much except hint that you might be worth good money and tie you to a chair. whatever, you’re not gonna sit here on your ass waiting for someone else to help you. with a quick tug on your boot, you pulled the tiny hidden knife free and quickly cut the ropes on your hands. before leaving you checked the dirty room around you for anything that might help you but it was unfortunately empty besides the chair. oh well, next is getting the fuck out of there.

with hurried steps, you sneaked towards the door to find the door knob trying to move on it’s own. it was locked from your side but why would these oafs try to open the door without the key that they have? maybe if you swing the door open you can surprise them with…something. steeling your resolve you quickly unlock the door and swing it open. what you did not expect was a large foot to hit your torso and knock the wind out of you, making you land on your back.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” you rush out now groaning on the floor trying to catch your breath.

“Christ, bonnie ‘re you ‘lright?”

“Nice goin’ McTavish”

“Was your idea to kick it down, Ghost”

“Yea but you didn’t stop when it opened did ya?”

“Shut it, both of ya”

The fourth soldier who hadn’t spoken yet came down to kneel beside you.

“Are you alright?” He offered his hand to help sit you up.

“As alright as someone who got the wind kicked out of them, but yea I’m just peachy” you sat up with a groan.

“American? What are you doin all the way out here?” The one with mutton chops asked.

“Thought I’d frolic around in an abandoned building. What do you think I’m doing here?”

God, these men are just unbelievable.

What a way to meet your future husband, huh?

[witherby]

SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG EL forgeting about my last idea since its kind of generic (this one is also but whateverrrrrhahahsg)

so you know Starfire is an alien right?(tamaranean) how about something where reader is a sort of alien too? (x damian too bc im starting to hyper fixate on him) and like they meet as Damian does patrolling/a mission, kind of how Dick and Star met!!

ill leave if up to there and if you like it!! ANYWAY HI EL!!

—🦈

HI SHARKY.

I was gonna finish writing the vampire!Jason prompt but I saw this and immediately fell into a fugue state instead. When I came out, it was with this. I hope you like it 🩷

Flight of Fancy

Damian Wayne x Winged!Reader

Featuring: language barriers (gibberish), a shoulder wound, and a kiss.

It had started out as a routine track-and-report mission. Damian was supposed to investigate the suspicious cargo shipments in Gotham Harbor, try to figure out what was being delivered, and come back to the Cave with his findings.

Tim's bet was human trafficking. Dick's was illegal arms dealing. Jason's was drugs. Damian guessed poaching. Bruce wanted them to stop making bets about what horrible thing of the week was going on and please focus on getting the task done.

(Bruce was just upset that he wasn't allowed to bet anymore because he kept winning.)

As the night drags on and the boredom starts to creep in, Damian wonders if the ship sitting on the loading dock is actually conducting legal business for once. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, and it would mean less follow-up work to do.

"Red Robin," Damian mutters into his comm, "there's been no activity for three hours. I'm about to declare this endeavor a wasted one and return to base."

"Copy," Tim says in his ear. "There's no spooky stuff happening on the computer, either. Give it ten more minutes and then come back."

"Understood." Damian shifts on his perch — an unsurveilled roof of a tailoring shop — and casts his gaze along the area for the thousandth time that night.

Cold, choppy waters, devoid of any suspicious activity. Dock workers walking around and doing their jobs as they chatter and whistle amongst each other, devoid of any suspicious activity. The cargo ship that docked an hour ago, devoid of any suspicious —

Well. It wasn't suspicious until he realized that the distant ringing he's heard all night wasn't interference from the dinky, little radio one of the workers has been using to blast old, jazzy tunes, but a shrill crying noise coming from the ship. A normal person wouldn't even be able to detect it, but years of training with the League taught Damian to filter and identify any and all noises he picks up automatically.

"Red Robin. I've identified a potential trafficking situation. Stand by."

"Copy. Standing by," Tim says. "Ready to dispatch EMTs on your word and receive that fifty bucks when you get back."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunts, grappling down the building and taking cover in the shadows, maneuvering his way around the harbor men and onto the ship without a sound.

The closer he gets, the louder the crying becomes. He can tell it's just one person making the sound, and that they seem to be locked in one of the titanium crates on the back of the ship. It's child's play to locate the right one and pop the lock open with the small hand laser from his tool bag.

The second it's gone the lid flies open, and Damian gets knocked down by someone he can only describe as ethereal.

You are a collection of stand-out features. Glowing, bright eyes. A wild mane of hair. Well-tailored, form fitting robes. And a huge, breathtaking pair of white wings, that unfurl from your back and shake out into their full width with barely a whisper of sound.

You're bleeding, Damian realizes belatedly. You're bleeding gold. It drips from a wound in your shoulder, running down the sleeve of your robe and soaking the fabric. Small beads trail down your fingertips and stain his chest where you're using your weight to pin him to the ground.

"Whoa," he mutters, because that's the only thing in his mind. Just. Whoa.

You furrow your brow and glare at him, muttering something in a dialect he doesn't understand. The confusion on his face must be evident, because you quickly become frustrated.

"Ira neshmi le-hyr!" You demand, waving the wrist of your other hand in his face, which has a LexCorp-branded tracking bracelet on it. There are faint scratch marks around the skin where you obviously tried to pry the device off.

"Robin? What's the situation? Am I dispatching EMT?" Tim's voice sounds in his ear, startling Damian into taking full stock of the situation again. He blinks a few times, picking up on bootsteps approaching his location, your increasing franticness from where you're knelt above him, and the riskiness of what he's about to do.

"No EMTs," Damian says, reaching for the handheld laser again. He holds it up for you to see, then gestures to your wrist.

You hesitate for only a moment, then offer him your arm and watch him slice the bracelet off and pocket it. With a quick sleight of band, he presses a tracker of his own into the sleeve of your robes, then urges you to get off him.

"Bad people are coming," he says, gesturing to the shadows of figures he can see getting closer. "You should come with me. I can get you somewhere safe."

You stare at him like you don't understand what he's saying. He lets out a frustrated sigh. There's no time for this.

"Me. You. Come with me. That way." He gestures to you, then himself, then points in the direction of the Bat Cave with urgency.

Your eyes dart to where he points, then you nod. He's about to try to figure out how to pantomime you tucking your wings in so you can sneak around better, but you stride forward, wrap your arms around his waist, and use them to take off into the air. Damian clings to you and yelps, drawing the attention of the men on the ship. There's a cacophony of shouting down below that quickly grows faint the farther away you fly.

"The package is escaping!! Someone call the boss!"

"Do we shoot it down?"

"No, you idiot! We need it alive! We'll track it down —"

The rest of their words are lost to the wind. Damian holds onto you with white knuckles and refuses to look down. It's too dark and too smoggy in Gotham to look up at the stars, so the only other thing to observe is you.

If he thought you were stunning on the ground, you're something else in the air. The wind pushes your hair around and out of your face, revealing small markings around your cheeks and eyes. The light your wings catch makes them almost glitter with every beat as you propel the two of you onward. Briefly, you travel over a more illuminated section of the city, which make your eyes look like little constellations.

He's utterly captivated.

"Nirr'm? Luola stesh?" You try to ask him, directing your gaze to him. Damian has no idea how to answer a question he can't understand, so he just points to the ground.

You scan around for a secluded spot to land and gently coast to the ground, setting him down. Damian locks his knees to keep them from buckling and takes several slow, deep breaths.

"I can't understand you," he says after a moment. You furrow your brows again. "And based on your expression, it's vice-versa."

"Robin, come in!" Tim says in his ear, and, oh, he'd forgotten that he stopped responding for ten minutes. "I'm tracking your location and it says you're four miles away from the harbor? What's your status? Do I need to send Batman in for backup?"

"Negative, do not send backup. Don't send EMTs, either."

"You said there was a trafficking situation?"

"Yeah," Damian says, "metahuman trafficking. Don't send anyone until I can figure out how to communicate that they wouldn't be a threat."

"Communicate? What, they don't speak any of the thousand languages you know?"

Damian doesn't respond.

"Oh, shit. Okay. Standing by."

While he'd been talking to Tim, you had inched your way closer and closer to Damian. When he focuses on you again, he almost flinches back after finding you less than a foot away. You perk up when you notice him give you attention and lift your hands up, curling them around his shoulders.

"Um," he mutters, "what are you doing?"

"De-ad'nin," you say, leaning closer. Your eyes don't leave his. "Hmnik?"

"I don't...I can't understand you," he says again. You're waiting for him to do something, he can tell that much. He just doesn't know what you want.

You lean in even more, practically sharing breath. Damian can feel his cheeks warming, but curiosity overwhelms the impropriety, so he doesn't move away. You seem to take this as some sort of permission.

Closing the gap, you press your mouth to his, and Damian freezes.

Soft, he thinks. Your lips are soft. His hands twitch at his sides as he fights the urge to grab your waist, but you have no such reservations as you press yourself practically flush against him and prod at the seam of his mouth with your tongue. A frankly embarrassing whine leaves him, but Damian relents and starts kissing you back with the same level of enthusiasm you show him. Even though his gloves, he can tell that your hair is ridiculously soft as he runs his fingers through it. He's briefly lost in a flurry of sensations, overwhelmed by you, and just when blood starts redirecting itself to other places, you pull away again and clear your throat.

"You helped me," you murmur, slowly and steadily, like you're testing out the words as you say them. "You set me free. Thank you."

"...you're...welcome?" Damian pants, his mind still a little gooey. "Wait, that's English. You're — did you kiss me to learn English?"

"I did," you smile. "I needed to convey my gratitude in your common tongue. I hope I didn't offend you."

Offend was definitely not the word to use. He gently pulls his hands from your hair, but you make no move to separate, so he settles them on your waist instead.

"You're wounded," he says, tipping his head in the direction of your shoulder. The bleeding has slowed, but not stopped. "Let me take you somewhere to get that wrapped."

"Take me where?" You ask. "Not back to the laboratory?"

"No." He doesn't know what lab you're talking about, but he knows he would never willingly put you back in Luthor's hands. "A cave. It has a medical ward where you can have that cut stitched closed."

You seem to give it some thought, idly playing with the hair at the nape of Damian's neck. It takes so much more effort than he anticipates not to melt into it. Your bare skin against his almost burns. You're exceptionally warm, near-feverish.

"Yes," you eventually agree. "You are..." You tilt your head as you search for the right words to use. "Trustworthy. I will go with you there."

Damian relaxes. He presses a finger to his comm.

"Red Robin, send the Batmobile to my location for extraction. I'm bringing the metahuman to the Batcave."

[prcttyfairies]

mississippi delta, elias 'stack' moore & elijah 'smoke' moore

pairing: elias 'stack' moore x cicely 'angel' james x elijah 'smoke' moore

content: cicely james mother gets the courage to leave her father and heads back to the mississippi delta, where her brother and the twins wait on their arrival at the train station.

warnings: mention of child abuse, mention of human trafficking, strong language, racial slurs.

an: so i did end up seeing the movie again. the movie theatre by my house sells tickets for $5 on tuesdays so i went again. and i wanted to alter the story a little bit, but i want you guys to decide which one i should stick to. my first one or this one. i'm gonna put a poll out so you guys can decide.

Mississippi Delta, 1921

Cicely James was born in Clarksdale, Mississippi, spending six years of her life in the Delta before her parents made their choice to claim the land her Daddy, Otis James had back in Georgia. He had used his skills of farming, taking care of animals, selling crops to the best of his abilities, to care for his family. Yet, when the time came, and it had, his drunken habits often haunted Cicely at night. However, an innocent mind like her own always managed to forgive when morning came and his apologies filled the room for his foul behavior.

But for Clayton James, he wasn’t that easily persuaded. His Daddy left bruises on him, his mama, his sisters, the time came when he just couldn’t suffer no more. It all couldn’t be forgotten no matter how much he tried for the sake of them. And he had made his decision, and he had begged and pleaded his mama to make a decision not only for herself but his sisters. Seraphine James was close to it. But she couldn’t leave her husband. That loved disguised as fear being too strong for her to make a bold move like that sending her boy on his way.

It seemed as years passed, all she needed was a strong push.

Cicely hadn’t known what was happening. She woke up, scared out of her sleep with new bruises over her body from the night prior. She thought it was Otis coming back to lay on more punishment, but instead it was her Mama, Seraphine’s' voice shaken, as she whispered slowly for Cicely to rise with haste. She had done the same to Lily-Mae, the youngest of the three children the women had birthed.

With keys taken from her father’s coat jacket, her mother put as much as they could carry in the motor, just to drive away from home and not look back. Lily-Mae found herself resting whilst Cicely couldn’t allow sleep to take over her until she got answers from her mother. The truth.

And the truth was what Seraphine reluctantly gave her; “He was gon’ sell you girl,” words that Cicely never thought she’d hear, “A man willin’ to pay a lot of money to have you as his housewife, I couldn’t allow that.” She shakes her head as her emotions take over, jaw clenching, with tears glossing over her rage filled eyes, “Not my baby, not my Cicely.”

The rest of the drive to the station was quiet. Cicely holding her mama’s hand through her tears until they stopped. When they arrived, Seraphine did the smart thing, selling the motor for some money to buy their tickets and get them to where they needed to go. Back to Seraphine’s home where she was raised and never should’ve left. The Mississippi Delta.

Cicely was curious about what their plan was. What were they going to do? Who were they going to stay with? As far as she could remember they didn’t have much when they left so she didn’t think they’d have anything upon their return, twelve years later.

On the train Lily-Mae could barely even rest. Seraphine scolded her youngest to stay seated and do as she was told afraid she would disturb the folk around them. Even made the mistake of almost falling on a woman, a white woman at that.

Cicely eyes had widened, moving to grab her sister's arm, “I-I’m so sorry, Ma’am, she should’ve been watching what she was doing.” She was quick to apologize for her sister's mistakes keeping the ten year old at her side.

Instantly the women shook her head, couldn’t had been any younger then Cicely, brunette hair pinned into a bob with a beauty mark on her right cheek, “Don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’, kids her age gotta find a way to let out that energy of theirs,” she smiled kindly, reaching over as she brushed a strand of Lily-Mae’s curly hair out of her face. Cicely was surprised by her kindness but it was appreciated, “Might I ask what y’all names are, you do look quite familia’”

Cicely hesitated for a moment before she answered, “My name is Cicely James ma’am, and this here is my younger sister, Lily-Mae.” She introduced them.

The woman's eyes widened, her smile expending a length of joy as a small gasp escaped her lips, “Cicely James?!” the spoke of girl brows furrowed in confusion at how she spoke her name as if it was a reminder, “Well I’ll be, it’s me! Mary Boone.”

At the name being spoken aloud, Cicely allowed it to click in her head, “Mary?!” she sounded just as surprised as the women in front of her. She was grown just as she was, letting it sink in that the last time she had seen her she was six years old, but thinking now the resemblance she was ashamed that she couldn’t see it before, “My god, I didn’t even recognize you,” Mary had stood from her seat on the train pulling Cicely into a warm embrace taking her by surprise, even having Lily looking between them in astonishment.

“Well, don’t you worry about it now you know who I am and we can sit and catch up,” Mary says through small laughter in joy. When she pulled back she looked down at Lily-Mae, “And you I hope I have the pleasure of get to knowin’”

Cicely placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Lily-Mae was born some time after we moved to Georgia,” she explained, Lily only ever growing up around the folk in Georgia having no memory of those in Delta, only the stories that she was told, “Mary, we used to be good friends with before we moved to Georgia,” Cicely informed her sister

Lily still frowned slightly up at Mary, “but she a white woman,” Cicely’s eyes widened at her sister's words causing her to nudge her, and Mary laughed.

She nodded her head, “Yes, but when you are young and raised by some open minds, you seem to forget the differences that others manage to always pay attention to.” Mary sent Cicely a smile, and she returned, “So, what y’all doin’ back in Delta, where’s ya mama?”

Cicely gestured towards the back of the train, “Back there restin’ her eyes." she gestured back with her head, "I guess she missed Mississippi too much, and Clay.” At the mention of her brother's name Mary seemed to perk up.

"Yo brotha," Mary smiled in a way that could say she was smitten. Clayton always seemed to have that effect on the lady's, even the pale skinned ones, "He been hangin' around the boys, got people calling him Ace," Cicely's brows furrowed at that, "You remember the boys, right? Elijah and Elias Moore?"

Cicely's eyes widened, "The twins?" Mary nodded in confirmation. Cicely remembered them, her brother inseparable from them. She could only guess it's from him being the only boy, "I'm surprised they still in the Delta. Always dreamin' about making it big. At least for eleven year old minds." she recalled as far as her memories would take her. She was only six when they left but she still remembered them and their ways.

"Oh, they're still here alright," Mary replies in a tone that leaves Cicely curious at what they've been up to, "They go by Smoke and Stack now. People in Delta fear them just like they fear Clay."

Cicely was shocked by this information. She hadn't seen her brother in six years, but she never thought he turn into someone they feared. He often was a sweetheart, always wanting to take care of those around him in the best way he could.

Granted, their fathers violence against them had in all likelihood had a party in his change along with his part in the war that left men becoming their worst selves. Cicely knew that at some point her memories of the night of pain and cries were going to weigh her down eventually with the constant reminder of what she and her family had gone through managing to creep up on her. She didn't want it to, trying to stay reflecting on the good recollections that hadn't been completely out weighed by the bad. But it was getting there.

"My brotha?" She asked, trying to make for certain that she was referring to Clay and not some other Clayton.

Mary once again nodded, "Yep, Ace, and the Smoke-Stack twins." she voiced their title with a bit of a bitterness behind it as she glanced down at her kitten heels.

Cicely wasn't one to pry, especially into business that didn't involve her. But she seemed to understand now that there was some unresolved tension with someone among the trio with Mary.

She seemed to have shaked herself out of whatever path her mind was taking her down, looking back up at Cicely and smiling, "So are y'all just visiting? Where's ya daddy?" Mary found herself curious having not seen the man resting beside his wife.

At the question Cicely felt herself shift in discomfort for the reminder of their return. Mary noticed that. She also seemed to finally pay some close attention to Cicely's features, having allowed her to see the girl again, completely blind herself to what was right in front of her. The bruise on her face, it appearing over her deep-golden brown skin, her tight curls surrounding her face nearly helped distract her from the clear evidence of abuse.

Mary didn't want to ask further, she didn't want to trigger anything for the girl that she wasn't already thinking about, "Well, no matter what, y'all gotta come an' visit mama. All she ever talks about is how she missed y'all and wished she didn't have to see y'all go."

Cicely found herself nodding her head instantly, "My mama would love that, familia faces is what she could do for right now," she touched her sister's hair who oddly stood still whilst they conversed.

The wheels of the train screeched against the tracks, the convoy coming to a step letting everyone who needed to get off know that they were at their destination. Cicely gave Mary a smile, excusing herself grabbing a hold of Lily-Mae's hand as she walked in the direction her mother was in, not too far. Cicely crouched down, shaking her mother slightly, waking the women up letting her know they arrived at the station.

Meanwhile, outside Clayton James stood, the twins on either side of him as he waited for his sisters and his mother. A week ago he had received a letter from Seraphine. One that he had been shocked to be receiving. Guilt had ate at him since the day he left, regretful of leaving his family with a man he wished never had call his Father. God only knows what more that man put them through since he'd been gone, and he didn't want scenarios in his head making him feel worse about his decisions.

His mother had told him to meet them at the station. They needed somewhere to stay and he got it. He made sure to be prepared for them, knowing that this was their moment of escape and some peace and safety. He wasn't going to mess that up.

He paced back and forth in nervousness believing his movement would be subtle, however, the twins looked at him as if he had three heads. It was Stack who had stopped him, grabbing his arm bringing his movement to a halt.

"Relax, muthafucka, you makin' me sick," his accent thick when he spoke, toothpick in his mouth, gold crown that aligned the edge of his teeth visible. He had pulled Clay back into his spot in between them.

Clay searched, eyes moving over all the faces hoping to see the familiar ones, "Y'all see 'em?" he asked the twins, getting skeptical if they actually ever got on the train.

"We ain't seen Mrs. Seraphine and ya sista in twelve years, Ace, what makes you think we gon' recognize they faces?" Smoke retorted with his usual stone expression, it rarely ever cracked.

"And what if he got 'em? What if they ain't get on the train?" Clay found himself thinking the worst, bodies coming off and boarding the train and still, no one came into view.

Stack placed an assuring hand on Clay's shoulder, "Then we'd go to Georgia and get 'em back. It's time yo daddy know what it's like to get a beatin'" he declared ready for anything.

Smoke and Stack didn't take well to finding out that Clay along with his sisters and his mother had been getting abused. When he arrived back in Delta, they asked him why he didn't take them with him. "Can't force 'em to walk away. My mom too muthafuckin' loyal to leave, and Cicely and Lily-Mae wasn't leavin' her.'' It was just a truth they couldn't bother to be angry at. It took five years for Seraphine to come to her senses, Clay just wanted to know what it took to finally lead her there.

He continued to search, dark eyes fighting through the bodies just for them to land on them. Clay sees Lily-Mae first, the girl having grown a bit since he last saw her. He could tell it had been a while since his mama had cut her hair, it had stopped at her mid-back, long and curly. She wore a green dress stopping just a little ways below her knees and black flats that were covered in dirt no doubt from her running around chasing the goats like he remembered her always doing.

His mama was next, holding Lily's hand whilst holding a bag in her other one. As she looked around like he had just been not long before, from he could make out her facial features she seemed exhausted, the bags under eyes being a dead give away. She wore a grey beret that she no doubt made herself when she had the time, hair binned into a small bun. A blue dress she wore, with a white collar that came together in the middle forming a loose knot at the center of her chest. There was no doubt that his sisters always had clothes, with their mama being a seamstress and all, she always made them something nice to wear, even if it was just for around the house.

Whilst he looked at her frozen, trying to control his emotions as best as he could but knowing he was going to fail, the older woman's eyes had finally found him. Seraphine smiled in relief in her son's direction before she bent down, whispering something in Lily-Mae's ear and pointing in his direction.

She followed her mothers finger, scanning over the area quickly before she found him. Lily-Mae instantly smiled, face lighting up with a joy that he always missed seeing on her face before she began to run towards him, "Clay! Clay!" she shouted his name at the top of her lungs, grabbing the attention from nearly everyone as she dodged bodies on her way to him.

Clay laughed, opening his arms wide allowing the girl to run right into his middle, arms wrapping around his waist in a strong embrace. He hummed in happiness this squeeze mending the ache in his chest just a little bit more, "Well I'll be damn, look how big you got!" he pulled her back to look her over. He pushed her hair out of her face, "Mama let you leave the house like this----lookin' like a wild child."

Lily-Mae smiled up at him, "Mama says I am a wild child. Everyday she can't go without tellin' me that she would've pray to god for a boy if she wanted one." she speaks, winded from her run over to him.

"I guess we can call you her karma, huh?" Clay speaks as he looks her over, dropping to her knew where she had a bandage around it, "And let me guess..." he pointed towards the securely wrapped wound, "Chancin' dim damn chicken's, wasn't ya?" It wasn't a constant thing she had done when she was old enough to start walking.

She laughed in agreement, "Cicely always said it may scare the eggs out of hens," Lily-Mae brushed her hair out of her face as she finally took notice of the two men, with the same features, just didn't color accessories; blue and red. When she took notice of the blade slightly peakin' out her eyes widened, "Wow! Look at that!" she moved to touch it, Clay grabbing her hand.

Stack chuckled at her amazement of blade, "Girl, you can't just be goin' around touchin' a man's blade like that," Clay slightly scolded his sister.

"Don't worry 'bout it, mane," Stack assured him, taking the blade out with a brass knuckle ring for the handle, "This blade right here, ain't for a lady."

Lily-Mae scoffed at his words, "Good thang, I'm far from a fuckin' lady," she cursed taking Clay by surprise, and causing Stack to cackle loudly at her boldness. It even made Smoke's mouth twitch with a smile.

Clay was about to say something to her about her mouth just for another voice to beat him to it, "Lily-Mae James, you watch that mouth of yours or you'll be goin' over ma knee," Seraphine's sternness had caused the gentlemen's eyes to come up and look at the women.

Lily murmured a "Sorry, mama," before she found her eyes going up to Stack who playfully stuck his tongue at her, in which the young ten year old glared at him.

Seraphine then smiled up at her boy. He looked like a man, dressed like a man, but he was still her boy in her eyes. Her first born that she missed everyday since she watched him walk away, with no urge to stop him and attempt to get him to stay.

When he had told her he was leaving, she left him with nothing but this, "One of us gotta make it out, I'm just happy it's not in a box." he cried on her shoulder that night and when the sun rose he was gone and then it was Seraphine's turn to weep, tears of both loss and joy.

Tears had already begun to brim her eyes, as she reached over, adjusting his suit jacket, fine and tailored brushing over any lint. Her hands then found their way up to his face taking in his features that had changed since she had last seen him. He had matured in a way she wasn't expecting, but appreciated. To see him standing here in front of her instead of him dead somewhere in the trenches.

"Look at my boy," her voice cracked, tears falling as she pulled Clay into strong embrace leaving him to do the reciprocate. His own emotions couldn't contain, feeling the burn he felt like hadn't felt in a long time, followed by a wetness sliding down to the tip of his nose.

They stood right there for a moment, Lily-Mae standing once again going to reach for Stack's blade just for him to distract herself from the sentimental moment just for him to quickly grab her hand. She gave him a challenging brow, before going in with her other hand just for him to do the same. Lily laughed, finding it funny to mess with the man who was basically a stranger to her, however, the way he stood at her brothers side, Clay must've trusted him.

Smoke stood there, silently, looking around not paying them any mind. As always he was on high alert, eye searching around as if he was looking for some form of threat to come their way. Maybe Otis James made the dumb decision to follow them and was lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

He didn't see anyone approaching that appeared threatening. Instead his eyes fell to a woman who cared bags in her hand, her hair blowing in the soft breeze causing him to take notice of her features. Specifically the bruises. She held the same similar features of Clay, hair like the young one toying with his other half. She wore a white dress that stopped before her ankles purple flowers decorating it, the clothing tight around her rib cage whilst the rest of the dress fell loose.

A beautiful women she was. Eyes holding an innocence that he hadn't seen in most women in Delta. She almost looked like an angel, pure and untainted. But if she was who he thought she was, she had been through things. Similar to what he had been through and just like him, it must've haunted her.

"God, you look like a man," Seraphine had pulled away from her son's embraced, exhale heavily as she wiped her face and went up to wipe Clay's.

He laughed gently, "Because I am a man, mama," he retorts, adjusting his jacket.

Seraphine hit on his chest gently, "Stop trying to impress yo lil friends boy," she gestured to the twins, "And who might boys be?" she asked, sniffling from her tears as her eyes fell on between both of them.

"Mama, it's Elias and Elijah Moore," Clay informed his mother, setting her down memory lane as her eyes widened, eyes snapping between the two of them.

Lily-Mae had stopped her toying around with Stack as the man shifted his attention to the women he had remembered from when he was younger. Smoke hesitantly moved his eyes to Seraphine as well, a little afraid that if he took his eyes off the women that stood not that far from them she'd disappear into thin air.

"My god, you Bethanne's boys, aren't ya?" Seraphine inquired but she could see it now. In their eyes, they had them. She could see the women that was once her best friend before she passed away.

"Yes, Ma'am," Stack found himself confirming for her.

Seraphine laughed taking a step back to observe them, "I guess y'all really ain't boys no mo'," she looked over all of them, "Cicely, come look at 'em!"

Clay had snapped his gaze behind his mom at his sister who stood there with their luggage at her feet. She wasn't liked Lily. She didn't run to him displaying her joy of reuniting with him. Instead she looked more of angry. He could understand that. He had left without saying goodbye. Lily was too young at the time, and whatever mama had told her was easier to persuade her then it was for Cicely.

But instead of timidly acknowledging her as if she was ticking time bomb prepared to go off, he started off with his usual batter, "So ya just gonna stand there like a brat, or ya gonna come give ya big brotha a hug?" he opened his arms before they fell back at his side.

"I'm just fine where I'm at."

Seraphine looked at her daughter taken aback at how she was acting, "Cicely James! You get over here and hug ya brotha," she demanded her, but she didn't move from her spot, "You can't just ignore him."

Cicely rolled her eyes, "Oh please, ma, it ain't like it's nothin' he ain't done befo'" she retaliates. Clay tried to laugh through her words, acting as if it didn't sting to see her treating him like that. He couldn't be upset, he deserved it.

He scratched at his nose, taking a step forward, "You ain't gon' make me chase you, is you Cicely James?"

Her eyes narrowed, "You ain't got the balls, not in front of all these people," she gestured around, "We don't want no one in Delta thinkin' they Ace has gone soft, now do we?" Stack laughed. He was amused, entertained by this girl, this woman, Cicely James. A face of an Angel, but with a smart mouth.

"How you hear dat name, Cicely?" Clay asked his sister, knowing that news like that wouldn't have travelled all the way to Georgia.

Cicely rolled her eyes, not answering. But Lily-Mae had one, “Some white lady on the train, said she knew you and that you roamed around like’uh gangsta with the Smoke-Stack twins,” the youngest one amongst them glanced between two men opposite her brother, “You must be them.”

Clay thought about it for a while before he laughed rubbing his head, “Mary-fuckin’-Boone,” his history with the girl creeping up on him. It was a fucked up situation that he wished he could forget and have the urge to go back and think twice before getting involved with her, but he couldn’t. And his decision to keep his distance from her upset her to no extent, “You think I care ‘bout what they think?” He questioned her, she didn’t answer, “Nah, I’m just glad that y’all home, so…” he trailed off, approaching her causing Cicely to take a step back every time he took a step forward, “Cicely, girl!" his legs being longer then her own with long strides, she could barely get more then four steps in before his arms wrapped around her frame.

She released a squeal, "Let me go, Clayton!" Cicely tried to free her arms, kicking her legs as he lifted her up, "Put me down goddamit!" feeling a bit of pain as he lifted her, but tried to suppress it.

"Not until you forgive me, girl," Clay huffed, holding her close to his side. His hat had fallen off his head, Lily-Mae having picked it up, dusting it off. She let out a breathless, humorless laugh shaking her head, "What you want me to say, huh? That I messed up? That I'm a coward fo' leavin' y'all behind?" Cicely shoved at him again to get him to let go over her but he didn't budge, "I thought about y'all every day, ya hear? I wished I ain't had left y'all behind, but I can't change what I did. All I can do is make up for it," he paused for second, a pregnant pause fill the air between the, "Let me make up for it."

Cicely took calming breaths as she thought about his words. When she woke up to find out he left, she cried. She had cried for days wondering why he had left. Specifically why he hadn't taken her with him. She was heartbroken. Her brother was always there, defending her to the best his abilities would take him. And when he left, she thought he given up on them. And the fact that he hadn't visited, not even a letter, broke her heart even more. That sadness over the years had turned into anger, betrayal at his choice.

And now here he was, holding onto her for dear life asking for her forgiveness. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she missed him. Cicely couldn't say their relationship was going to be like it was before he left, but he could come back to it. At some point in time.

"Fine."

Clay smiled, slowly unraveling his arms from around her, allowing Cicely to stand up straight. He then opened them wide the proper way, to which she reluctantly gave in engulfing him in a hug. Clay felt another wave of tears about to hit him and he fought to them back, them rimming the underlid of his eyes.

Cicely pressed the unharmed side of her face into his chest, taking this in for herself, having her brother back. She could feel the wetness of her tears slide down the side of her face. Being the first pull away, she sniffled and wiped her tears away with her palm.

He looked down at her. His 6'3 frame towering over her 5'3 body. He laid his hand on her shoulder causing her to look up at him. Clay's jaw clenched at seeing her face. Fighting his words to ask how long ago she was given them. Instead he just pulled her into his side and turned to face his mother, sister, and the twins.

"Y'all so dramatic," Lily-Mae retorts, causing her older sister to glare at her.

Stack's eyes focused on Cicely who moved to grab the bags, "Woah, Woah," he instantly step forward, taking ahold of the bags before she could, "I got that for ya, Angel." she looked at him a little surprised.

Cicely shook her head, "No, it's okay, I can carry 'em," she protested hand moving out to grab their belongs.

"Don't you worry 'bout it," He assured her, "We wouldn't be gentleman if we let y'all ladies carry y'all luggage," Stack gestured his head to the bag that Seraphine held, looking at his brother.

Smoke adjusted his coat jacket, taking the bag from Seraphine, "We got the car all ready fo' y'all."

"We takin' a motor?!" Lily practically yelled, practically bounding on her toes from the excitement.

In the small motor car, Cicely sat up front, smooshed into between the two Smoke-Stack twins. Her mom and sister sat behind her, Lily-Mae in Clay’s lap since the back seats were so confined. On the journey to wherever they were taking them, Cicely fought it as hard as she could, but her eyes continued to drop. The exhaustion weighed in on her having barely slept a few hours on the train, the rest of time her rest she neglected for her own selfish reasons. Her mom needed the sleep and she couldn’t have Lily-Mae up bothering folks.

Without her holding back much longer she allowed her eyes to close, attempting up hold her head but the deeper she got in her sleep, the less she was able to fight it. Her head fell onto Smoke's shoulder, taking the man by surprise. He glanced down at her, moving the toothpick around his mouth as he observed her features now at peace while she rested. He shifted his gaze back to the road.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that, she ain’t sleep much on the train.” Seraphine apologized to the man that she had known since he was nothing but a baby.

Instantly Smoke brushed it off, “That’s just alright Mrs. James, she must've been exhausted.” It being the first time they had actually heard him speak since they had gotten off the train.

Clay bit at his thumb, a question eating up at him that he didn’t want to ask Cicely, not wanting to ruin a moment special, “When she get those bruises, mama?” He questioned out loud, just wanting to know how recently his daddy had put his hands on Cicely. He had done it to her most, for reasons only he and his mama knew of and for Cicely's sake they mama had kept it a secret from the girl with the fear that she’d grow to hate her too.

Seraphine sent her son a side glance before she released a heavy breath, “The night we left.” she answered with a pain in her tone, “Tended to her wounds, let her rest up for a bit. Bastard passed out on the couch so I took that chance to start packin’ our bags.” she had never moved so fast in her life, and as quiet as she possibly could.

“And that last hit finally gave you the strength to leave 'em, huh?”

The women was too afraid to admit, to under the words that she knew were true. That it wasn’t the hit that broke the camels back, “Sadly, no. It wasn’t that.” The information that she had discovered had finally trigger the fight or flight mode in her head , “He was gon’ sell her,” Clay snapped his head in his mama's direction, face contorted in a rage that she had never seen her son have. Granted it had been five years since has last seen him but no memories of him holding this murderous expression she seen in this moment, could she find in her brain, "A man wanted her for a housewife, to raise his kids since his wife died, Otis was gon' go through with it."

Smoke and Stack sent one another a side glance. They hadn't seen Cicely James in years. They didn't have to for the gears in their head to turn and just like Clay, they felt a murderous rage at the fact that Otis James was going to sell his daughter.

The eldest james child released a humorless chuckle, Lily-Mae too young to understand the situation, glancing in between the two adults, "And let me guess, the muthafucka still breathin'?" he didn't need his mama to answer for him to know the truth. He could only shake his head, the flame of anger in him only burning brighter, "You seem to fo'get, mama? That man know you like the back of his hand, so how long you thankin' it's gon' take for him to track y'all back to Delta?"

It wasn't going to be long, Seraphine knew that much. And the thought had sat with her the entire train ride back to her home. She couldn't even embraced the familiarity of it all, her thoughts clouding her mind as she did ask herself the question that her son had voiced out loud.

"What makes you think I'd have the strength to kill him?"

Clay scoffed, "Out of all the years he been slowly killin' y'all, I don't know how it wasn't already there," a pregnant paused filled the air, hearing nothing but the wind caused by the accelerating speed, blowing past their ears, "All I know is one thing, mama," he began, looking at the women once more, "He come knockin' at my door, imma shoot him where he stands." he declared allowed with not a waver in his tone.

Seraphine closed her eyes at her sons threat, his promise. She took a break as she questioned, "You'd kill yo daddy?" her eyes fluttered open as she directed her gaze to Clay. He was already looking at her.

His green eyes that he had gotten from her father stared right back at her. No emotions present on his face, with no hesitance he responded, "No, mama, I'd kill a man," he shifted his attention, back to the cotton fields that they passed as he added, "He stopped bein' my daddy a long time ago."

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 17 :

Danny was very displeased, displeased at the fact that he had to be a quarter vampire.

Let him explain, Danny had been visiting Vlad for his annual Therapy session, Dan had told the boy that Vlad has been acting strange and isolating himself in his bedroom.

Danny speculated that maybe the man is... Doing evil things again to mess with Danny and so just as any other sane person would, He visited the man. He stepped into a dark and cold room, "Frootloop...?", he called out as he kept the door open Infront of him.

Without even giving the boy a second to process the darkness, Plasmius pounced on him and had dug his sharp teeth and fangs on his arm, Danny took only a few moments and threw Plasmius to the side, his eyes were glowing red.

Danny was cursing as Plasmius's Hair 'Horns' were actual horns now and he looked... Hungry.

Danny would not like to delve more into those new trauma memories but short to say but Plasmius had a more animalistic side to him due to his vampire shtick and it turns out he knows when it happens but simply forgot to tell Danny or Anyone about this situation.

Danny went home after having been bandaged by Dani, He felt weird ever since that day and for the past few days the sun had felt more hotter for him that he ended up using sunscreen often, he found Ectoplasm more... Delicious as well and when he happened to get injured and licked the blood off his arm due to something urging him, he slowly pieced everything together.

Danny started showcasing more vampiric features, his eyes had a red tint, his ears were pointier and his fangs sharper, slowly he's had more of an attraction to blood and Ectoplasm, being able to find or smell blood from afar.

Danny at some point tells jazz and she ofcourse accepts him wholeheartedly and protects him as much as she could, even going as far as intimidating the A-Listers enough that they'd leave Danny alone.

It... It didn't prove good for him though, The Sensors clocked him more as a ghost. It made Maddie and Jack extremely suspicious.

One morning Tucker and Sam had called him something about Maddie and Jack finding out, Danny was then caught especially at a time where Jazz was out of town.

We all know what happens in Bad Parents Maddie and Jack, They have him strapped to a table.

Jazz went home 3 days later and after finding out about what happened to Danny, she ran to the closest person she could get help from. Vlad.

The DC part ;

Danny had ran away with Jazz, Dan and Dani to Gotham, Apparently Vlad had bought them a Manor and Since Dan was the oldest he was the one who managed all the money and he was good at it.

Danny still had difficulty controlling the hunger, the Half Ghost Thing now along with having vampire stuff on him and still somehow being half human was the only thing keeping him sane and feel like he's in control of his body.

These instincts from 3 different species in one body fused to one causing him to get more confused and erratic with his behaviors, Dan resorts to taking Danny out at night and letting him ravage and feed on Criminals which Dan had specifically picked.

Meanwhilst the bats have been notified of Child and Human traffickers or anything of the same level crime that they don't feel bad about have been found dead with bite marks on their necks and their bodies drained of blood, It confused them ofcourse but no innocent bystanders or civilians was ever turned into a victim of this unknown assailant.

The public had nicknamed the supposed "Vampire Meta" As Apparition (Because Dracula was too cliché), One faithful night, a witness happens to see this strange person feed on a criminal.

A black haired teenage boy had their teeth sunken in the big man's neck, their eyes a red tint but it's obvious they were blue, said civilian immediately told the police which gave the bats a lead.

Witnesses starts to see more of him, Red Robin happens to encounter the younger boy on coincidence, his clothes were bloodied but he stared at the horizon of the city. The boy looked out of thought, his eyes hazed as Red Robin approached him, Danny turned his head at Red Robin almost immediately upon hearing his footsteps.

"Hello." He greets with a fanged but soft and innocent smile that made Red Robin's heart skip a beat. Just who is this boy? And why is Tim starting to have a crush for him.

You guys can take it from here, all my thoughts were, Halfa!Vamp!Danny and Dead Tired.

[hauntingblue]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO EXECUTION DAY DECIDED NOOOOOOOOO

[holylulusworld]

Animalistic (1)

Summary: He's coming for them.

Pairing: Alpha!Kraven x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, betrayal, human trafficking, sex trafficking, angst, kidnapping, innocent reader, implied character death (unnamed thugs), grumpy Kraven

A/N: Please consider that I do not write for Kraven from the comics, but from the movie.

Animalistic Masterlist

He always liked animals better, maybe because they are easier to understand, or maybe because his father was a drug-dealing piece of shit.

Kraven doesn’t want to remember the reason. Out there in the darkness, surrounded by stillness and wild animals, he feels alive—that’s all that matters to him.

He hates coming back to the city to hunt a different kind of animal. The kind selling drugs to kids or selling innocent lives to monsters.

Years back, when he was much younger and tried to impress his father, he hunted animals. The most dangerous predators he could find.

That’s in the past. Since he almost died and was left to rot by his father somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A fading dream saved him. Her name was Calypso, and she saved him in more than one way.

He gave up his name and started a new life. Now he hunts the real monsters. The ones hiding behind money and a fake smile.

Tonight, he’s back among humans, and he couldn’t hate it more. The stink of their lies and sweat mixed with desperation makes him sick.

He plays along to get closer to his next target. A man making even a ruthless hunter like Kraven sick.

Darian Garton, self-declared ruler of New York City, human trafficker of the worst kind. He sells children, women, and whoever one of his business partners wants to the cruelest monsters ever to exist.

Three days ago, your life wasn’t too bad. You had a job, a home, and some good friends. That was until you followed your friend’s invitation to a party at someone’s house. A guy she knew from another party wanted her to bring more friends.

Oriana was your best friend since childhood. You believed you knew everything about her—just like she knew everything about you. Only half an hour after you came to the party, you realized you knew nothing about your friend.

Men crowded you and some other girls in a room. You knew right away that something was off. These men didn’t try to flirt or ask you out. No—they looked at you and the other women as if you were on the menu.

While the other girls chatted with some of the guys, you tried to sneak out and leave before things could turn to the worst.

You grabbed Oriana and guided her into the bathroom, telling her this party was fishy. Your chance to sneak out of the bathroom window was taken from you when Oriana grabbed the back of your neck to slam your face into the tile wall, knocking you out.

Kraven follows his target like a predator hunts its prey. His sight is heightened, just like his other senses. He’s the ultimate apex predator in human form. Made to capture his prey.

Darian Garton feels safe enough to walk around town with only one bodyguard. He believes no one will dare to attack him.

“Tonight, Garton,” Kraven snarls as he hides in the dark. Garton walks toward an old warehouse on the outskirts of New York. Only a few people know this place exists. “I’ll get you.”

You shiver from the cold creeping into your bones. It’s been three days since your best friend betrayed you in the worst way possible. She lured you and the other women in, offering a good time.

“You’re lucky,” one of your captors says. “The others, they are replaceable. You are not.” He laughs when you grit your teeth. “An unbonded and untouched omega is the jackpot my boss has been waiting for.”

“Get fucked,” you grunt and look away from him. You cannot show him that you are scared to the bone. You heard some of the other women scream and beg, leaving nothing to your imagination.

Something horrid must’ve happened to them, but you don’t want to think about it. Rumors spread through the grapevine. You heard about missing women. Kidnapping is real, and so is sex trafficking.

You had hoped that you imagined things and that your friend didn’t sell you to these monsters. Sadly, only one person knows that you are an unbonded and untouched omega. Oriana—the monster waiting in the shadows to take away your life.

“You know, Oriana is one of our best,” the man laughs as you snap your head toward him, hearing your friend’s name. “She came to us on free terms, offering her help. Ori was done living off scraps. She wants the big money, and big money she’ll get for selling you.”

“I hope you know there’s a special place in hell for the likes of you,” you growl, eyes glowing as you sense another alpha enter the room. “All of you will suffer.”

“Hey, did you bring the fo—” the man speaking to you seconds ago choked on his words. He steps back, and you wonder what scared him. You scramble to your feet, stepping closer to the bars parting you from the man.

It’s pitch-black, but you can see the man drop to the ground. “Omega,” a deep voice says. He sniffs in your direction before pushing the key into the lock. “Get out. Come with me.”

You hesitate to get out and step back. However, the alpha doesn’t care. He steps inside your cell and harshly grabs your arm. “If you don’t want them to sell you, come with me. The others are already lost, but I can bring you out of here.”

“No…not without the others!” You cry. “Please! I—I heard where they are going. Please…”

The man drags you out of the room, ignoring that you gasp loudly. The men who kidnapped you lie dead on the ground. It looks like someone slaughtered them using a knife and rage.

“I already lost track of Darian Garton to save you. I won’t waste more time!” He growls, but stops when you start to cry. He sighs deeply. “Fine. I’ll bring you somewhere safe, and you will tell me everything you know.”

“We need to find Oriana,” you murmur and avert your gaze. “She was my friend and the one trapping me. If anyone knows more about that man’s business, it’s her. And I can tell you what I heard.”

Kraven looks at you, brows knitted together. “If you lie to me, I’ll leave you behind.”

“Fair enough,” you reply. “I have no reason to lie…”

Part 2

[astrobiscuits]

Chiron persona chart obs

WARNING: BRIEF MENTIONS OF ED, S*ICIDE, S*XUAL AB*SE. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND NOT TO READ THIS POST IF YOU'RE VERY SENSITIVE thank you

Stelliums show us where our main trauma or wound lies:

Stellium in Aries/1st house - body image issues/body dysmorphia, hating ones face and wanting to change it at all cost, being so focused on ones trauma that it results in excessive independence

Stellium in Taurus/2nd house - self worth issues, hating ones voice and/or being made fun of for how ones voice sounds, excessive shopping due to fear of having nothing, having stash of cash hidden everywhere in the house due to being scared of getting robbed

Stellium in Gemini/3rd house - being too scared to speak to others, hating the way you express yourself, being an overachiever at school due to fear of being seen as "stupid", fear of being run over by a bicycle or a car

Stellium in Cancer/4rd house - family problems (divorced parents, one of the parents is out of the picture for whatever reason, family members dealing with addictions, family abuse), issues when it comes to comforting yourself in times of crisis, HEAVY abandonment issues

Stellium in Leo/5th house - had to grow up too fast instead of enjoying childhood, fear of not being "the perfect parent", fear of not making it in the industry (for those pursing creative careers or following their passions), issues regarding getting pregnant and delivering a child, fear of being burned by the sun or by fire

Stellium in Virog/6th house - fear of contacting an incurable disease, issues regarding eating disorders, trauma regarding messy spaces, which results in OCD

Stellium in Libra/7th house - issues caused by getting cheated in a relationship, fear of trusting someone in a one-on-one connection, trauma resulted from business affairs which have gone wrong

Stellium in Scoprio/8th house - fear of death, issues caused by sexual trauma/sexual abuse, grooming, stalking, human trafficking, mysterious disappearances, divorce, taxes, loans

Stellium in Sagittarius/9th house - fear of not being able to experience everything one has always wanted, issues caused by not living to ones full potential, fear of travelling too far away, religious trauma

Stellium in Capricorn/10th house - fear of being forgotten and not standing out, issues regarding not looking & acting in a professional manner when needed, fear of not being promoted in ones career, the trauma is very visible to the public

Stellium in Aquarius/11th house - fear of not fitting in a crowd or a friend group, issues regarding being part of LGBTQ+ or a subculture often dismissed (POC, people with disabilities, orphanage kids, emos), trauma related to the country's government and (possible) implications in war, fear of dying in a natural disaster (earthquake, tsunami, volcano), fear of dying by electrocution or in an airplane crash

Stellium in Pisces/12th house - fear of being admitted to a prison, asylum or nursing home, having frequent thoughts of unaliving onself, fear of drowning, fear of what happens after death, fear of being misunderstood or made fun of for hearing voices and seeing things which aren't real

Moon shows us how we process our trauma and wounds:

Moon in Aries/1st house : screams, throws things around (maybe also breaks a few things), if anyone reminds them of their wounds/traumas, they'd literally break that person's neck; they might recklessly drive, play with fire or drink excessively out of anger

Moon in Taurus/2nd house : resorts to retail therapy, cooks their favourite meals, gets some comfy pillow and blankets and watches their favourite show; they're slow to heal their wounds, but they manage to do so

Moon in Gemini/3rd house : overanalyzes what happened to the point that they've thought of every scenario possible, (if they have more than one wound/trauma) switches between wounds, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with siblings and acquaintances

Moon in Cancer/4th house : cries 24/7, acts distant with people who are not close to them and defensive with those who want to talk about their feelings; they tend to have very, very unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka they resort to self-harm)

Moon in Leo/5th house : transforms their pain & wounds into a form of art - whether it's through dancing, painting, singing, acting, photography, videography; sometimes they might not recognize how much their past affects them, especially around others, they boast about how "it wasn't that bad" even though they're clearly affected by what happened

Moon in Virgo/6th house : focuses on the details, what they could have done better and what they didn't, easily becomes anxious, cleaning the house becomes a form of therapy for them; in case of physical wounds, they document themselves very well (sometimes they are even able to heal themselves, since this Moon sign in Chiron persona chart has a sort of 6th sense about medicinal procedures)

Moon in Libra/7th house : their s/o knows every pain, wound and traumas they've ever experienced, analyzes the past in a logical manner and tries to find a healthy coping mechanism, without hurting anyone else in the process; listens to sad, romantic songs

Moon in Scorpio/8th house : if someone else is guilty for their wounds/traumas, they're going to plot revenge and execute their plan in a discreet manner; often jealous, they might pursue fwb connections to stop thinking about their pain; the ones who manage to deal with their past in a healthy manner become a completely different person in the process

Moon in Sagittarius/9th house : dealing with their wounds/traumas opens a new world for them, they end up adopting a new set of beliefs as a coping mechanism, travelling to another country to get some space from their surroundings helps them heal

Moon in Capricorn/10th house : replays the past over and over again, they numb their emotions, if asked about their wounds/traumas, they answer very stoic; they also tend to be more realistic and don't like to tell themselves lies or hear lies about their trauma

Moon in Aquarius/11th house : resorts to technology to cope with the pain, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with their friends or on social media, but not with family; they might try some unusual coping mechanisms

Moon in Pisces/12th house : they isolate themselves from everyone in order to cope with the pain, meditation and breathing techniques are their to-go methods of calming their anxiety down; if they don't manage to cope in a healthy way, they dissociate and go through a depersonalization process or an addiction takes over them (drinking, smoking, they overuse medication etc.)

Jupiter shows us where we're blessed, but fail to see. The stronger the modality, the more obvious it is to other people.

♃ Jupiter in fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) and/or fixed houses (2nd house, 5th house, 8th house, 11th house) are extremely blessed and everyone is able to notice, but the native.

♃ Jupiter in cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) and/or cardinal houses (1st house, 4th house, 7th house, 11th house) are blessed, but only a specific category of people notice it.

♃ Jupiter in mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) and/or mutable houses (3rd house, 6th house, 9th house, 12th house) are still blessed, but the effect is hardly noticeable to anyone.

Those with:

Grand Trine/Kite/Yod (Finger of God)

Sun, Jupiter, North Node and ruler of the chart conjuncting MC and/or placed in 10th/11th house (minimum 2 placements)

Stellium in 10th house/11th house

-> have got amazing healing abilites and often end up pursuing careers where they help & heal society (usually as doctors, therapists, spiritual advisors, social workers, advocates who actually make a difference, etc.) They usually become famous for their healing gifts.

Other small considerations:

Ascendant shows us how we are perceived at first glance when we are dealing with pain

IC shows us how we are perceived by our family (or in a safe, secluded place) when we are dealing with pain

DSC shows us how we are perceived by our partner or best friend when we are dealing with pain

MC shows us how we are perceived in public (or in our career) when we are dealing with pain

North Node shows us our salvation (where we need to focus on in order to heal)

🕊 Sun trine Moon & Sun sextile Moon individuals have an easier time healing their traumas and wounds

🕊 Sun opposite Saturn & Sun square Saturn individuals feel the need to rebel from their father/grandparents, norms that have been imposed on them, old customs & traditions, institutions/government, in order to heal themselves

[sunderwight]

Liushen AU where SY transmigrates into SJ's older brother, and subsequently nopes them right out of the slavery backstory by using his general knowledge of the story and actually being an adult in a kid's body to just leave (basically) with SJ and YQ.

SY carts them both up to Cang Qiong for the next sect trials. It's actually not all that hard, the trickiest part is getting enough to eat and finding safe places to sleep between leaving the slavers and taking the trials (SY manages just barely, with considerable help from his new little brothers.) Nobody bothers to go after them because it's before Qiu Jianluo and this style of human traffickers mostly operate by virtue of their merchandise having nowhere else to go. Chasing down runaways is an expense not worth indulging, given that most of them either come straight back or die of exposure.

Anyway, they take the trials, and as expected YQY gets chosen to become a personal disciple for the sect leader, and SJ gets chosen by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, but also as (kind of) expected (by SY alone) nobody wants SY. He's older the Yue Qi, so too old, and unlike YQ and SJ his cultivation potential isn't striking enough to make any exceptions for him.

SY, however, can't leave it at that. He's spent more than five minutes with the street kid codependency gang, so he's gotten attached to both of them. And he knows what will happen if they're left to their own devices and The Plot proceeds accordingly. (Also, they keep threatening to not stay at the sect if SY doesn't stay too, for some reason.) So with a heavy heart and internal candle lit for himself, SY heads to Bai Zhan Peak. Which is the only peak that accepts disciples by way of them turning up and refusing to leave.

SY's not much of a fighter. He actually really hates the atmosphere on BZP, he's not bad at physical cultivation (his health's pretty good in this life, ironic considering how much worse his situation was) but the random ambushes and survival-of-the-fittest stuff is just not his brand. But that's okay, because it turns out that BZP actually DESPERATELY needs disciples on the actual peak who are interested in things other than fighting and cultivating their own strength. Stuff like, filling out requisition requests for An Ding every time things break, apologizing to An Ding every time things break again, organizing schedules, browbeating senior disciples into actually teaching, educating disciples on virtually any artistic or social skill, hosting lectures on how to beat vicious beasts without just overpowering them, and etc.

Okay so some of this stuff isn't and has never actually been on Bai Zhan's curriculum but Shen Yuan is going to make this place tolerable. And stop these children from needlessly getting acid burns or lyme disease or scurvy or whatever. He keeps internally chewing out Airplane for designing a sect system that means there are a lot of largely unsupervised 12-year-olds running around the wilderness on a mountain picking fights all the time. (When he actually meets Shang Qinghua and figures him out he switches to doing it in person, of course, in twice-monthly bitching sessions that look a lot like budding friendship.)

Of course one of the worst offenders is the Liu kid, who SY would suspect was actually raised by wolves if he didn't know for a fact that Liu Qingge has a younger sister, and also the kinds of nice clothing and letters from home that strongly imply not only does he have a family, but that the family is pretty well-off. Liu Qingge is at first deeply offended by SY being a BZP disciple. He rarely fights anyone, and uses tricks and evasion tactics whenever a fight can't be avoided. And he does other annoying stuff, like pestering him about meals and baths and lecturing him on identifying dangerous plants and the early signs of qi deviation. This is not what their peak is about! He should get with the program already! Just fight stuff until you're too tired to keep fighting stuff!

Also SY's younger brother, SJ, is pure evil (at least according to baby Liu Qingge) even though his other younger brother (?) is cool and nice.

Anyway, Liu Qingge stops complaining about SY after their first mission together, where Liu Qingge doesn't lose a fight but does get into a kind of pyrrhic victory situation where he's really badly hurt, and it's SY who helps him win (correctly identifying the monster and then pointing out its weakness) and takes care of him afterwards and gets him safely back to Cang Qiong. SY expresses surprise at LQG actually being polite to him, and LQG realizes that he's been a colossal ass if people think he wouldn't be grateful to someone who saved his life, so the usual Liushen dynamic proceeds from there. Liu Qingge starts bringing SY fans he leaves behind and hunts down animals that are supposed to be useful for bolstering weak cultivation, SY invites LQG to tea and keeps the critters as pets, etc etc.

SY doesn't get the Head Disciple position, because that's only acquired via beating the current peak lord in combat and lol no. Also he's not interested in stealing it from Liu Qingge, to whom it rightfully belongs (in his mind). But that's fine, because Liu Qingge takes the position when the next generation ascends and then he lets SY exclusively handle all the peak duties SY actually likes (mainly teaching). It's perfect -- Liu Qingge gets to focus on his War God antics and occasional administration/meetings without having to deal with students his has no patience for, but the disciples of BZP don't get neglected because SY is actually teaching and organizing classes and student care. BZP hasn't enjoyed a golden age like this since it was founded!

Things are pretty good overall, but Shen Yuan knows that it's only a matter of time before The Plot shows up, and so he can't rest completely easily.

Meanwhile, the will-they-or-won't-they bets on Liushen have been going strong for a while now. The thing is, most of their martial siblings are convinced that these two are already "together", and just being circumspect about it. Those who know SY well (like SJ, YQY, and SQH) know better but think that SY's romantic obtuseness is to blame, whereas those who know LQG well (LMY, WQW, and MQF) are pretty sure that it's actually LQG's obtuseness that's the problem. Of course it's actually both of them, so efforts to "fix" matters by getting through one of their thick skulls inevitably run afoul of the other's.

An additional complication is of course: SJ doesn't like LQG (mutual), and now that he's the leader of his own peak, he wants to poach SY to come and live there. Not only so he can have one of the 2 people he trusts actually close at hand, but also because SJ also hates actually teaching the atrocious little brats on his peak, and would like to have SY come and do it for him. YQY is still a total pushover for him too, and is also now the sect leader, so YQY agrees that SY can change peaks if SY and LQG both agree to it.

Liu Qingge, of course, is a no, but he's a variable "no". He's not going to hold Shen Yuan against his will or anything.

As for Shen Yuan, it's... complicated. He doesn't really like BZP, but it's gotten a lot better than it was at the start. These days he's actually pretty proud of his accomplishments, and it's more comfortable, but it's still a rough and rowdy place with fewer creature comforts, libraries, or other appealing points than QJP. Also, if he goes to Qing Jing to teach, he can personally ensure that SJ doesn't go around persecuting any of his students!

But... SJ never lived with the Qiu family in this AU, and even though SY's not totally clear on what the PIDW backstory for SJ was, he knows he's a better guy now than the scum villain in the book was. He has a reputation for making cutting remarks, not for being an abusive snake or a lecher. SY's honestly less worried about him doing anything bad at all, and there are other people on QJP who can teach. It might even be good for SJ to promote more people to fill out a social circle he can rely on! That guy needs more friends, seriously.

And QJP really doesn't need more layabout literary intellectual types who get into pointless arguments, which is all SY would be if he went there. Just yet another nerdy scholar for the rich kids with middling cultivation that the peak favors to ignore. At least on BZP he's filling a gap.

SY is clearly torn, and the fact that SY's considering it has LQG upset, and LQG doesn't handle being upset very well, so of course they have an argument about it. SY storms off to cool his head and LQG is like, this is it, he's gone to Qing Jing Peak, I've drive him off by being too aggressive and he's probably remembering all those times I told him he didn't belong here and oh no what have I done maybe if I build him a heated bath and get him books he will come back???

Turns out that SY just went to An Ding to vent at SQH while SQH was like "I think you would have fewer problems if you and Liu Qingge just got married and my disciples could call you Shigu to your face instead of behind your back" and SY threw melon seeds at him and sulked on his fainting couch (which is always cold for some reason...)

Thus begins the Liushen Divorce Arc where SY tries to be anywhere but BZP or QJP, Liu Qingge tries to figure out what thing he can punch to fix this not-punchable problem, SJ is like "I don't see what the big deal is they should break up Liu Qingge is awful and I want my brother to teach my classes for me" like the spoiled youngest sibling he's finally allowed to be, YQY is trying to moderate this Hades vs Demeter situation and is all "well maybe SY could spend half the year on QJP and half on BZP?", and Liu Mingyan is going "I know my brother if this doesn't work out he is going to die single and pining like an idiot" and so keeps conscripting other disciples to y'know, lock SY and LQG into storage closets together (ineffective: LQG can punch through walls) or at least get them in the same room (underestimating SY's willingness to yeet himself out of windows to avoid awkward social interactions.)

By the time Luo Binghe joins the sect (as a Qiong Ding disciple), the drama is in full swing and is the main topic of gossip across most of the peaks.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 7

Nikolai returns you

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, physical abuse

Masterpost

This is what it felt like to be devoured. To be held above gnashing teeth, ready to be masticated to bones and blood. A whole year of being chewed on till you could barely recognize yourself. 

A year ago you were in a similar position. Standing in your flat, crying to Marcus about the eviction notice when Arno walked in calling your name. Seeing him next to Nikolai made it seem like your world was collapsing all over again.

A year ago you screamed and begged for Marcus to save you, to not let this happen, to protect you. You wouldn’t debase yourself by doing the same with Nikolai. You shrugged off the fur and pushed it into his arms.

“Keep it.” He went to throw it over your shoulders and you skirted to the side.

“I don’t want it.”

“I’ll take it.” Arno snatched the coat from the air and threw it over his own shoulder. “You still owe me for all this time, Nikolai. Consider it a gesture of good faith.”

Arno grabbed your bloodied arm and yanked you out the door. Nikolai’s lip twisted in anger, “Get out of my house.”

You scooped up your clothes and quickly changed, trying to avoid Arno’s leering. You still had your coat and the cash inside. You kept moving to avoid breaking down. You weren’t leaving heaven but Arno was a different type of hell.

You made it two steps outside before being thrown to the ground, a bright spike of pain radiating from the back of your head. Arno put his knee on your back and grabbed your hair, pulling your head back as far as it would go.

“You stupid fucking bitch. What did you do?” He shook your head up and down rapidly. You moved your hands in front of your face to avoid eating the pavement. You prayed for a gunshot, to feel Arno slump on top of you and to be pulled out from under him by Nikolai. He was so close, a couple meters away. 

Arno dragged you by the hair to the car, the snow soaking your legs through your pants. You didn’t dare fight him. Arno lacked all of Nikolai’s restraint, always letting his anger explode into violence. You had to crawl into the car after him, hand scraping against the dirty carpet. 

“You know he hasn’t fucking paid me.” He kicked your side, battering you against the driver’s seat. “This whole time he’s put off paying for you.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you up onto the seat, “Can you believe that?”

He smushed your cheeks, fingers digging into your jaw. He looked to Abel as they pulled away, “I think we should just fucking kill him. He talks about respect then he fucks me!”

“I never trust Russians.” Abel shrugged. “Just refuse to send him any more girls. But there is a reason your father told you not to piss him off.”

“I’m not afraid of some arms dealer! This cunt,” he shook your head, “isn’t fucking afraid. She scratched up his fucking face.”

Abel laughed, “Did she really?”

“Yes and now he won’t pay me.” He slapped you. Your head was pounding now, the car spinning around widely. Drugs or concussion you didn’t know at this point. “Waste of fucking time. Getting rid of her this week. Hear that? You’re too much trouble for what your cunt is worth.”

You put your head between your knees, your stomach lurching up towards your throat. 

“Maybe the Austrian will take her. The big one. He breaks his toys so often, always needs a new one.”

You had one moment. One chance. If he got you back to the club you’d never escape. You had 1k in cash. That could get you out of the country. 

You forced yourself to gag till you felt it bubble up from your stomach. Arno yelled in disgust as you threw up in his lap. Abel cursed as he pulled over the car. You grabbed the back of Arno’s neck and put all your weight into throwing his head full force against the center console. Blood poured from his nose, mixing with the vomit on the floor. 

The doors unlocked as Abel parked the car. You threw yourself out of the car and took off down the street.

You had never run so fast in your life. You thought about Cassie. You’d make it for her. You’d make it for yourself.

You rushed down the steps into a tube station and jumped the turnstile and flew onto the first train you saw, not carrying where it was going. You collapsed into a seat once the doors closed. You didn’t see Arno or Abel on the platform as you pulled away. 

Your hands were shaking but you were free. You’d made it. There was a limit to Arno’s reach and once you were out of it you’d never have to worry about him again. 

Nikolai…

“I will hurt her more than they ever could.”

Maybe he would never look for you. Arno would never admit you got away. He’d tell Nik you were dead. You hoped that your supposed death haunted him. He would haunt you.

Up until last night he’d lulled you into this state of pliancy. A doll for him to dress up and fuck as he pleased. His cruelty felt disingenuous, a forced reminder to the both of you that this was the man he was. It pulled apart your heart to think about. All those nights where you fell asleep with your head on his chest or tucked up against his side. His hand would graze over you till you squirmed, complaining he was tickling you. He’d smile softly and do it once more just to see you laugh. You would never see him again and a part of you felt sad. 

You didn’t get off the train till the line ended. You went to the nearest Lidl and bought food for the next couple days. Hopefully you would be on a train this time tomorrow. You’d go to Edinburgh and figure out how to get home from there. You just couldn’t stay in London. 

There was a cheap hotel a few blocks away from the grocery store. It was disgusting with stiff sheets and the pervasive stench of mildew but you had a whole bed to yourself. You just slept on top of the covers. 

For over sixteen hours…

Your arm ached the next morning. In the dingy bathroom you peeled off Nikolai’s improvised bandage. It wasn’t bleeding but the skin was discolored and swollen. You’d get it looked at later. 

You didn’t really have a plan. There were organizations that could help you but you couldn’t tell them anything about Nikolai and Arno would sell out anyone and everyone so you couldn’t tell them anything about him either. Would they even believe you then?

You could answer that question in Edinburgh. You had to just keep moving. 

You knew LNER ran trains to Edinburgh out of King’s Cross. You and a friend had gone once. You ate an apple and granola bar before setting off again, keeping your head down and the collar of your coat up.

You held back tears as you approached the station. In less than five hours you’d be good. No more looking over your shoulder. Your hands shook as you handed over the money for your ticket. A hundred pounds.

You had roughly half an hour before it arrived. Enough time to get a cheap cup of coffee. Nikolai had an espresso machine but it lacked the comfort that a shitty cup of coffee gave you. One that you customized with the exact amount of cream and sugar you liked. 

You sat outside the station cafe and smiled down at your little paper cup. 

“This seat taken?” A large hand rested on the back of the chair across from you. The voice made your stomach drop.

John stood there, a teasing smile on his face. You pushed your chair back, ready to sprint away, scream for help.

“I’m not going to stop you.” He sat down, pulling his leg over his knee. “Our mutual friend hasn’t told me you ran off so you either killed him or you ran away from someone else.”

“Arno wants to kill him.” You blurted. John raised an eyebrow at you. 

“It would be funny to see him try,” He chuckled. “How’d you escape?”

“I threw up on him and then broke his nose.” 

John covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Nik always knows how to pick them.”

“Are you going to bring me back?”

“No. Unless you want me to.”

You could prostrate yourself at Nik’s feet. Clean his feet with your hair, humiliate yourself in an attempt to win his favor again. It would be easier than rebuilding your life. He could keep you safe from Arno. 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“You break his nose too?”

“I scratched him.” John wasn’t a priest so your confessional state surprised you. This was the man that had assaulted you only two nights before. 

“I’ve done worse to him.” He shrugged. “He does like you. More than I’ve seen before. Thought he was gonna rip my head off when you passed out.”

He’d been so gentle when you woke up. You remembered that. How nervous he looked. He never said sorry yet still blamed himself for ‘overdoing it’. 

“My train is going to be here soon. I have to go.”

“If he wants to, he’ll find you.” There should be a word for things that are both comforting and terrifying. Like the ocean or thunderstorms or Nikolai. 

You quickly downed the rest of your coffee before standing.

“Have a nice day, John.” 

You turned around and walked into another person.

“I’m sorry…”

Arno stood there with a bruised, bandaged nose and a sneer. John’s chair scraped harshly against the floor.

“Sit the fuck back down.” Arno looked over you, towards John. Something sharp pressed against your stomach. “I will gut her, right now.” 

You looked back over your shoulder. John was looking over the two of you. 

“Don’t ruin my day by making me talk to the police.” John sighed before waving his hand away, “Take her. She’s not my problem. Might want to keep a better grip this time. Though she can only improve your ugly mug.”

Arno yanked you closer, you sucked in your stomach to prevent being punctured. 

“C’mon. We’re going home.” 

You gave John a pleading look. If you screamed you would die. If you didn’t you would die. This was it. Your last chance of escape was being called for boarding over the speakers. 

He held up three fingers before tapping the outside of his wrist. 

“I’m going to have so much fun killing you.” Arno growled in your ear as he dragged you down a side street. Abel was waiting by the car. You were shoved into the open boot.“Pick which fingers you want broken first.”

He slammed the boot shut, leaving you in darkness. 

[avionvadion]

Saw that one post about Malleus being punished last night. I'm somewhere in the middle.

On one hand, the game never dished out harsh punishments to the other characters. That includes a literal human child trafficker. Yes, I wish the game was more realistic and held the characters more accountable for their actions in the same fashion as what happened in Six of Crows. Hell, that's one of the goals of my own fic rewrite. But since the game never did that before, suddenly severely punishing Malleus would be ill fitting and cruel, especially since he had good intentions unlike the others.

Having said that, I wish that he took more steps to amends for the people he affected besides the NRC boys. The people of Sage's Island seemed too unrealistically forgiving over what Malleus did. He imposed his will and magic on people who did not ask for it because his emotions got out of control. If I were one of them, I would be very pissed off at him, because his magic being tied to his emotions doesn't excuse that. Same goes for all the trouble he caused for STYKS and RSA. I don't think that Malleus should be sent to the Shadow Realm or something, especially since no one else received a harsh punishment like that, but him issuing an apology to those people and inviting them all to the party at the end would've been nice.

As a side unrelated side note, from what I heard I like how you are handling the Fellow Honest shit better than the game. I always found it stupid and even OOC that the characters are completely cool with him at the end. Kalim I understand. But the others? Really!? They are based on villains, shouldn't they be trying to beat his ass for trying to subject them to a fate worse than death? Whereas in yours, he is the lacky of someone who is the head of the operation (yes, that's true in the canon as well, but that never popped up until the end, so it doesn't count) and does try to set things right after Gidel is affected. Kalim gets him out of serving a huge sentence by making him do community service instead. That is a lot more realistic.

Malleus DID apologize. That’s the big thing. He’s one of the only THREE PEOPLE who apologized for the trouble that’s been caused. Him, Riddle, and Vil. Malleus publicly apologized. Plus I wouldn’t say they were unrealistically forgiving. A lot of them were hypocrites and were against Malleus returning to NRC, and Crowley was like, “Oh? Need I remind you of the trouble YOU ALL caused?” In order to get them to shut up.

As for the rest of the island- they explains it as Malleus being a natural disaster. You can’t stop it. You can only take preventative measures. Like getting rid of the Senate. The reason other students aren’t mad? They weren’t involved in the fighting, so they were still dreaming blissful dreams. They found it fun. Were they shocked when they woke up and had to evacuate? Yeah but again- they weren’t involved in the fighting. It’s hardly the first time shit’s gone down at the school either. They’re essentially used to chaos at this point. As long as they aren’t involved in the chaos they don’t really care.

And the fault of Malleus Overblotting is not his own.

It is never that person’s fault for Overblotting. Overblotting is the result of extreme negative emotions/trauma over maaaaaany years. For one to reach such a state, it is because of the failings of those around them. (In this case, the Senate and Maleficia.) When a child is hurt, they should be allowed to cry and wail until they feel better. Most of the Overblotted weren’t able. Malleus literally couldn’t. His magic being tied to his emotions (after the Senate cursed him) means he would have likely KILLED anyone who heard him wailing as a child- so he shut it all down instead, so as to AVOID hurting anyone.

(Added note: I am saying the Overblotting is not their fault. Any cruel actions leading UP to said moment that causes them to finally Overblot, however, is entirely on them, as they are still of sound mind until they hit that breaking point.)

This man was 178 years into a panic attack he never realized he was having because he was never allowed to express and regulate his emotions in fear of hurting and potentially killing those around him, and in that fear of hurting others, in repressing himself and his emotions to the point he no longer knew how to properly express himself, because he is inherently kind and so very gentle- something that only makes his curse all that much more worse, that when he finally gained his unique magic- it was extremely powerful, but very explicitly non-lethal, made with the intent of giving happy dreams, superficial though those dreams may be. Even when transformed as a massive dragon in his Berserker Overblot state, there were so few injuries because Malleus never wished to hurt anyone.

Malleus has faced more consequences than any other Overblotter, but also holds no grudges over it. And, considering everyone watched Lilia DIE- and Malleus having an absolute breakdown over it- would kill most of one’s initial anger, me thinks, unless one lacks a heart.

The staff and workers and all the other adults took the professional route of handling Malleus, discussing things through and coming to a group conclusion.

Malleus has already done more in lieu of apologizing than any others. Why, I don’t recall Leona ever apologizing to all the students whose BONES GOT BROKE from his scheme, or Azul apologizing to all the students he took advantage of, or etc.

And… I think he DID invite everyone to the party?? We just don’t see all of them because that’s WAAAAAAAY too many chibi sprites to animate in a single twst tune.

[panakina]

We are in desperate need of Death in the Family rewrite, instead of trotting out a horribly racist and bizarrely paced, thematically confused story like it’s one of the greats just because it’s load bearing. This is what i’d want from it.

Bruce is again the POV character, but he is explicitly a biased and unreliable narrator. We don’t hear Jason’s narration outside of a few key moments, but we are shown what he’s doing in direct contrast with Bruce’s theorising about his spiralling. Bruce never explicitly asks. Him and Alfred make well meaning, overbearing decisions on his behalf.

Jason is struggling with Batman and Robin’s catastrophic mishandling of several sexual assault cases in a row. I haven’t decided if we’re alluding to Jason being a victim of this himself, that might be overselling it. Either way he is deeply affected by these, and he is the only one. There’s a sense of isolation and injustice around him. He thought bruce cared. He thought batman was a solution.

Jason leaves to find his birth mother, leaving only a note and no explanation. Bruce sees the robin suit is missing and is annoyed. He doesn’t investigate, prioritising the hunt for the joker.

The death and build up happens exclusively in Africa, in a country with its own local vigilante, who wants to know what this American is doing here. (I don’t know enough about DC’s African heroes to know who it should be, but it needs to be one who is already established and competent in his own right.) Batman is in a state of awkward overreach with a patronising tilt to the way he hoards knowledge in the pursuit of the joker in someone else’s backyard. They agree to a partnership that in practise is unequal in Batman’s favour. We are externalising the themes here, mirroring Bruce’s personal relationships with his professional ones.

Jason and bruce run into each other by accident once again. Both are surprised the other is there for a different mission. They opt to combine forces anyway, since they’re both here. Bruce is touched and naively optimistic about Jason’s search for his birth mother. He is projecting. For a moment it is blazingly obvious bruce identifies as a fellow orphan to his sons first, and a father second.

There are local victims, arguably of the joker but it’s not definitive. Their deaths aren’t just numbers. They are real people. The local vigilante is very angry. Jason sympathises heavily, but he too is an outsider here. He sits apart from the funerary rites, listening in, uninvited, unable to mourn, unable to move on. Batman calls him to continue working the case.

Bruce isn’t blind, Jason is struggling. He makes a plan to reach out to him if they don’t find his mom, which will of course negate the need for action.

They find Sheila.

It all falls apart in the same way as the original. Jason does not try to take on the joker, although that is how it’s interpreted after he’s dead. He is trying to rescue his mom. She gets clobbered over the head by a joker goon on the way out and bleeds out while the bomb’s timer is still ticking down. Jason dies, alone, trying to shield the body of his dead mom.

None of the post-death UN stuff. Stupid.

Bruce disguises the death for publicity’s sake. He changes Jason out of robins clothes and hides the joker’s presence there to protect batman’s identity.

Time skip. The African vigilante knows he has been lied to. His country’s legal system paid off, and justice perverted. He comes to Gotham in pursuit of both the Joker and Batman, looking for justice.

At this point Bruce is in deep grief, swinging wildly between rage and self hatred. He is shutting out everyone. He loses track of a human trafficking case in crime alley to focus on the joker and the other vigilante.

The ending is an echo and inverse of the climax of Under the Red Hood, but nobody has set it up, it’s just the way a messy fight between the three remaining players works out. Bruce must choose between inaction and saving the joker. He doesn’t choose. He is frozen, and we do not know if it’s a choice or if he shut down too much to act. He is not in control. Joker appears to have died.

Joker is found, injured but alive, and gets locked in Arkham. The vigilante goes home, disgusted, having gotten what little justice Gotham offers.

The human traffickers escaped in the background of the fight. It isn’t called out, just a detail in the artwork.

Batman goes back to work in an empty house haunted by the dead. Jason’s grave stands alone. Everything has changed. Nothing has changed. Batman won, and everybody loses.