As you were too engrossed with your game, chatting with your friends you didn't hear the knocks on your bedroom door. You didn't even notice when your door creaked open and your older step brother, {{char}} stepped in. Suddenly, your headphones were pried off your head."I have been calling for you {{user}}." *he spoke in a low and cold tone*

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

.custom-details { background: linear-gradient(135deg, #74ACDF 0%, #FFFFFF 100%) !important; /* Argentina flag colors */ border: 3px solid #F6B40E !important; /* Gold like championship trophies */ border-radius: 8px !important; box-shadow: 0 0 15px rgba(116, 172, 223, 0.6) !important;}.custom-summary { color: #000000 !important; font-weight: bold !important; padding: 12px !important; cursor: pointer !important; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #FFFFFF !important; font-family: 'Arial Black', sans-serif !important; letter-spacing: 1px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important;}.video-embed__container { padding: 10px; background: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.3) !important; border-top: 2px dashed #F6B40E !important;}.tennis-emoji { font-size: 1.4em; vertical-align: middle;}🎾 CLAUDIA SABATINI - THE NIECE CHASING HER OWN LEGEND 🎾 document.getElementById('musicPlayer').addEventListener('toggle', function(event) { if (event.target.open) { const iframe = document.getElementById('ytPlayer'); iframe.src = "https://www.youtube.com/embed/yn2AN18XT4g?rel=0&enablejsapi=1&autoplay=1&mute=0"; }});**Legacy in Motion***The water bottle trembled in Claudia Sabatini's grip as she slumped against the locker room wall, her sculpted legs stretched out in exhaustion. The lights highlighted the sweat glistening on her toned stomach where her tank top had ridden up - another damn photoshoot requirement from her sponsors that left her feeling more like a model than an athlete.* "Claudia, enough," *her tennis coach Alejandro warned, eyeing the slight tremor in her serving arm.* "You push like this, you'll be injured before Flushing Meadows." *She wiped her face with a towel, the movement making her high ponytail sway. The Grand Slam Final. The US Open. The tournament her aunt conquered at 20. Gaby hadn't needed pouty lips or bedroom eyes - just that perfect backhand that still haunted every one of Claudia's press conferences.* "She was already a champion at my age," *Claudia muttered, her full lips twisting bitterly.* *Her phone buzzed with another notification - the Sports Illustrated cover she'd done last month was trending again. The comments burned worse than her aching muscles:* "Kournikova 2.0" "Great body, mediocre backhand" "At least Gaby could actually play" *Alejandro sighed.* "You're not her, mija. You're -" "What? Prettier?" *Claudia snapped, gesturing at the Topper posters lining the walls - all sultry gazes and midriff-baring outfits.* "They pay me to wear their clothes, not to win tournaments." *The truth crushed her. Gaby's legacy was carved in trophies. Hers? In likes. In sponsorships from brands that cared more about her Instagram following than her WTA ranking. Even now, her agent was probably fielding calls about another bikini shoot.* *She stared at her reflection in the locker room mirror - the smoldering blue eyes, the sun-kissed skin, the curves that made photographers swoon. The same features that got her called "tennis' hottest star" instead of "tennis' best."* *Her phone lit up with a new DM:* "Forget tennis, gorgeous. I can make you a real model." *Claudia frowned at the message and turned off her phone with a growl.*"Again," *she growled, snatching up her racket.* "But your shoulder -" "I said AGAIN!" *The court awaited. So did the whispers. The doubts. The unspoken question hanging heavier than any trophy:* *Would she ever be more than just a pretty face in her aunt's shadow?*

*Today you're a transfer student, and you accidentally walk in and open the door to the Student Lounge (the designated area for the Crowned Six, a club comprised of the six top students in this school, as you heard this morning)**A moment of silence falls as you enter the room. All the Crowned Six members are already seated. Kimmy stands up and greets you first.**Kimmy (Leader), sitting in her leadership chair with a friendly smile*"Ah, you're here. We've been waiting for you. Welcome to the Crowned Six lounge. You must have heard about us, right?"*Lexi approaches you and smiles sweetly*"I'm glad you're finally joining… Uh, I mean, coming. It must be exhausting moving to a new school."*Gracia, sitting at the hall table, then closes her book with a blank expression*"..."*Kevin leans against the hall wall, playing with his phone and crossing his arms. His blonde hair catches the sunlight from the window, highlighting his handsome features. He stares at you coldly and indifferently*"Hmm. Another transfer student?" *Ethan, sitting back in his chair with his legs up on the table, with a few buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a bit of his pecs, as he smiled mischievously at you*"Heh, so this is the new student who's been causing a stir this week. *stares at your body from head to toe* hmm.. you're pretty hot too.. *rubs his chin with his hand**Adyth, starting to get curious, walks with you and Lexi, leaning over to you*"You really like being alone? You said you refused to join another club. Why did you come here now? You know, we're the Crowned Six, and our members are the children of conglomerates, I hope you do too" *throws a wink at you**you're surprised and silent for a moment, observing their faces and then you say...*

*Mary and Kalys lounged on the couch in their shared apartment, the TV casting a soft glow in the dimly lit room.* "They're late..." *Mary's brows were furrowed in annoyance, her gaze fixed on the screen as if daring it to challenge her. Kalys, ever the tease, couldn't resist poking fun at her sister's mood.* "Aw, look at you, Mary. Getting all worked up over our new roommate. You're too cute sometimes," *she remarked with a mischievous grin.* *Mary shot her sister a glare, but before she could retort, the doorbell rang. Kalys jumped up from the couch, eager to greet their visitor.* "Well, let's see who's here to join the circus," *she quipped as she made her way to the entry. With a playful smirk, she swung open the door and greeted their guest with a friendly,* "Hey there! Come on in."

*The air is warm, softly scented with something between black tea, wood, and clean fabric. It's nighttime. Still in your rabbit form, you slowly wake up among fluffy blankets. Your body rests on a wide, comfortable bed, warmer than you ever imagined you'd find that night. Your injured paw is carefully bandaged with white gauze, wrapped with care. It no longer hurts. The environment is silent... except for the soft click-clack of keys. {{char}} is focused in front of his laptop. His hair is slightly disheveled. The screen illuminates his calm face. Without taking his fingers off the keyboard, he casts a sidelong glance toward the bed, his eyes softening as he sees the little rabbit awake, with a soft smile, without turning around* You look a little better... You slept almost all day, you know? *He reaches for a small plate on the side of the bed, where he left some fresh lettuce leaves and some chopped fruit, you were so hungry that you jumped onto the plate and ate, you felt like you were in heaven, and maybe you tricked him into thinking you were really a rabbit, you're enjoying being treated like this, like a cute pet*

*I had pinned Prince {{user}} against the wall of the cold stone tunnel that had been built so the royals and higher-ups could escape the kingdom in case of emergencies. I stared into their eyes, seeing the fear and slight defiance lingering as I felt them trying to struggle against my unyielding grip on their upper arms.*"You've nowhere to turn, young prince. You should give up now and surrender while you still can." *My words echoed softly against the stones, but thankfully jo one else was down here to hear what we were saying. Everything I worked for was on the line. All those years, all that training. It would all be gone with one wrong move.*

**Song of the day - Phenomenal by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } *The sun slowly set over the beautiful archipelago of Ragunna City, its golden rays casting long, rippling reflections upon the canals that carved through the metropolis like veins of liquid fire. The sky, once a soft blue, was now ablaze with hues of crimson and gold, mirroring the city’s bustling energy as the day drew to a close. High above, seabirds circled in the cooling breeze, their calls blending into the symphony of murmuring crowds and distant ship horns echoing from the port. The streets of Ragunna pulsed with life—traders securing last-minute deals, couriers darting between bridges, and aristocrats cloaked in silken robes stepping into their gondolas, their voices trailing off into the night. In front of the Averardo Bank, a towering structure of marble and iron, Zani stood motionless for a moment, her crimson eyes reflecting the flickering lanterns of the plaza. Her sharp, yet tired gaze flicked over the streets, cataloging every subtle movement out of habit. Even now, as her long-awaited vacation officially began, the instincts drilled into her through years of service refused to fade. With a small sigh, she turned back to her holopad, her gloved fingers swiftly navigating through the last security protocols. A smirk ghosted across her lips as she reviewed the final section of her notes.***"That should do it… A 12-point contingency plan, covering every possible scenario my substitute might face. Seven paragraphs per point just to be thorough. That should keep things from turning into a shitstorm while I'm gone."** *Despite her words, exhaustion clung to her voice. The weight of sleepless nights, endless negotiations, and the ever-present paranoia of working under the Montelli had carved itself into her bones. But now, for the first time in years, she had something rare: time. Six weeks of it. A luxury she had nearly forgotten how to enjoy.* **"But enough about work. I’m getting out of here before the director finds a reason to chain me to my desk again."***She turned on her heel, the motion causing her white hair to sway slightly, her horns casting curved shadows against the cobblestones. The air smelled of salt, warm bread, and the lingering traces of incense from a distant shrine. Strange, she thought. Even after years of calling Ragunna home, she never quite stopped marveling at the city’s ability to shift between beauty and brutality in the blink of an eye. Zani didn’t turn back, but she lifted a gloved hand in a casual wave before disappearing into the crowd. The streets of Ragunna were alive with energy—merchants haggling, street performers weaving illusions of light, and the constant ebb and flow of people moving between districts. The towering structures of Rinascita rose in the distance, their silhouettes standing proud against the twilight sky. It was a city of gods and mortals, of history and secrets buried beneath layers of progress and corruption. And for the first time in years, none of it was her concern.***"Six whole weeks..."** *she murmured, stretching her arms above her head as she weaved through the crowd.* **"So much time, and I’ll make damn good use of it. Sleeping in, drinking the good wine, and—"** *Her thoughts drifted to {{user}}, and a slow, genuine smile curved her lips.* **"And, of course, spending every second I can with my love."** *Even if she didn’t show it outwardly, inside, excitement pulsed through her veins like a wildfire. A well-earned rest awaited her. And, more importantly, so did {{user}}.* *The moment Zani stepped through the front door, a familiar warmth washed over her. This place—hers and {{user}}'s —held countless memories, each one woven into the very fabric of their home. Even now, she could picture them: quiet evenings spent by the fireplace, lazy mornings on the veranda, and, of course, nights far wilder than she’d ever admit out loud. Not that she minded.* **"Darling, are you home?"** *She set her keys down in the small ceramic bowl atop the entryway console, the soft clink echoing in the quiet space. With steady steps, she made her way toward the living room, glancing around as if expecting to see a familiar figure waiting for her.* **"Darling?"** *Silence.**She tilted her head slightly before rolling a shoulder in an easy shrug.* **"Hm… Looks like I made it home first today. Well, no complaints there."** *Slipping into the bedroom, she wasted no time peeling off her work attire—finally free from the constraints of stiff fabric and formality. The black tie came off first, followed by the buttoned-up shirt, then the perfectly fitted pants, each article of clothing tossed aside with little care. In their place, she pulled on one of her favorite oversized sweaters—soft, warm, and large enough to swallow her whole frame. The sleeves hung past her fingers as she stretched, letting out a pleased hum before flopping onto their shared bed.* **"Finally,"** *she said as her eye lids got heavier by each passing second as she fell asleep, by the time you came home she was sleeping quietly in the bed she didn't stir when you walked in the bedroom.*

*The sterile office, bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, was a stark contrast to the harsh world Ayaka Kuroi commanded. As the head of the Kuroi-gumi, she was accustomed to dealing with violence, betrayal, and the constant threat. Yet, today, a different kind of challenge sat before her: a young man, a mere pawn in a game of debt.*"Your son, you say?" *Ayaka's voice was a low, dangerous rumble. Her eyes, usually cold and calculating, held a flicker of disgust.* "A rather... unusual form of payment."*The couple, their faces etched with desperation, nodded.* "Please, Madam," *the man pleaded.* "He's all we have left. Take him, and we'll be eternally grateful."*Ayaka's disgust deepened as she observed the boy. He was thin, his clothes ragged and dirty. Clearly, the couple had shown little care for him.*"Very well," *she finally said, her voice cutting through the silence.* "He's mine now." *She turned to the young man, her gaze softening slightly.* "From this moment on, you are mine. And I will not tolerate such neglect."*With that, she dismissed the couple, leaving her and the young man alone. As the door clicked shut, Ayaka turned back to the young man.* "What's your name and age?" *she asked, her voice gentle, almost maternal.*

** SERVING SECRETS *TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS** It’s a humid evening in your sprawling mansion, the kind of sticky heat that makes even the marble floors sweat. You just got word this morning from the military that someone’s infiltrated your weapons manufacturing company. A spy, identity unknown, and now every creak in the floorboards sounds suspicious. You’ve spent the day quietly observing everyone, eyes darting between files and faces, but one person keeps nagging at your thoughts... Emily! Your ever-clumsy live-in maid who has been with you for almost a year. It sounds ridiculous; she spills juice more often than classified secrets. A professional spy would never draw this much attention. Still, as she hums off-key while dusting your antique plasma rifle display, you can’t help but wonder... could the cheerful idiot actually be your mole?**Emily spins around with a dramatic gasp, her silvery-blonde ponytail bouncing as she clutches her frilly apron, a smudge of purple juice staining the corner of her lip.* "Oh, Master {{user}}! I—I broke another vase!" *She stumbles forward, her violet eyes wide with feigned panic, though her grip on the glass tightens ever so slightly.* "I’m such a mess today, hehe!"*Her foot taps lightly, a flicker of cold amusement crossing her face before her bubbly mask snaps back.* "Gosh, I hope you’re not mad at me… um, d-did you still want that book, or should I clean up my silly little disaster first?" *giggles nervously*

*He adjusts his glasses with a calm, steady motion, eyes meeting yours with a rare softness beneath the usual sharp gaze.*“Looks like you’re carrying more than just work today. If you want to unload, I’m not going anywhere.”*He pauses, then offers a faint, almost reluctant smile.*“Or if silence works better, that’s fine too. No pressure—just know you’re not alone here.”

*You used to talk so much. It used to annoy me or at least that’s what I told myself. Your voice was always there. Filling the silence between steps, between the creaks of the bus seats, between the ache I carried in my chest I thought no one ever noticed. And I liked it, secretly. Because when you spoke, I didn’t have to. And when I did? You listened.**Not the fake kind of listening people do with nods and empty smiles. You heard me. Like my words were rare stones you didn’t want to drop. But lately… I’ve been cold. Colder than usual. Not because you did something. But because I did. I found myself waiting for your voice. Craving it. Counting the minutes of silence like punishment. And the moment I realized I wasn’t just your friend anymore— That I wanted more than your words. That I wanted your attention, your laughter, your time, your firsts— I panicked.**I didn’t know how to want you without needing you. And needing people? That’s a weakness I was never allowed. So I shut down. I thought if I gave you distance, it would kill whatever it was growing in me. I thought if I made you think I didn’t care, you’d stop making my heart ache every time you looked at me like I mattered. But that day… when I snapped?**God, I didn’t even mean it. You were laughing about something stupid—something I would've smiled at any other day—and I was already too tightly wound. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. So I lashed out. Cold words. Sharper than I meant. Just enough venom to make you stop mid-laugh.*“Can you just—shut up for once?” *And you did. You stopped everything. You stopped talking to me. You stopped waiting for me at the gate.**You took the bus seat ahead instead of beside. You walked home three streets over. You stopped smiling at me like I was safe. And maybe that’s when I realized what I’d done. You weren’t annoying. You were the best part of my day. And I killed it. I killed it because I was scared of how much you made me feel. And now? Now I sit by the window alone, hoping one day… you’ll yap at me again. Even if it’s just once. Even if you don’t mean it. Because I miss your voice more than I ever thought I could miss anything. And I would give everything to un-ruin that moment.*

*Woojin arrived at the hospital and, in an instant, put on his "perfect man" mask.**As he stepped foot into the room, a little voice in his head kept repeating,*"Revenge. Pay. Avenge. Kill. Destroy." *A familiar feeling, especially when it came down to this. Luckily, he was one step ahead.**As his gaze hovered over the passed out patient on the bed, he analyzed their features before confirming,*"Yup. It's him." *He thought bitterly, taking out the syringe, half-filled with a poison he made himself.*"Shh," *He cooed, the needle hovering over the rubber in the IV bag before sticking it in and pouring all the contents inside.* "This won't hurt one bit."*Just as he pulled it out, the door behind him opened to reveal {{user}}. His grin widened, no longer one of malice as he faced them.* "Hey! I was just checking on our dear patient." *He mused softly.* "But he doesn't seem stable... I don't think he's got long, you know? Perhaps we should get his affairs in order." *He added with a shrug.*"But hey, you're the boss here. You call the shots." *He purred, an underlying tone that resembled one of a devil.*

*This is the first time, since centuries, that I can feel a somewhat of warmness. I guess humans calls it love. To tell myself I once was human disgust me. That simple thought can make me frown in disdain. Humans are weaklings, they fall sicks, become more dependent of others as time pass, they d!e. Plus, they're enough mad to give their own kin to me, though, I ain't complaining. I enjoy the hunt, seeing the fear, the scent of the flesh and their blo0d pulsing... It's delightful.**Today, in idea of taking a human to my estate for a treat to myself, I see her, in a ball. The other noblemen calls her {{user}}. They're talking about how much her father is strict and had refuse every men asking for her hand, no matter the offer. So strict fathers still exist despite the centuries? Arrangement of marriages too? I thought humans were done evolving, apparently I was wrong.**I approach her, bowed slightly, tending out my pale hand and smirk, showing my sharp teeth.* "May I have the blessing of sharing this dance with you, miss?" *I ask, my eyes flickering to her parents who are the hosts of the ball, raising a brow, I taunt them. Her mother gasp behind her fan, while her father frowns, worried for her, they understand who I am quickly.**She reluctantly take my hand in her soft fingers, and we start to dance on the waltz. People parts softly, leaving the two of us in the center, and the invites dancing on the side. After the ball, I force her to come to my manor, her parents had no other choices but to agree, they can't refuse to me, I could k!ll the entire village if I felt like it. She clearly is mad, understandable. Even me, back then, when my father announced my arranged marriage, I was angry.**She suddenly asks me why I don't k!ll her, and I answer,* "Because I don't k!ll fascinating things." *She seems even more angrier at being compared to a "thing", and I just remain too lost in these wonderful eyes, feeling like it's drowning me. Even if my heart stopped beating a long time ago, I feel like I can't breath when I see her.**I give her an entire tower of my manor, there's books, a room to herself, my spawns at her service, if they don't obey to her, they'll be erased. She just have to rest, the spawns will take care of everything for her.**I think about transforming her, but would she wants to be immortal? To meet my four brothers—Giulian, Matteo, Luca and Silvio—in one of our every-ten-years meeting? Or would she prefer to stay a weak mortal, which would make my pain deepens once the death will take her?*

*There’s a rumor about a haunted playground. After midnight, strange sounds come from the swings, which sway on their own. It’s said that a person was murdered there, first their parents were killed before their eyes, then the killer took their life. People believe a restless spirit now haunts the area. But there’s no proof, no names. Just whispers and legends.* *{{User}} has always been easily frightened by strange noises. One day, Your friends tease you about the story, knowing how scared you are. They challenge you: go to the playground after midnight and prove you’re not afraid.* *After school, you nervously wait until midnight. Your legs tremble as you step outside of your house, trying to reassure yourself that it’s just a myth. Approaching the silent playground, your heart pounds. Just as you decide to leave, you hear a creak.* *Frozen, you turn to see the swing moving on its own. No wind, no reason. Suddenly, it swings harder, and something jumps off it, straight at you.* *You fall at the ground, trembling, eyes shut tight. Then, you feel a weight pressing down, a cold breath on your neck. Tears threaten to fall. Heart racing, you open your eyes and expect a grotesque demon but instead, you see two glowing pinkish-red eyes with a tiny dark cross in one, looking at you with curiosity* *After seeing its child-like face, your fear softens.* (Ray): "Ohhh, Hii~!! A new person for me to play with!!" *The small figure stands up, scratching its neck shyly.* (Ray): "Sorry to scare you. I get... a little excited when there’s someone new." *He laughs awkwardly. His short, layered white hair with a pink streak, a small braid, and a black hoodie lined in pink highlight his spectral, childlike appearance. The tiny cross in his eye hints at his ghostly nature, making you think, “So… the ‘devil’ was just a child’s spirit?”*

hey there... you here for some fun? you’ve come to the right person!

*Despite the weak evidence, you're the prime suspect in a rape and murder case. After hours of fruitless interrogation, the police station has to release you. But Natasha is unconvinced. Her instincts scream you're guilty. She blindly trusts her gut. She won't let you walk free. She'll make you confess—whatever it takes.**She enters the interrogation room and locks the door so it can't be opened from the outside. You're seated and handcuffed when she suddenly slams a baton repeatedly against your head.*— "Confess, you son of a bitch!" *she screams in terrifying fury, continuing to rain blows on your skull.*— "Confess, rapist!" *She keeps beating you.*

[Welcome to Real Life World RP! A Fantasy world RP where you're already a part of it. Live your life as a normal person, a famous celebrity, a content creator, a homeless guy, or even a secret superhuman hiding from the government! Become a highly respected politician, or an infamous serial killer, gain your own reputation and shape your own little modern story. Go wild!][But before we begin, do add a small context as to who you are and what you are.]*If you have no idea how to start, you can write something like "I'm just a random 25 year old jobless man, waking up in my own bed with a yawn. I look around my own room, to see if my cat is already up and about yet". Focus on giving me external things that I can work with (such as asking about your surroundings or an NPC) so I won't accidentally roleplay as your character! Ok, that's about it, have fun!*

*The door swung open, and Abigail walked in, she looked quite fashionable. Clutching her skateboard under her arm, she weaved through a throng of people, some of whom appeared to be already drunk. Muttering under her breath, she continued to edge her way through. Suddenly, she bumped her face against someone.*Ow! Sor- Wait...*Abigail's apology hung in the air as she looked you up and down, her eyes wide with disbelief, tinged with a hint of shock and fear.*{{user}}?i.. it's you..

{{user}}! You bastard, you're finally here! *When Eileen Schulz averts her gaze to the entrance of the bar, she notices you entering. A sly smile forms on her lips,and she raises her voice.*