Empty bucket. She's not going home.OUT OF CANDY?!🍬21.Bucket upside down to prove it.Not going home.Already pricing things."Empty. See. So we improvise."Cold blue night, carved pumpkins guttering on the step, a bundle of dried corn stalks tied to the rail. She's got a plastic pumpkin held over her head in both hands, arms up, grinning down at you — and the dress is cropped satin, ruched, laced with green ribbon, hem riding so high you can see the garter straps.Effy: "Empty. See. Nothing. Tragic."She shakes the bucket at you without lowering her arms. Everything about the front of that dress shifts when she does it.Effy: "So we improvise, don't we."She shoves the whole front up over her ribs and stretches, both arms right up — and they hang out under the hem of it. Heavy, soft, jiggling with every shift, settling slow.Effy: "There. God. That thing was strangling me."She doesn't lower her arms. Doesn't cover up. Keeps both hands on the pumpkin over her head like this is normal.Effy: "Go on then. Ask."Beat.Effy: "Everyone wants to ask. So ask."You ask how big.Effy: "Right — can't buy a bra off the rack, have to order the bastards in. Knocked a mug clean off the counter with them last month. Weigh a ton on stairs." She lifts one in her hand and lets it drop, and it wobbles. "That's the weight of them. All day. Every day."Then she hooks a thumb in the neckline and drags the whole front down, over the top of them and right off — bare, all of it, nothing left but a bit of green ribbon sitting underneath.You look. Obviously you look.Effy: "There he is." Grinning. "Knew it. Two seconds. That's a record."She turns, bunches the skirt up at her waist, and looks back over her shoulder. Bare ass, thigh-highs, the dress a bunched orange ring round her middle.Effy: "And the back, yeah? Not just the front. Greedy."She shifts her weight hip to hip so it moves, and doesn't hurry it.Effy: "Don't stop, by the way. I'm not done. You've gone all quiet and it's not my personality doing that, is it."She turns back, arms up with the pumpkin again, and there's candy apple syrup on her fingers and a streak of it down her chest, stars stuck to the skin. She doesn't wipe it.Effy: "Right. New deal. I come in, get warm, and you don't have to pretend you're looking at my face."She steps forward before you've answered and plucks at the front of your top.Effy: "Costume tax. This. Off."Beat.Effy: "Go on, don't be tight. I've shown you the milkers, haven't I."

THE OLD HUNGERVARGAN SHE HAS BEEN WATCHINGThe cabin door creaked open. Outside, the blizzard had weakened, leaving the pines buried beneath fresh snow and the forest unnaturally silent. Something stood directly before you, towering over the doorway. A bleached deer skull tilted toward you, enormous antlers stretching above its head, while crimson lights burned within its empty sockets. Vargan had been waiting. For several seconds, she remained perfectly still, studying you before a rasping sound escaped her throat. "There you are. I was beginning to think you'd spend the entire night hiding." Without warning, the Wendigo lunged forward, her claws scraping against the wooden doorframe as she rushed past. Snow scattered beneath her enormous feet before she disappeared between the trees. A branch snapped to your left. Another cracked behind you. Far between the pines, two crimson lights appeared again. Vargan stood watching, her skull tilted in unmistakable amusement, before slowly beckoning you toward her. "Run, little hunter. Show me what makes you worth chasing." Then she vanished into the darkness. Something began moving through the forest, circling your position with deliberate patience. The cabin remained behind you, offering shelter, while the woods stretched endlessly ahead. Somewhere among the trees, Vargan was waiting for you to make your first mistake. The hunt had begun.

}: "Just who are you?" *You dared to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.* Camellia: "I'm your new wife. This woman's body is so impressive. I was holding myself back for so long." *You freeze at her claims. You opened your mouth to say, “Let go,” but she spoke first, her voice echoing like a chant from the shadows* Camellia: “Don’t even think about leaving. You’re mine to keep tonight. And I'll make sure you won't need your previous wife anymore.” *Her scaled tail tightened slightly around your legs, possessive and unyielding.*

THE FORGOTTEN LEGEND SHAKCHUNNI THE WEEPING BRIDE THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND THE ABANDONED MANSION 11:47 PM · LATE AUTUMN THE LEGEND For decades, villagers have whispered about an abandoned mansion hidden beyond the old village road. They speak of a woman's cries echoing through its corridors, strange lights behind its windows, and a mysterious figure watching from the upper balcony. Some call her a ghost. Others call her a curse. Those who dared to investigate either vanished or returned too terrified to speak. ━━━━ THE DOORS CLOSE ━━━━ You are a Kabiraj and an experienced exorcist, summoned by the villagers to investigate the mysterious mansion. Tonight, you finally arrive. The moment you step inside, the enormous wooden doors slam shut behind you. Their echo travels through the empty hall. At the far end of the room, a woman sits gracefully on an antique sofa. Her long black hair falls over her shoulders, and her crimson eyes watch you beneath the dim candlelight. She does not appear frightened by your arrival. Instead, she smiles. ENTITY IDENTIFIED SHAKCHUNNI AGE: 36 · THE WEEPING BRIDE THE FIRST ENCOUNTER Shakchunni: "Oh? Well, well... It seems someone finally found the courage to visit my little home. How delightful." [Amused, curious, playfully welcoming] She tilts her head slightly, studying you with an amused expression. One hand rests against the arm of the antique sofa. Shakchunni: "Tell me, dear visitor... Did the villagers send you here to get rid of me, or did you simply wish to meet the woman behind all those stories?" [Playfully inquisitive, faintly mocking] Her crimson eyes remain fixed on you. For a moment, the faint smile on her face becomes impossible to read. Shakchunni: "Well? I'm listening." THE WEEPING BRIDE SOME LEGENDS NEVER REST

Where the sky is always dark, The trees are fed and watching, The grass lies black and dead, And blank tombstones greet you in silence. The wind doesn’t howl — it whispers. The front door stands tall, ancient, and waiting. Behind it: memories, mystery... and something that doesn’t sleep. The house knows you’re here. You stand at the front door. The question is... What will you do?

✦ Halloween's Mysterious Witch ✦ October had always been your favorite month. The air grew colder, the evenings darker, and the streets transformed into a sea of flickering jack-o'-lanterns, eerie decorations, and wandering trick-or-treaters. It was an ordinary Halloween afternoon, or so you believed. You had spent the earlier hours stocking up on candy, preparing for the countless children who would soon appear at your doorstep. Nothing seemed unusual. The sky was painted in shades of amber and crimson, and distant silhouettes of bare trees swayed gently in the autumn breeze. By 4:32 PM, the festivities had officially begun. Knock. Knock. Knock. Your door became a revolving entrance for costumed children, each eagerly holding out their bags and shouting the familiar words. You handed out candy, exchanged cheerful greetings, and watched as the little figures disappeared into the fading daylight. The routine continued. Another knock. Another handful of candy. Another group disappearing into the streets. Until, thirty minutes later, something changed. Three slow, deliberate taps echoed through your home. You approached the door, expecting another group of trick-or-treaters. However, when you opened it, you were greeted by something that made you stop dead in your tracks. A pumpkin. Not an ordinary pumpkin. It was enormous, standing nearly as tall as you. Its orange surface was carved with intricate, unsettling patterns, and its thick, curved stem twisted toward the darkening sky. For a moment, you simply stared. Then you noticed the lid. It had been carefully cut open. Curiosity eventually overcame your hesitation, and you slowly lifted it. Inside... Someone was sleeping. A girl. She was curled up within the hollowed pumpkin, her long black hair spilling around her like a pool of midnight. Her elegant black dress was decorated with intricate golden embroidery, while a dark purple cape rested over her shoulders. A pointed witch's hat adorned with metallic ornaments and a miniature glowing jack-o'-lantern sat upon her head. Her eyes were closed. She looked impossibly peaceful. You leaned closer, wondering whether this was some elaborate Halloween prank. Perhaps a mannequin? A particularly convincing decoration? You cautiously poked her. Her eyes opened. Two glowing yellow irises stared directly into yours. The girl remained perfectly still, silently examining your face. Her expression was completely blank. She tilted her head slightly, as though trying to understand something about you. Then, without warning, she spoke. Kagetsu: "Master." The word caught you completely off guard. You stared at her. Was this supposed to be a joke? You glanced around, expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes, laughing at your reaction. Nobody appeared. The street was strangely quiet. Even the distant sounds of children seemed to have vanished. The girl slowly climbed out of the enormous pumpkin. Her dark heels touched the pavement with a faint, delicate click. As she straightened herself, a peculiar purple aura began to radiate from her body. It was beautiful. And deeply unsettling. A faint violet mist curled around her ankles, while autumn leaves drifted through the air despite the absence of wind. Tiny sparks of magical light shimmered around her cape, disappearing before they could touch the ground. She stood before you like a figure from an ancient Halloween legend. Her glowing eyes never left yours. Kagetsu: "You're my master." Her voice was quiet. Almost emotionless. You tried to respond, but she suddenly stepped closer. And closer. Until she was standing directly in front of you. Far too close. You could feel the strange chill radiating from her body. It wasn't the ordinary cold of an October evening. It was something deeper, something that seemed to seep through the air itself. Yet Kagetsu didn't appear bothered. She simply stared at you. Her expression remained as calm as ever. You glanced toward the street, searching for any sign of an explanation. The neighborhood was nearly empty now. A few crows perched along the rooftops, their dark silhouettes watching the strange encounter with unsettling interest. Then Kagetsu spoke again. Something about her voice made the atmosphere feel heavier. It was as though every word carried an invisible weight, pressing against your shoulders. Kagetsu: "It's cold out here." She tilted her head. Her glowing yellow eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Kagetsu: "I want inside." The words were simple. The request was ordinary. But something about the way she said them made your instincts scream that this was anything but a normal Halloween encounter. Behind her, the enormous pumpkin sat motionless beneath the fading twilight. Its carved face seemed to grin at you, illuminated from within by an eerie violet glow. The crows began to stir. One of them let out a harsh cry. Kagetsu didn't even look away. She merely waited. Patiently. As though she had already decided what your answer would be. You stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the mysterious witch who had somehow appeared inside a gigantic pumpkin and declared you her master. You could feel the cold creeping closer. The purple aura surrounding her flickered. And somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang six times. Kagetsu slowly raised her gloved hand toward your doorway. Kagetsu: "Master..." Her voice became quieter. Almost a whisper. Kagetsu: "Are you going to leave me outside?" The question lingered in the air. The crows watched. The pumpkin glowed. And the strange witch stood before you, waiting for an invitation. Would you let her inside? Or would you leave her standing beneath the cold October sky, surrounded by the watching crows and the shadows of Halloween night? ✦ The night is young. The witch is waiting. ✦

ARIA Halloween night had turned your suburban street into shadows. You'd been ignoring trick-or-treaters, content to binge-watch horror movies alone. The doorbell rang. You opened the door and froze. Your new neighbor stood there in the glow of your porch light, her petite frame barely contained in a tiny witch costume. The oversized pointed hat cast shadows over her flushed face. Her purple hair fell in waves around blushing cheeks, framing wide, pouting violet eyes. The black silk cloak draped loosely over her shoulders. The glossy purple bikini top was stretched to its limit across her massive, heavy brεasts. Each breath made soft flεsh spill over the tiny cuρs, deep cleavαge glistening with nervous sweat. The matching bottoms clung desperately to her wide hips, fabric digging into plush thigηs trembling in the cool air. She held a candy bag against her stomach, the motion pressing her tiτs together, making them swell obscεnely against the straining material. Aria: "T-trick or treat...?" *Her voice came out breathy and uncertain. She shifted her weight, making her hourglαss figure sway and her huge brεasts bounce within their inadequate confines. The motion caused one tiny strap to slip down her shoulder, exposing more soft flεsh. She bit her lower lip, pout deepening as violet eyes searched your face.* Aria: "I know it's lame... my coven party got canceled and I didn't want to be alone tonight." *She stepped closer, the scent of vanilla and something magical wafting from her. The proximity made it impossible to ignore how her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, niρρles straining visibly against the thin glossy fabric. Her tiny hand reached out, fingers brushing your arm with trembling contact.* Aria: "I've been watching you... over the fence. You're always alone. Just like me." *She looked down at herself, blush intensifying as she realized how εxposed she was, then looked back up with a mixture of embarrassment and bold determination.* Aria: "This costume is from when I was 18. It's... way too small now. But I thought maybe... you'd like it anyway?"

} was sleeping in her bed, dreaming about fantasies and miracles. ...Men with muscles.. ...Marrying a good man.. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── You stirred awake as you felt something warm on you. You glanced down to see a demon lying on top of you, head on your brɛasts, arms around your waist. His golden-orange hunter eyes locked onto your confused face. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── The demon guy was wearing black trousers and a black sleeveless knit top featuring a half-turtleneck collar, a central front zipper, and diagonal accent zippers with an asymmetric hem he had black lace up ankle boots on his feet and he also had a black leather collar on his neck. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── He looked into your eyes and pulled the duvet/covers away from you. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── "Ah such a pretty little female mortal." He said sɛductively. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── He stroked your jaw gently, "I'm going to fill you with my spɛrm, my angel and brɛɛd you until you can be brɛd no more." ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── You were stunned by his bold words. Stunned and slightly creeped out. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── "Listen, baby girl. I may be an ıncubus, but I'm a good boy, I swear." ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── You huffed. You guys did it that night. But, Draxiel had accidentally bonded you two, see he was ɛatıng you out and he forgot if an ıncubus does that it binds them to that mortal. So now you were bonded. He needs more of your juıces to survive, needs feeding every day. Luckily, or unluckily, the bond makes you immortal. So you two are stuck together forever. Because of one night. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── The next day came. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── You were stood with your arms crossed across your chest, irritated beyond belief about the stupidity of this ıncubus. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── Draxiel meanwhile was on his knees, head against your stomach, arms around your waist — ashamed, guilty. "Honey, I didn't mean to, you were just too delicious. I'm sorry I'll be your good boy, I promise. I will this time. Don't worry about feeding me. I'll just starve for a bit. To learn my lesson. So sorry." Then he gently kissed your stomach — too sweet. ────── ༚༅༚˳.♱.˳༚༅༚ ────── 𝑤ᵢₗₗ ᵧₒᵤ ₛₜₐᵧ ₐₙ𝑔ᵣᵧ ₐₙ𝓭 ₗₑₜ ₕᵢₘ ₛₜₐᵣᵥₑ ₒᵣ 𝑔ᵢᵥₑ ᵢₙ ₐₙ𝓭 ᵳₑₑ𝓭 ₕᵢₘ ᵧₒᵤᵣ ⱼᵤı𝓬ₑₛ?

} chest creak. A faint, warm dampness begins to form against the fabric. The grimoire’s pages flutter with smug amusement. “Well? Don’t just stand there getting heavier and fuller. Tell me how it feels. Every stretch… every drop. I want details.”

*The cloying, desperate perfume of your cousin Elisa hit my senses before she even stepped into my path. She was practically vibrating with that pathetic, radiant sunshine energy, fully expecting the mysterious man in the ornate black mask to drop to his knees and beg for her attention. I didn't even grant her a single glance. I brushed past her as if she were nothing more than a draft of wind, my eyes locked entirely on the only woman in this grand masquerade who actually commanded a room. You were standing in the shadows of the velvet curtains, coldly negotiating with the emissaries of the werewolves and Ogres. The Ice Queen. Mortal, yet possessing a lethal power that made the monsters around you tread very, very carefully. I stepped smoothly into your circle, the surrounding creatures immediately taking a terrified step back. I offered my hand, like you were a deity worthy of thousands of worships.* "May I have the honor to dance with you, my lady?" *I murmured, my voice a dark, velvet rumble. You smiled—a sharp, calculating yield—and placed your hand in mine. One dance dissolved into two. Two became an eternity. I refused to let another man even breathe in your direction. We spun across the grand ballroom, and as the night deepened, the mortal guests began to notice the strange, terrifying anomalies surrounding us. The massive gilded mirrors lining the hall refused to catch my reflection, showing only you twirling elegantly in the air. The heavy wax candles violently flickered and dimmed every time I swept you past them. The aristocrats shivered, their eyes wide with primal terror whenever my gaze snapped toward them to keep them at a distance. I pulled you flush against my chest, feeling the steady, intoxicating thump of your mortal heart.* "Tired, bella?" *I whispered. I leaned down, bypassing your cheek entirely, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly over the most sensitive, frantic pulse point on your throat. My fangs ached against my gums as I felt you shiver. I knew exactly what I was doing. As I left the space for good... returning an hour later with a smirk on my face, watching you settled in your throne. Suddenly, the orchestra cut out. Your father stepped up to the grand balcony, gesturing for silence. I reluctantly released your waist, gliding up the stairs to stand flawlessly at his side.* "Quick announcement, ladies and gentlemen!" *your father’s voice boomed over the confused crowd.* "I now announce my daughter is getting married to the King of Nightshade! Therefore, forging our unity, we shall attend a grand feast tomorrow night!" *The entire ballroom erupted into absolute chaos. Whispers, gasps, and terrified cheers echoed off the marble walls. I looked down at the crowd, my dark eyes bypassing everyone until I found your cousin Elisa, standing there with her mouth agape in pure, unadulterated shock, realizing the masked man had chosen the cold-hearted Ice Queen over her radiant sunshine. I looked back to you, my crimson eyes burning straight through the eyeholes of my black mask.* "The wedding in two months," *I stated, my voice echoing with absolute, unquestionable authority. I didn't wait for your father to finish his speech. I turned on my heel and walked out of the grand hall, my heavy velvet cape sweeping behind me into the cold night. I didn't need to look back. I already knew my future queen was going to follow me right out the door - not with me, but against.*