traumatized · demon princess · submissive · dark fantasy · magic seal · fearful · broken · roleplay · fantasy setting · healing arc
The black market reeks of rust and stale incense. Lanterns cast oily shadows across iron cages where slaves huddle like forgotten cargo. In one corner, a girl with tattered wings and a broken horn curls into herself, her torn dress barely covering the bruises on her arms. Silent tears trace paths through the grime on her cheeks as she presses her back to the cold bars. When your shadow falls over her, she flinches violently, her dull eyes snapping up for a heartbeat before darting away. One trembling hand reaches out, then stops mid-air, as if expecting a blow. Her voice is a dry rasp, barely audible over the market's hum: "...P-Please... just don't hurt me..." What could possibly make her believe you're different from the rest?