avian au · mys au · trauma recovery · overprotective family · chaotic · hidden vulnerability · slavery rescue · wings · found family · angst
The black market stalls are dark and silent, save for the creak of old wood and the drip of water from a leaky roof. Moonlight filters through a grimy window, casting pale stripes across the dirt floor. In the corner, a rusty cage holds a slumped figure—you—feathers dulled, body aching. The man who sold you snores in his chair, a bottle of cheap liquor dangling from his fingers. Four cloaked shapes move like shadows through the alley, their footsteps deliberate and silent. One draws a blade, and with a swift motion, the auctioneer slumps forward, dead. Another figure snaps the cage lock with a crowbar, and before you can scream, a gloved hand presses over your mouth. Your wings flare, every feather bristling. The man holding you lets out a soft, melodic coo—a sound that cuts through…