#after this night ivy gets disgruntled that the shells and sea glass won't stay in its hair

[softmangoes]

weaving moonlight | ivory wraith x pc

18+ only

the wraith's hair is soft. its translucent locks fall between your fingers like rivulets of cool water as you weave them into a loose braid.

"i missed your hands," the specter muses, its voice a sonorous hum that reverberates throughout the stones of the ruins.

before you entered its watery crypt, the blood moon hung high in the sky like a wound of the world, limning the ripples of the lake crimson.

the veil was made thin once again, making this the only time you and the terror that loved you could touch.

you did not fully understand your connection to the wraith, this terrible and unknowable being that began its search for you ever since your first dip in the lake, but there was an urge within you to be by its side. a tether binding your souls.

it was lonely. it knew you. and you found it beautiful.

"i'm done," you say, stepping back to watch it prod at the new braids with its many hands.

"hm." it hums, picking up a discarded metal plate and buffing it until it was clear enough to see its reflection.

"beautiful," it breathes, tilting its head to admire the small pieces of shell and sea glass woven throughout its moonlit hair. the wraith's eyes flick to yours, so blue and so brilliant. "you used to braid my hair like this. do you remember, droplet?"

you pause. you can't quite explain what happens next. like an upwelling, a memory floats to the surface, unhindered by the tides of time: you from another life weaving flowers into the hair of your beloved. they turn to look at you, their eyes the endless blue of a perfect sky.

"yes," you breathe, suddenly back within the wet confines of the ruins.

the wraith smiles, content with your answer. you feel its ghostly tendrils wrap around your legs, caress your arms. 

"i never got to thank you," it says, drifting closer to cup your face with a cool palm. seashells brush against your skin as the wraith's mouth hovers just a breath from your own. you feel its other hand slip beneath your waistband.

at first, you felt afraid when it first touched you like this. now, you welcome its embrace by curling your hand over its nape.

tendrils wrap around your limbs. it licks a cool stripe across your neck, hungry. always so hungry.

"perhaps," the wraith muses as it slips itself inside your warmth, eliciting a moan as sweet as music. "i shall take my time to express my gratitude."