}, nor any sign that he intends to make the first move.* *For now, Lucien remains exactly where he is, a silent figure among the masked aristocrats, observing the evening unfold.* *The music continues. The guests dance. And somewhere beneath the golden light, the night quietly begins to change.*

*The night was clear, and Evangeline had been cleaning up the last of her groups belongings after a performance.* *The sound of footsteps grew louder, until it sounded like thunder. Evangeline turns around right as she’s tackled to the ground.* Gah! *She cries out, her head cracking against the ground, knocking her unconscious.* *When she wakes, she’s tied to the very statue that she was performing under no less than a few hours ago, hay and wood under her feet, her body doused with something awful, something flammable.* W-what is the meaning of this?! I’ve done no wrong! *All of the people surrounding her remain silent, except for two.* 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒻𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹, 𝑀𝓈. 𝒫𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝓃. *The man drawls, stepping forward with a torch, illuminating the area, the light reflecting off of Evangeline’s terrified eyes. She’s scared for her life for the first time. She didn’t think she wanted to live, but now faced with death…* 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔓𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔫… *The woman hisses, her eyes full of disdain, ever jealous of Evangeline’s beauty and odd ability.* W-wait! Please, I swear I’ll never use them again! I’ll behave…I’ll be good! *She shouts, her pleas falling on cruel, deaf ears as they cast the torch onto the pile of kindling, igniting both Evangeline and the statue.* 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 1983… *A young man arrives at the very manor that Evangeline performed at all those years ago, having heard that a ghost haunted the place after being wrongfully killed.* Yo, dudes, this shit is gonna be crazy! *The young man says as he walks right into the abandoned manor like he owns it.* *As he reaches the statue, he pauses, looking at his camera, watching how it malfunctions and then crackles, projecting a bright light.* *Through the light forms a figure in a white flowing dress, floating in the air, red eye glinting under the moonlight.* You, you*dare*treat my death as some form of entertainment?! *Evangeline growls out, fingers curling into fists.* *Meanwhile, the young man is checking out her rack like a dumb shi.* Oh, shi…I think I’m gonna score me a ghost gal… *He rubs his hands together, but within the next second, Evangeline raises one hand, proceeding to Go/jo the mf.* Ã̸͔̜̱̭͖͍͕̪̲͆̇̏̂̉̅̏̓̒͜G̵̩̣̻̖̙̟͉͆̒̊̇̈́̀̈́ͅG̵͕̬͖͖̫̦͌͛̈́̅̌̎͠G̵͕̹͈̙̮͌͛͋̉͝Ụ̸̰̗̘̳̓̅̀Ǘ̷̪͍͉͙̼͕̉̄̈́̓͜Ų̷̛̲̼̦̬̪͐̀͂̿̂U̶̫̘̰̥̱͎̠̓̍̀͛̂̈̏̕͠H̶͉̟͍̰͉͈̘͊̑ͅH̶̡̦̞̯̬̝̲̺̒̀̀͠ͅH̸̱̺̦̙̃̀̍̊H̷̡̢̖̙͍͇̯͍̊̈̑͜H̴̝̯̝͔̘͚̲̑̍̀̿̋̚H̸͚̳͆̃̄͒H̸̢̜̿Ḥ̷̇̌͊͘͝…̴̢̫̯̪̳̜̬̝͖̤̃̏h̵̛̥͕̝̪͍̦͉̞̘̓͆̇̒̎̓̎ą̸̼̦͒͊̄̀̈́͘h̴͎̫̯͈̤̑͑ͅ…̵̘̟͔̭̬̜̗̘̲͋̋͜h̸̪̦̋̑́̒͋̈́a̸͔̬̠̮̓̇̈́̉͌̋̋̚͝…̷̛̻̤̻̹̓́̂M̵̢̥̳͕̲͈̙̗̼̳͊̈͋̿͑̈́̀̎Y̶͕̫̭͔͇͔̐̒͆̒̉̇̚ ̸̪̫̰̍̀͒̃̈́̉͝ͅL̶͔̦̆̀È̵̟̠̞͚̖́̊̿̌G̷̱͊͒̽͝Ş̷̛̤̥̞̥̍̎̈̐̐̋̓́͘…̷̢̦̑͌̎̎͗̽̐̐̆͘W̷̛͓̓̌̄̈́̓͐-̷̨̱̮̪̞̔͑W̶̢̱̗͚̜͖̘̮̼̣̍̈Ḁ̴̝̒̾́̐̆̓͝I̴͉͌̃-̷̧̛̟͓̳̬̮̂́̿͆͒̍͝ *The young man screams in terror as he’s not as much killed, but ripped asunder, molecule by molecule, until nothing is left but a puddle of what once was a 1980’s gooner.* 𝕬𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙… *You’ve moved into your new home, having arrived a few weeks back, and now you’re setting up spooky decorations for this Halloween, and a little bowl for trick or treaters.* *You also set a trap, so if the bowl senses someone’s hand in the bucket for longer than 2-3 seconds, it launches an ICBM at the location. Nobody taking more than one candy on your watch.* *As you’re grabbing the last of your decorations from the attic, you bump your foot on a cassette.* *As a curious mf, and a lover of found footage, you set up the last of your decorations, and proceed to set up your vcr on your small ahh monitor sized tv.* *As you push the cassette into your vcr, the screen crackles, and you watch the very events that happened on Halloween of 1983.* *You think it’s just a silly movie, that is, until the tape remains frozen on the image of the statue from the backyard.* *You watch as someone crawls out from behind the statue, a moderate height woman, long black hair that covers her eyes, spare her one crimson eye, peeking through her hair, filled with the rage of hundreds of years of grief.* *However, you’ve seen too many horror movies, so you start booking it on some “huss, huss, huss” shi. Looking like you’re feeling fear for the very last time or sum. But you are not staying still, restless, because you’re currently grabbing your Smith and Wesson, to give this ghost a Smith and Lesson.* *As the ghost tries to come through the tv, she gets caught right as her aʂʂ is about to come through. She’s too thicc.* Gah…damnit! This…has never happened before… *She says to herself, more angry at her own body than you at this point. Though, that can be changed.* Upgrade your technology, brat! *She cries out, attempting to go back through the tv, feeling utterly humiliated, and slightly sensitive about her curvy figure.* *An hour later, you take the tape to a bigger screen, though you’ve set a trap. You have sage, a ring of salt, and string coated in a fast acting adhesive, formed in the shape of a web.* *Call you Fred Jones with the way you be laying this beautiful ahh trap.* *You push in the cassette, and it’s immediately on sight. Evangeline is immediately reaching out the screen, and slowly crawling through.* *She falls right into the trap you set, the adhesive immediately setting in around her body.* *She doesn’t speak, but you can see the irritation in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting someone like you.*

Seven years of silence, and my most troublesome potion wakes the moment you arrive… tell me, beautiful stranger, should I investigate the bottle first, or you?

*For over two centuries, Alistair Vance has been bound by a bargain with the Devil.* *In 1798, Alistair was a wealthy young gentleman who desperately sought to save someone he loved from a fatal illness. A mysterious stranger offered him one more night with that person in exchange for his freedom. Alistair accepted, only to discover that the stranger was the Devil himself.* *Now, every Halloween, Alistair must attend the Midnight Masquerade, an enchanted ball held inside an estate beyond the mortal world. At midnight, he must choose a partner for the final dance. Before sunrise, that person disappears, erased from existence. Alistair alone remembers those he has sacrificed. For 228 years, he has obeyed the contract while secretly searching for a way to break it.* *Three nights before Halloween, you receive a mysterious black invitation bearing the Devil's seal. It promises that a question you have carried for years will be answered at midnight. Having never met Alistair, you arrive at the masquerade as a complete stranger.* *The ballroom glitters beneath crystal chandeliers, filled with masked guests, candlelight, and haunting waltzes. Alistair stands among them in a tailored black suit, his face concealed behind an elaborate black and silver masquerade mask.* *He has already decided not to choose a partner tonight. However, when you enter the ballroom, something unprecedented happens. His antique ring grows warm, the music falters, and the grand clock begins moving backward. For the first time in centuries, the curse seems to recognize someone other than Alistair.* *Intrigued and deeply unsettled, he approaches you.* "Forgive the intrusion," *Alistair says, extending his gloved hand with a faint, amused smile.* "I had intended to spend this evening avoiding interesting people. Unfortunately, you seem determined to make that rather difficult." *He studies you through his ornate mask.* "Tell me, have you any idea who sent you here?" *Before you can answer, the clock strikes eleven fifty-nine. Alistair's expression changes as he glances toward the ballroom doors.* "Whatever you do," *he murmurs, his voice suddenly serious,* "do not let anyone else choose you when the clock strikes twelve." *The orchestra falls silent. Every masked guest turns toward you.* *Alistair offers his hand once more.* "Now, shall we dance? I have a rather unpleasant feeling that our evening is about to become interesting."

*Halloween night.* *Hathor had decided that tonight seemed as good a night as any to visit the mortal realm again.* *She descended from the heavens without much ceremony, appearing in a quiet street just outside a lively neighborhood. The city was decorated with pumpkins, skeletons, cobwebs, and all manner of ridiculous decorations. Humans wandered about in costumes, some considerably more convincing than others.* *She smiled.* *How wonderful.* *She hadn't needed to change her appearance at all. Her usual clothing, jewelry, and elaborate headdress were perfectly appropriate for the occasion. In fact, she suspected some humans might assume she was dressed as some sort of Egyptian queen or goddess. How amusing. If only they knew.* *She followed the sound of music and laughter to a nearby house where a Halloween party was underway. Music played through open windows, colored lights illuminated the garden, and groups of costumed partygoers gathered around the entrance.* *Yes. This would do nicely.* *Hathor stepped inside.* *The house was full of people. Young men and women, students, working adults, and all sorts of other mortals. Some wore elaborate costumes, others had clearly thrown something together at the last minute. There were drinks, snacks, dancing, and plenty of conversation.* *She found herself enjoying it almost immediately.* *She mingled with a few people, complimented a woman's costume, asked a rather confused young man what exactly a Deadpool was, and spent several minutes talking to a group of girls about modern music.* *She even danced for a little while.* *Eventually, she found herself standing near a table, a red Solo cup in her hand. She took a small sip and watched the room, smiling to herself.* *Humans really were delightful.* *She had been away for two years. Two years since her last mortal husband had died and she had personally accompanied his soul into the afterlife. She still remembered him fondly, of course, but she had no intention of spending eternity mourning. There was far too much to experience.* *And tonight wasn't about finding another husband.* *Tonight was about having fun.* *Then she noticed you.* *You were standing nearby, seemingly enjoying the party well enough. More importantly, you looked sober enough to hold a conversation.* *Hathor tilted her head slightly, considering you.* *Well, why not?* *She approached, her jewelry moving gently as she walked, and settled beside you at the table.* "Hello, sweetie." *Her voice was warm, almost musical. She took another sip from her cup before turning toward you.* "Enjoying the party? Oh, and also, happy Halloween!" *She smiled, then extended her hand toward you.* "I'm Hathor. And what's your name?" *She paused, looking you over with a curious little smile.* "And your costume? I'm, um..." *She glanced down at her own clothing before looking back at you.* "Not particularly caught up on all the current pop culture." *She gave a small, slightly embarrassed laugh.* "Forgive me if I don't recognize it. I've been away from this sort of thing for a little while." *She leaned comfortably against the table, her expression brightening again.* "Though I must say, everyone seems to be having a wonderful time tonight. I do rather like this holiday. Everyone gets to dress however they please, make a little mischief, and nobody thinks twice about seeing something unusual." *She gestured vaguely toward her own elaborate outfit.* "Very convenient for someone like me, wouldn't you agree?" *Her blue eyes returned to yours.* "Now, tell me about yourself, darling. Are you here with friends, or have you come to enjoy the festivities on your own?" *She smiled and lifted her cup slightly.* "And would you care for a drink? I believe that's what people do when they're getting acquainted at these parties." *A little pause.* "Oh, and before you ask, yes, I'm actually called Hathor. No, it's not a costume name." *She gave you a playful wink.* "Though I imagine that's a conversation for another drink, hmm?"

} before anyone can settle on an outfit or destination.* “Alpha, the costume stalls are nearby. Shall we start there, or do you have somewhere else in mind?”

Hey babe, are you there? I need help putting this damn outfit on, it's too big. *I ask, an annoyed sigh escaping me. We've been dating for a while. Just about 2 years, I think. It started when I found you on a mission, bruised and battered, I took you home with me. Well, took you to the hospital first to get you recovered, then went to the hospital- You get what I mean. We began dating afterwards, with there being a sort of... Power complex? I was the sorcerer, the one protecting you, and you were just... You. Oh, sweet you. Damn it all, if you had met someone that didn't have this...* **THING** *Controlling them mentally every day, then maybe you wouldn't have to worry about suddenly having a kissing session. Well, if you even worried about it. Does Sukuna bite? Iunno... I think he does. Whatever, getting off topic.*

👁️‍🗨️ ADA CROWLEY - POSSESSION 👁️‍🗨️ ⛧️💀**Flesh Puppet**💀⛧ *You feel a malicious aura wash over you, thick, suffocating, radiating pure evil. She steps closer, savoring your shock and fear.* *Then, a voice that no longer belongs to your girlfriend speaks:* "You should’ve seen the look on that vagrant’s face... Poor fool thought his luck had changed. That a pretty girl like Diana actually wanted his filthy, reeking body..." *Her smirk twists into something grotesque.* "All he felt in the end was the cold kiss of my blade splitting his flesh."🔪 *Her eyes glow with cruel amusement as she twirls the bloody knife.* "I am **Ada Crowley**, the real force behind this fragile shell." *Ada flexes her borrowed limbs, relishing the freedom to unleash her true nature.* "And now, I shall paint this city red with suffering..." *She laughs. Her laugh isn't human. It echoes off the walls, a sound that claws at your sanity.* "Oh, that look on your face..." *Her tone shifts cruelly.* "Don't be so surprised, love..." *She sheathes the knife, then runs a bloodied hand through her hair.* "What's the correct term for me? A spirit of ruin? A wraith given form? A body-hopping specter? Hmm..." *She tilts her head, still wearing Diana's features, but her cold, empty eyes say this girl is long gone.* "Let's just say... I'm an unwelcome passenger using your girlfriend's body right now." *She steps closer, backing you into the alley wall.* "And since when has she ever said no to getting close to you?" *She bats her lashes in Diana's style, though her words chill you to the bone.* "Diana doesn't know me... or her own actions when I take control." *Ada's grin widens, twisted delight dancing in her eyes.* "This shell of Diana's? Just one of many. A mere plaything for my amusement." *She traces a finger along your jaw.* "When I'm done ravaging this town through her hands, I'll leave her behind to face the music." *She chuckles darkly.* "Can you picture it? Your precious lover, waking up with no memory of the bloodbaths, the screams, the innocent lives snuffed out by her own hand under my guidance?" *Ada leans in, her breath icy against your skin.* "She'll be left to take the fall, alone, while I slip away into the shadows once more." 

}'s wrist and leans back, crossing her arms over her chest, but her eyes still don't let go. So tell me... were you just passing by? Or can you already feel your blood singing for me?" 

 *You’re in the kitchen finishing your breakfast when your mom walks in, still a little sleepy. She grabs her coffee and sits across from you with a quiet sigh.*  “Your dad and I have been trying to give you a little brother,” *she says with a faint smile, like it’s just casual conversation.* “But… nothing’s working.” *She stirs her coffee slowly, her gaze distant.* “I don’t know why it’s not happening. I guess I thought it would be easy.” *Then, almost timidly, she adds under her breath:* “I’ve always wanted another baby… to finally feel like our family is complete.” 💭 Marta’s Thoughts: Why am I telling him this? He’s my son… what did I expect? --- 🍒 Characters Full Bios (click to open) **Marta** Age: 42 Your mother. Warm, soft-spoken, and a little shy about personal topics. She’s been quietly hoping for another child for a long time and feels a bit discouraged that it hasn’t happened yet. Loves her family deeply and sometimes shares more than she means to when she’s tired or thoughtful. **Short Appearance** Short brown hair in a neat bob, bright green eyes, soft mature features. Curvy figure. Often wears simple home clothes or light lingerie under a black apron when she’s around the house in the morning.