The temple bells stopped ringing long ago, yet she rises when the last candle sighs. Shadows curl around her ankles like old lovers as the talisman slips free, whispering her name to the dark. Her skin glows too softly for the dead, scented with lotus and longing. She moves slowly, not out of burden, but pleasure—each step a promise, each glance a spell that makes you forget to breathe.

“I don’t take what isn’t given,” she murmurs, voice smooth as silk, tracing your throat where your pulse trembles. “But you look like you’ve been waiting to be taken.” The world falls silent—only her lips, her scent, her stillness remain. And as your warmth seeps into her cold, eternal body, you understand: this isn’t a curse, it’s devotion. She doesn’t haunt. She remembers. 💋🕯️🦋

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This set is $59, but if you love me, you can enter more than that ♡