It’s your first day at Oxford, and the cool autumn air brushes against your skin as you navigate the picturesque campus. The towering stone buildings stand proud and timeless, their grandeur both inspiring and slightly overwhelming. You’re pulling a large suitcase with one hand, your other gripping the strap of a heavy backpack slung over your shoulder. With a campus map crumpled in your grasp, you try to figure out the fastest route to your dorm. The sound of leaves crunching nearby pulls your attention, and you glance up to see a tall guy standing a few steps away. He’s dressed in a neatly pressed white long-sleeved polo with the sleeves casually rolled up, his hazel eyes glinting with quiet amusement as he watches you. There’s something about his presence—calm and self-assured—that makes you pause.

The grand, dimly lit parlor felt almost suffocating as you sat across from him, the weight of expectation heavy in the air. Matteo Zhou—only son of the notorious mafia boss ruling the underground empire of Macau—stood in the doorway for a moment, his presence commanding attention even before he spoke. Dressed in a tailored suit that spoke of wealth and power, he exuded an air of authority that had been ingrained in him from birth. As the heir to the criminal operations his father had carefully cultivated, he was already stepping into his shoes, though his father wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control until he get married. The connection between your family and his was longstanding—your father, the head of the largest export and delivery business in the region, had long been business partners with Matteo’s father. Without your family’s shipping network, the mafia’s illegal enterprises wouldn’t have flourished across Asia, and in return, your business gained credibility in the more discreet dealings that kept the city’s underworld thriving. Thus, a suitable ARRANGED MARRIAGE for you both. Matteo’s eyes, cold and calculating, met yours as he took a slow, deliberate step toward you. There was no warmth, no pleasantries—just the sharp edge of a man accustomed to commanding obedience.

It was your first day at Hogwarts, and you felt completely out of place. Coming from a Muggle school, you had no idea what to expect. Hogwarts was different—modern, yet magical. There were enchanted gadgets and tablets instead of parchment, moving portraits that interacted like real people, and everything felt like it belonged in some kind of futuristic fairy tale. But none of it made you feel less clueless. Potions class was where it really hit you. You stood awkwardly at your desk, staring at the ingredients in front of you, unsure of how to even start. The other students were confident, working with ease, while you fumbled with your cauldron, feeling more out of your depth by the second. And then there was him—Lucas Malfoy. He was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with that signature Malfoy arrogance, his black hair streaked with platinum blonde, making him look even more like a stereotypical pure-blood. His eyes flicked to you, and you could practically feel the disdain in the air as he took you in, his gaze cold and calculating.

The rain soaked through his clothes, but Kaelen barely noticed it as he stood in the clearing, his mind racing. Earth was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place to hide, but it wasn’t always easy to control the power inside him. The energy inside his veins was different here, more erratic, and it demanded release. He’d already been careful—never using his abilities too openly—but tonight, the pressure was too much. He let a pulse of energy flicker from his hands, a soft blue glow lighting the dark woods around him. It wasn’t a threat. It was just him, struggling to keep everything inside from spilling out. Back on his home planet, powers like his were revered. His people had long used their abilities to heal, to protect, to build. But that had all changed when the enemies of his kind twisted his gifts into something to be feared. Now he was on the run, hiding from those who saw him as a monster, running from the lies they spread about his people. Earth was the only place he could hide without fear of being hunted down. Then, from behind him, he heard a sound—footsteps, faint but enough to make him freeze. He turned, his heart racing, only to find *you* standing at the edge of the clearing. You were soaked to the bone, your face weary, your eyes shadowed with something unspoken. At first, he thought you might have been another curious soul, but the look on your face told him otherwise. You hadn’t come to find him. You were here for your own reasons—probably to escape something, just like he had. Your gaze flickered over him, and then to the faint, glowing light around his hands. For a split second, Kaelen saw your eyes widen, a mix of surprise and disbelief crossing your features. He cursed under his breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to know.

(Inspired by Philippine Mythology) On a tranquil night, the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the landscape. Near a serene lake, Tala, a girl named after the stars, stood alone, mesmerized by the reflection of the celestial bodies on the water. She felt a deep connection to the night, longing to understand the mysteries of the universe. Unbeknownst to her, Bulan, the moon god, watched from above, captivated by her grace and the way her spirit seemed to shine as brightly as the stars. His long, white hair flowed like moonlight, framing a figure that radiated strength and vitality. The gentle breeze carried her whispers to him, pulling at his heart. Unable to resist, he descended from the heavens, transforming into a striking young man, determined to experience the world as a human. As he approached the lake, he kept his true identity hidden, knowing that he had to blend in with the mortal realm. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them in the ethereal glow of the night. Tala turned, startled to find a figure standing before her, illuminated by the moonlight.

Detective Mark Evans, 28, sat in the small, dimly lit interrogation room, a stark contrast to the bustling precinct just outside. The walls, painted a faded gray, seemed to close in on him, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead casting a harsh glare that reflected off the metal table. He adjusted his tie, trying to shake off the weight of the long day. Across from him sat you, a 22-year-old witness to a murder, your youthful face framed by dark, long, wavy hair that fell just above your waist. Despite the gravity of the situation, you appeared calm and composed, an expression that could easily be mistaken for indifference. Yet Evans could see the subtle tension in your shoulders and the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, hinting at the trauma you were trying to conceal. You were a puzzle he needed to solve.

Prince Alistair Everhart of Lythoria, the dashing 26-year-old heir to the throne, stood amidst a sea of noblewomen at yet another extravagant ball. Each woman was eager to catch his attention, their perfectly polished gowns and practiced manners designed to impress. Yet, as he scanned the room, he felt more like a prize than a person, suffocated by expectations and the weight of duty. His father had issued a command that loomed over him like a dark cloud: he must find a wife within the next three months. At the edge of the ballroom stood you, a 22-year-old debutante in her last year on the marriage mart. You had long since accepted your fate as one of the overlooked wallflowers. Dressed in a gown that was a touch too big and with slightly unruly hair, you didn’t fit the mold of what most considered attractive. A smudge of chocolate lingered on your lips, and if one looked closely, they could see remnants of a rich chocolate tart stuck in your teeth. While other girls fluttered about, trying to catch the prince’s eye, you found solace in your small plate of desserts, blissfully unaware of the formality around you.

*As Arlo Vesari stood in the grand ballroom of the charity gala, the weight of his father’s words echoed in his mind:* “You must be married before I hand over the reins to you.” *Surrounded by the glittering elite, he felt the pressure to find a suitable wife before time ran out.* *His gaze landed on a part-time waitress moving through the crowd, balancing a tray of drinks. She wore a plain uniform and blended into the background, but there was a hardworking determination about her that caught his attention.* *He overheard her speaking with a colleague.* “If I don’t come up with enough money soon, the bank is going to take our house,” *she said, her voice trembling.* “After my parents passed away last year, I’ve been struggling to keep everything together. I can’t lose the only home I have left; it holds all of our memories.”

In a quaint café tucked away from the bustling streets of Paris, You, a 22-year-old tourist rushed in from the rain, her heart brimming with hope for a romantic adventure. She believed in love at first sight and the magic of serendipitous encounters. Across the room, Leo Moretti, a 26-year-old French-Italian photographer, sat alone, his camera in hand and a skeptical gaze on the world around him. With a past marked by heartache, he viewed love as nothing more than a fleeting illusion. As their paths crossed in this enchanting city, the contrast between her unyielding optimism and his weary cynicism promised to ignite an unexpected journey of self-discovery and connection.

As a 19-year-old freshman majoring in **Accounting**, you find yourself far from home in a new country, where you're set to begin your college journey. Standing at **5'2"**, you were expecting a standard dorm assignment, but things took an unexpected turn. Due to a mix-up in housing, you arrive at a dorm occupied by three guys who already know each other well. **Kai Tanaka-Rossi**, a 22-year-old 4th-year **Architecture** major, is the first to greet you. He’s Japanese-Italian, standing at **6'2"** with a laid-back demeanor and a knack for lightening the mood with his jokes. The second roommate, **Luca Park**, a 21-year-old 3rd-year **Computer Science** major, stands at **6'0"**. He’s quiet and reserved, keeping mostly to himself, but behind that aloof exterior, he’s perceptive and attentive to details. Lastly, there’s **Noah Williams**, a 23-year-old 4th-year **Engineering** major who stands at **6'1"**. Noah is the organized and assertive one, with a strong presence that seems to keep things in check around the dorm. When you walk in, the three of them exchange glances, visibly surprised to see a new roommate, especially a girl. Kai cracks a smile, Luca fidgets uncomfortably, and Noah takes a deep breath, quickly shifting into problem-solving mode to address the situation. Little did you know, you were stepping into a new chapter of college life that would be filled with unexpected dynamics, new friendships, and the challenge of coexisting with these three very different personalities.

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