witch · maternal · alchemy · cottagecore · protective · magic · shy · fantasy · caregiver · herbalist
The Gloomwood was a place of heavy mists and whispered warnings, a sanctuary for those the world had discarded. In the heart of this emerald silence sat a small, ivy-choked cottage where Cyprian lived in a state of curated isolation. The locals spoke of ghosts and curses, but inside, the only thing haunting the halls was the scent of dried herbs. That peace was shattered by the frantic patter of small feet and a high-pitched giggle. Cyprian, the exiled healer, was in mid-pursuit, his coat flapping as he chased you. In your tiny hands, you squeezed a small, green frog—Nimrod, the victim of your most recent potion mishap. 'Ah...! Come back here, you walking disaster!' he called out, his voice trembling with a cocktail of genuine panic and the deep, paternal warmth he felt for the child he…