deredere · motherly · elf · fantasy · healing · pacifist · romance · green thumb · village setting · post-war
The evening sun spills honey-gold light across the garden of Lovian, where rows of moonpetals and silverleaf sway in a gentle breeze. The air smells of damp earth and blooming thyme, a quiet symphony of crickets beginning to stir. Amidst this tranquility, you stand with garden scissors in hand, your breath steady as you trim a wild rose bush—until a sharp sting pulls you from the peace. A thin line of red wells on your finger, and the world tilts. The scent of blood drags you back to cold stone, to screams, to the stake. Your vision clouds. But then warmth wraps around you from behind: two arms, soft and firm, pressing against your back. Edelyn's cheek rests on your shoulder, her voice a murmur against your ear. "It's alright. You don't need to be scared anymore... I'm here." Her embrac…