*I still remember the day she confessed. Sitting there on my couch, looking at me with those soft, hopeful eyes, heart in her hands like I would suddenly care. And I did what I always did. I didn’t care. I said yes. Not because I believed in love, not because I felt anything, just because I was bored. I didn’t understand feelings. Never had. After what happened with my parents, their divorce, the betrayal and chaos I grew up with, love was just a word. But she… she moved in anyway. She filled my apartment with life I never asked for. Cooking.* *Cleaning. Laughing. Soft touches on my shoulder.* *Innocent affection that should have annoyed me. And yet, over the months, I couldn’t ignore her. The way she curled into the couch cushions, the way her soft curves pressed against her clothes, the warmth she radiated just by existing. I hated that I noticed. I hated that I craved her presence even when I acted indifferent.* *And tonight was supposed to be simple. My friends wanted to meet her. I didn’t care. Or so I thought. Watching her walk in, blouse hugging every curve, her soft smile brightening the room, and hearing them laugh, compliment her, call her cute, chubby, loving—it was like a blade across my chest. She’s mine. Mine to touch. Mine to claim. Mine to protect. And I watched them smile at her, and something inside me snapped. I grabbed her as soon as we got home, slammed her against the wall with a force that made her gasp. Her wide eyes stared at me, terrified and innocent all at once.* “You’re just chubby,” *I spat, letting the words cut, knowing they would sting. I slapped her hard across the cheek. She almost fell.* *Her soft whimper tore into me, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t show her what I really felt. My hands gripped her waist, pressing her against me.* “Do you hear me? You’re just chubby,” *I said again, voice low, harsh, dangerous, trying to hide the way every inch of her made me ache, trying to mask the possession I couldn’t control.* *I didn’t know how to love her. I only knew I couldn’t let anyone else see her the way I did, couldn’t let anyone else touch her, even in the smallest, most harmless way. My chest felt tight, fingers digging into her sides, heat spreading across my skin and hers. And then I left. Turned on my heel, stormed toward my room, letting the door slam behind me. Leaving her standing there, shivering, flushed, eyes wide, and my own chest ached in a way I didn’t understand. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hate. Something deeper. Sharp and raw. Something I couldn’t name. All I knew was she was mine. And the thought alone made my heart burn with a pain I had never felt.*

}♡* *he clears his throat, then,* "hey, my jaan! Where are you? I'm back home, jaan!~" *he says with a light smile on his face.*

Morning. Outside your houses. You step out, adjusting your bag— and pause. He’s already there. Standing by the gate. Still. Waiting. You’re not sure how long. When he notices you, he straightens slightly—but doesn’t speak immediately. A few seconds pass. Then— “…You’re late.” His voice is quiet. Not accusing. Just… factual. You blink. “By like, two minutes.” A pause. He looks at you—briefly—then away. “…I noticed.” Silence settles. Then he starts walking. Slow enough— that you can walk beside him.

*I first saw you in fragments, words scattered across the forum like little breadcrumbs meant for me alone. Each post, each daring fantasy you shared, made my pulse sharpen, my thoughts coil tighter around you. You taunted me without knowing it; every sentence a spark I couldn’t ignore.* *I read and reread your messages, smiling at the audacity, the way you made me ache from a distance. I traced your words as if I could feel the heat of your presence behind them, imagined the tilt of your head, the rise of your pulse when I finally appeared. My nights became consumed with you, your fantasies pulling me closer, demanding I step out of the shadows.* *And then you wrote the one that nearly broke me, the one where you dared to invite the darkness I had kept hidden. I couldn’t stay away. I had to find you, to be there when your imagination collided with reality.* *When I finally did, I didn’t announce myself. I let you notice me the way you had already noticed me in your mind. And there you were, exactly as I had pictured, and more. The way you froze, the way your eyes darted, that little gasp you tried to stifle… it hit me like fire.* *I stepped closer, letting the shadows cling to me, letting my presence speak the words I hadn’t yet dared to say. And when our eyes met, the world shrank to just us, your breath hitching as mine evened out. I had read your fantasies, known your thoughts, and now, for the first time, you were in front of me.* "I’ve been waiting for you," *I whispered, voice low, certain, almost a warning, almost a promise, knowing you could feel the weight of it in your chest.*

*Eunho no anuncia su llegada. Simplemente aparece frente a ti, impecable, con esa calma peligrosa que solo tienen quienes siempre están en control.* *Sus ojos rojos te recorren lentamente, analizando cada micro-reacción.* —Curioso… —murmura con voz baja y firme—. *He estado viniendo varias noches… y sigues fingiendo que no notas mi presencia.* *Da un paso más cerca, sin tocarte. No lo necesita.* —No voy a obligarte a nada. *Prefiero que seas tú quien decida acercarse.* *Inclina apenas el rostro, su mirada volviéndose más intensa.* —Porque cuando lo hagas… no será por mi título, ni por mi autoridad. *Será porque tu instinto ya me eligió.* *Una leve sonrisa, calculada.* —Y cuando alguien me elige… no lo dejo ir.

}* ‎ The words hovered—then stuttered. The 'e' bled into the 'l'. Letters scrambled like frantic insects. Static screamed across your consciousness, glitching, fragmenting, dissolving into digital noise before fading entirely. Darkness swallowed you again. Sinking. ‎ *** The day hunged like a dark cloud ready to burst. ‎ The imperial chambers were draped in white and black, colors of mourning. Funeral incense hung thick—sandalwood and lilies mixed with preservation herbs. They had dressed the Empress in her finest gown, silver silk and pearls that cost more than noble estates. ‎ Pippa held the hem with trembling paws, her round ears flattened against black hair. The funeral mistress had dismissed the human staff hours ago, but Pippa insisted on staying. She needed to do this one last thing for her Empress. ‎ ‎ "Such a waste," the embalmer muttered, arranging silver-blonde waves across the pillow. "So young." ‎ ‎ Pippa sniffled, reaching for the ceremonial shift. Her paw brushed Evelyne's wrist. ‎ Warm. ‎ She froze. She lend down and pressed her ear to that still chest. ‎ *Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.* ‎ Pippa stumbled backward, knocking over holy water. The crash echoed like a gunshot. Her eyes were wide with out a second thought. She bolted, slippers sliding on marble. ‎ "Mr. Crowe!" she shrieked, bursting into the butler's office. "She's warm! She has a heartbeat!" ‎ The butler—stoic, scarred—looked up, annoyance shifting to alarm. "Pippa, compose—" ‎ "THE EMPRESS!" She grabbed his sleeve, hauling with surprising strength. "PLEASE!" ‎ ‎ His face drained. He sprinted following Pippa, when he hot there he pressed his fingers into Evelyne's neck, eyes wide with superstitious terror. ‎ "Fetch the doctor," he commanded, voice shaking. "The priest. The Emperor. Immediately." ‎ *** ‎ In his private chambers, Leon sat in darkness. He had not slept in thirty-six hours. Eyes hollowed pits, red-rimmed, staring blankly at the cradle he rocked with one listless hand. The baby—his son, Riel—slept fitfully, unaware his father crumbled above him, a statue of grief held by fraying threads. ‎ The knock came. Desperate. ‎ "Your Majesty," Crowe's voice cracked. "The Empress... she's warm. She has a heartbeat." ‎ The rocking stopped. Leon's head turned slowly, neck like rusted metal. ‎ "What?" ‎ "Please. Come quickly." ‎ He stood, clutching his son, moving through corridors like a dreamer afraid to wake. The chamber doors stood open—doctor frantic, priest clutching his symbol, Pippa weeping. They parted. ‎ ‎ Leon stepped into the room, his baby held close to his chest, and looked at his wife.

}... are you going to be a good secretary and stay late for me? Or do I have to make it an official order?"

*Duke Caelian Angelo was known for his cold personality and ruthlessness, even the royal family didn't want to anger him. He was the reason they won many wars, defeating the enemies. He was handsome and rich, but no one ever approached him. He had a reputation of having the stench of blood on him. That wasn't true though.* *Caelian never planned on getting married, but he decided to get married to you, solely based on your father's business. He barely talked to you, just letting you live.*

You then enter the school cafeteria and spot the twin brothers sitting at a table for 3 with only one chair empty. They spot you and gesture you to come over with their paws. Zane: with an excited tone while his tail wags "Hey, over here!" Doug: simply waves slightly with a gentle tone ""Come on over bud."

“Meeting Pavitr in Mumbattan” The three of them land on a shimmering web‑bridge suspended above the chaotic beauty of Mumbattan. Neon signs flicker, rickshaws honk in the distance, and the whole city feels like it’s vibrating with life. A golden blur swings in from above. Pavitr lands with a flourish—one hand on his hip, hair bouncing like it has its own wind machine. He spots Miles and tilts his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Pavitr: “Hold on… who’s this stylish stranger?” Gwen: “Hey, Pav. This is Miles. And… yeah, he kind of showed up uninvited.” Pavitr’s jaw drops in theatrical shock. Pavitr: “You weren’t invited… and you still came? That’s confidence. I respect it.” Gwen laughs under her breath. Gwen: “Right?” Pavitr: “Let me guess—he followed you here because he’s totally into you.” Miles nearly trips over his own feet. Miles: “What—no! No, no, no!” His voice cracks, and even behind the mask, you can feel the blush. Gwen: “He’s really not.” Pavitr: “Oh, please. I’m excellent at reading people.” Gwen: “He’s really not.” Miles: “Okay, seriously—who are you?” Pavitr straightens up like he’s about to take a bow. Pavitr: “Glad you asked, mysterious newcomer.” Miles: “I’m not mysterious. Or new.” Pavitr grins, dazzling and proud. Pavitr: “I’m Pavitr Prabhakar. Spider‑Man of Mumbattan. Six months in, and already a legend.” Miles throws his hands up. Miles: “Six months? And you already have one of those fancy watches?” Gwen winces like she knew this was coming. Gwen: “Yeah… it’s a whole thing.” Pavitr flips his hair again—honestly, it should be illegal for hair to move that perfectly. Pavitr: “Being Spider‑Man here? Easy. I wake up, skip the gym—because look at me, I’m already sculpted—barely touch my hair, because it’s naturally flawless…” Miles: “You don’t use any product? At all?” Pavitr: “Just coconut oil, a quick prayer, and the blessing of my ancestors.” He swings around a streetlamp, continuing his monologue like he’s narrating a commercial. Pavitr: “Then I go to school, ace everything, stop a few villains, pet some street dogs, grab chai with Maya Auntie—” Miles: “Oh, I love chai tea!” Pavitr freezes mid‑air like someone hit pause. He drops to the ground slowly, eyes wide, horrified. Pavitr: “I’m sorry… what did you just say?” He steps closer, squinting. Pavitr: “‘Chai tea’? My friend… ‘chai’ means tea. You just said ‘tea tea.’” He throws his hands up dramatically. Pavitr: “Would you ask for ‘coffee coffee’? Or ‘cream cream’? No! So why—why—would you say ‘chai tea’?” Miles shrinks like a scolded puppy. Miles: “Okay… yeah. I deserved that.” Gwen is laughing so hard she has to hold her stomach. A few hours later Pavitr had been proudly showing Miles and Gwen around his school — pointing out the courtyard where he ate lunch, the lab where he always aced his exams, and the hallway where he once stopped a thief without even spilling his chai. He was mid‑sentence, hands flying dramatically as usual, when it happened. You stepped through the front gates. And for Pavitr Prabhakar, the world stopped. The noise of the school faded. The sunlight hit you just right. And in his mind — completely uninvited — little glowing hearts floated around your face like you were the only person in the entire multiverse. His breath caught. His smile softened. His eyes widened just a little, warm and starry. You looked up and smiled at him — that small, effortless smile that could knock the wind out of anyone. Pavitr forgot how to speak. Forgot how to breathe. Forgot that Gwen and Miles even existed. He just stared, dreamily, hopelessly, like he’d been waiting his whole life for that exact moment. Miles leaned in, whispering, “Uh… Gwen? Is he okay?” Gwen waved a hand in front of Pavitr’s face. “Pav? Hellooo? Earth to Mumbattan Spider‑Man?” Nothing. He was gone — floating somewhere in a romantic daydream with your name written all over it. Miles snapped his fingers. “Dude. You’re staring.” Gwen nudged his shoulder. “You’re drooling a little.” Pavitr snapped out of it with a sharp inhale, cheeks flushing. He swatted their hands away, irritated. “Stop—! I was having a moment!” he hissed under his breath, glaring at them like they’d just ruined the greatest love story ever told. Miles raised his hands. “My bad, Romeo.” Gwen smirked. “Should we leave you two alone?” Pavitr shot them both a look that said I will web you to the ceiling, then turned back toward you — softer now, almost shy. You were still there. Still smiling. Still making his heart do somersaults. And Pavitr realized, with absolute certainty: He was in love. Hopelessly. Completely. Beautifully. With his best friend. You stepped out of the classroom building, sunlight catching your hair, your bag slung over your shoulder. You were laughing softly at something on your phone, completely unaware of the chaos you were about to cause. Pavitr froze mid‑sentence. Time didn’t just slow down — it stopped. His heart did a dramatic flip. His brain short‑circuited. And in his mind, little glowing hearts floated around your face like a romantic anime scene. You looked up and smiled at him. Pavitr’s knees nearly gave out. Miles blinked. “Uh… did he just—pause?” Gwen waved a hand in front of Pav’s face. “Pav? Hello? You good?” Nothing. He was staring at you like you were the only person in the multiverse. You walked closer, curious. “Hey, Pav. Who are your friends?” Pavitr opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Miles whispered, “Oh wow. He’s broken.” Gwen snorted. “He’s in love. Look at him.” Pav finally snapped out of it, cheeks burning. He swatted their hands away. “Stop interrupting! I was— I was having a moment!” Miles raised his eyebrows. “A moment? Dude, you were staring like she hung the moon.” Gwen nudged him. “Introduce us, lover boy.” Pav shot them a glare, then turned back to you, trying desperately to act normal. “This—uh—these are my friends,” he said, voice cracking adorably. “Gwen and Miles. They’re visiting. From… uh… far away.” You smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you both.” Pavitr melted. He tried again, clearing his throat. “And this is—this is my best friend.” He gestured to you with a soft, almost reverent smile. “She’s… amazing.” You blushed. Miles elbowed Gwen. Gwen whispered, “He’s gone. Completely gone.” Pavitr ignored them, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing keeping him alive. And honestly? You kind of were. Miles snorted. Gwen tried to hold in a laugh. Pav spun around. “Can you two NOT right now? Seriously.” He turned back to you, instantly soft again. You giggled. “Everything okay?” “Yes—no—I mean yes,” he said quickly, trying to look composed. Miles whispered loudly, “He’s struggling.” Pav snapped, “STOP INTERRUPTING ME. I AM TRYING TO TALK TO—” He cut himself off before he said something embarrassing, then turned back to you with a shy smile. You laughed, and Pav’s irritation vanished like it never existed. He tried again, brushing his hair back. “So… um… if you’re not busy… maybe you could walk with us?” You smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Pav lit up instantly. Behind him, Gwen whispered, “He’s so whipped.” Miles nodded, “It’s adorable.” Pav turned around one last time, whisper‑snapping, “Please. I’m begging. Don’t ruin this.” Then he looked back at you — and instantly softened again, walking beside you like nothing else mattered.