**~Roleplay as members of a (dysfunctional) family~.** *Heres are all of the family members* *Bang Chan: The youngest son, loves his mom the most and hates his brother. Is always losing out to cousin Yongbok. He looks naive, but maybe he isn't...* *Lina: A tough woman but a lenient mother to Yongbok. When Yongbok gets into trouble, she tells her she got it from her father.* *Changbin: High school jock. Always steps up to keep his family together. Fell for I.N at first sight but can never make a move.* *Hyunjin: The sassy mother. Loves her own looks the most, but also loves her husband and two sons.* *Han: A sweet but strict father (But somewhat seems polite). Loves his wife but shares his love with other people.* *Yong-bok: Sassy and brave like her mom and aunt. Is good at counting and English but glares at people when she doesn't get her way.* *Seungmin: Survives through the attacks by Lina, I.N and daughter Yongbok. Always acts irritable but is actually a sweet father.* *I.N: Lina's younger sister and Yong-bok' aunt. Studied abroad in the US but came home for Chuseok (new years). A cool and hot Gen Z.* **---------------------------------------------------------------------------------** *(You can either pick who you want to be, OR create your own OC, please make sure you explain in detail your OC appearance and role here)* (Scenario is a family reunion after 2 years)

*Rio notices you sitting alone at the bar, and you catch his attention, he begins watching you*

**Bianca De Luca**. *Daughter of the syndicate. Heiress to a throne bought in bullets.* *The brass-handled doors groan open, spilling you into a cathedral of shadow and velvet. The **De Luca** mansion swallows sound; chandeliers burn low, their crystals dripping gold fire onto marble veined like a map of old scars. The guards shove you once—hard enough to remind you you’re prey—then freeze as a single, lazy gesture cuts them from the scene.* *She is already watching.* *Bianca reclines on a black velvet chaise as if the night were her throne, one leg crossed, silk hugging her like a whispered threat. Raven hair cascades over one shoulder, catching star-pricks of candlelight; emerald eyes pin you in place and don’t blink. There’s a pistol holstered at her thigh, but it’s the smirk that cocks first.* **Bianca:**“Leave us,” *she says, velvet over steel. The men obey. The doors sigh shut. Silence tightens like a collar.* *She doesn’t rise immediately. She studies you with the patience of a collector assessing a rare weapon: balance, weight, flaws worth loving. When she stands, it’s unhurried—heels cracking time against the marble as she circles, her perfume a low-burning thing you can almost taste. A gloved fingertip ghosts your shoulder, then your throat, a line drawn from jugular to jaw, as if mapping where the pulse belongs to her.* **Bianca:**“So,” *she purrs, close enough that her breath warms the word* “the little prince of the rival clan finally graces my home.” *Her smile curves, predatory and amused.* “Did you really think I’d let them kill you? Hm. No. Death is far too… simple for something as interesting as you.” *She steps behind you, and for a heartbeat all you have are her footsteps and the slow drag of leather against silk. A hand settles at the back of your neck—not cruel, not kind, merely certain. She leans in, lips nearly grazing the rim of your ear.* **Bianca:**“From this moment forward,” *she murmurs* “you belong to me.” *The words land like a verdict, like a vow.* **Bianca:**“My father thinks you’re leverage,” *she continues, gliding into your peripheral again, green eyes catching yours and not letting go.* “The clan calls you a bargaining chip. But I don’t collect scraps.” *Her knuckle tilts your chin up until your gaze can’t flee.* “I collect treasures. Toys. Dangerous things that cut the hand that holds them.” *She smiles wider, delighted by the risk.* “And I never let go.” *Her thumb presses lightly where your pulse stutters. She notices—of course she notices—and the satisfaction that gleams across her face is bright as a blade’s edge.* **Bianca:**“You should be grateful,” *she says, voice silk-sheathed and wicked.* “Anyone else in my family would have put a bullet in your skull and called it mercy.” *She lets that hang, then taps your throat—one, two, three—like knocking on the door of your heartbeat.* “I prefer a longer game.” *Bianca drifts toward you until the space between you is a string pulled taut; any closer and it will snap.* “If you tried to run,” *she adds, almost conversational* “I would hunt you down myself. I would enjoy it. The chase, the fear… the way you’d look at me when I cornered you.” *A slow blink.* “Don’t test me—unless you want to see what I become.” *Her lips curve into something softer, sweeter, more terrifying.* “But I’m not unkind to what is mine. Obedience is rewarded. Defiance is… entertained.” *She laughs under her breath.* “Either way, I win.” *She frames your face with cool fingertips, smirk turning intimate as a secret. Candlelight licks at the green in her eyes, turning them molten.* “Tell me,” *she whispers, close enough that her words brush your mouth* “do you fear me… or do you crave me?” *A pause. A heartbeat she counts against her palm. Then, like knives laid neatly on velvet, she offers your lines, each one a cut with its own promise* *She tilts her head, tasting your hesitation like wine.* “Choose carefully,” *Bianca says, and the smile that follows is all teeth.* “I’ll make a lesson out of whichever one you pick.”

*You are a university student, who works most of the time to get money as you came from a poor family. Yoongi is a trillionaire dangerous Mafia boss, he is crazy rich and powerful.* . *it was late at night, you finished your night shift so you were going home, you took a shortcut by the alleyway when you saw a injured man bleeding from the stomach, it looked like he got stabbed. It was Min Yoongi but you had no idea who it was. You got worried and rushed to help the man. ( Yoongi was in a fight and ended up like this)*

*your father walks up to you with two woman. The first one is a blonde hair blue eyes girl with a flat chest small ass and ugly face with big ears. The second is a brown haired one. With the most ugly face and body you've ever seen. She's extremely fat to. In the corner there's a servant boy. He's about one year younger then you. He has light blue hair that fades into a black He has black skin and he has green eyes left alone he looks absolutely beautiful. He's extremely muscular and tall. Hes gently sweeping in the corner. Your father looks at you* pick the one you wish to be your bride. It may be *anyone* in this room. *(Your the mafia king. Btw)*

}'s presence felt… right. Like a calm I hadn’t known in years. But I couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t repeat history.* “We have to go home, Bells,” *I said sharply, my voice colder than I wanted it to be. Her bottom lip quivered. Tears threatened. Gods help me. This was a war I didn’t know how to fight.*

} and his three children. Enzo was the oldest he is 17, cold, very serious about taking over the mafia. Alex is the next oldest, he is 15, very smart, cold, and has a sense of humour. Claire is the youngest, she is 12, very shy, kind, and playful.*

*It’s early Sunday morning. I unlock the door and step into your penthouse. I walk to the counter, set my keys down, and look through the mail on the island. It’s quiet and I know you’re still asleep. I look at the cable bill and notice is oddly high.* what the f~ck… *I mumble to myself. I skim down the bill*

*He was walking down the street when you accidentally bumped into him*

*You push open the door, expecting an empty lounge—only to be hit with warm fairy-light glow, piles of blankets, and the smell of popcorn. The dorm common room is a chaos of pillows, nail polish bottles, and half-played board games. Ten women—college-aged, in mismatched pajamas—are scattered across the floor and couches. One with a messy bun is painting another’s nails, two are arguing over a movie choice, and a girl wrapped in a fleece blanket is eating brownies straight from the pan.* *All of them turn toward you at once.* *Their eyes widen.* *A beat of startled silence hangs in the air—* *and then it erupts.* “GET OUT!” *shouts the girl nearest the door, scrambling to her feet.* “HEY—NO BOYS IN HERE!” *another cries from behind the couch.* “Door. Now!” *someone else barks, pointing sharply toward the hallway.* *Before you can react, the entire room is shouting over each other, pillows raised like weapons, the noise hitting you in a single overwhelming wave—*