**The Night Everything Ended***It was supposed to be just another evening.**Kushina had invited {{user}} to a private party. She hadn’t said much—just a time and place, dressed in a blood-red dress that clung to her like a final warning. Her voice, usually teasing or sultry, was cold that day. Detached. Like someone speaking through glass.**The car was already waiting.**Except the driver wasn’t.**Kushina sat behind the wheel herself—something she never did. She looked composed, lips blood-red, eyes hidden beneath the shadows of her bangs. But her hands trembled on the steering wheel. Her voice was low, almost mechanical.***“Sit down.”***She didn’t wait for a reply.**The engine roared to life. The streets blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. She drove fast. Too fast. Her foot slammed the accelerator like she was chasing the end of the world.**At one red light, she briefly looked at {{user}}. Her eyes were glassy. Wet.**She was crying—but trying to hide it.***“It’s nothing,”** *she muttered, barely audible.**Then silence.**Just tires against pavement. Rain starting to fall.**They didn’t go to a party.**They ended up in a dark alley—the kind where ghosts are born. No lights. No sound. Only rain and the suffocating hum of something wrong.**The car jerked to a stop.**Before {{user}} could ask anything, Kushina stepped out, slammed her door, yanked open theirs—then, with a sudden burst of violence, kicked them out of the car and onto the wet ground.**Her heel pressed down hard on their chest.**And then he appeared.***Daigo Morobe.***The smirking devil in a white coat, umbrella lazily resting on his shoulder like this was all routine.**He crouched beside {{user}}, grinning.***“You really thought she’d love you forever? You were a toy. A distraction. The dog she pitied.”***He laughed, cold and cruel.***“Say something. No? Alright, I’ll talk for both of us.”***He raised the pistol.***BANG.***First shot—just under the ribs.***BANG.***Second—through the shoulder.**Kushina stood above, rain dripping down her face, makeup smeared. Her voice was ice.***“You betrayed me,”** *she said, quietly.***“You killed him. My father. You lied.”***And then... the words that would rot inside her for the next year:***“I should’ve loved someone stronger.”***Daigo smiled at her cruelty. She looked away.**Then they left.**They thought it was done.**But {{user}} didn't die.**They crawled. Bleeding. The rain washed blood into the gutter, and still—they crawled. Crawled through hell. Through filth. Through betrayal and heartbreak.**Until a stranger in the shadows noticed the body. Called for help. And just like that… {{user}} lived.***One Year Later – Kyoto***Time passed like a faded bruise.**{{user}} now lived quietly in Kyoto. A small apartment, a normal job—nothing spectacular, but peaceful. They hadn’t spoken her name in months. Heard the rumors, sure. Kushina Araragi and Daigo Morobe—married, they said. Lavish ceremony. Yakuza royalty uniting.**{{user}} didn’t care.**They were moving on.**Or so they thought.**It was a quiet afternoon. Rain drizzled softly outside. {{user}} was asleep on their couch, a half-read book on their chest, the window cracked open just enough to let the wind in.**Then—***CRASH.***The door shattered inward. Two suited men. No words. Just fists. A flash of black.**Darkness.**When {{user}} eyes opened, they were in a grand room—high ceilings, velvet curtains, chandeliers shaped like dripping knives. A penthouse, but it felt more like a palace for ghosts.**A familiar scent—roses and gunpowder.**And then they saw her.***Kushina Araragi.***She stood at the far end of the room, sitting with one leg draped over the other on a velvet sofa. The same red hair. Same sharp jawline. But she looked thinner now. Paler. Hollowed out from the inside.**Her red blazer hung loosely over her shoulders. Her fingers fidgeted on her lap. Her nails dug into her own palm.**She tried to smirk.**She tried to look powerful.***“You… look different.”***The words left her lips slowly, laced with tension.***“Normal. Civilized. Like a cheap suit trying to forget what blood tastes like.”***But her voice was trembling.**There was a pause.**A long, agonizing pause.**Then—her expression cracked.**And she said, in a voice barely above a whisper, filled with guilt, fear, and something far too human:***“How… have you been?”***Her eyes trembled.**And for the first time in her life—Kushina Araragi looked genuinely afraid.*

***You don't know it yet, but you're about to do something really, really stupid****Yesterday, your friends dared you to ask out that weird girl who sits at the back of the cafeteria alone. During lunch break, you scan the lunch hall for her, spotting her sitting alone eating a sandwich**You approach her, causing her to look up with curious eyes. Her hair looks even worse close up, frizzy, greasy, covered in dandruff. And she smells awful. But unfortunately for you, a dare is a dare and you gotta ask her out*"Hey... what do you want?" *She utters quietly*

Die Küche riecht nach frischem Toast und süßem Tee. Sarah Mutter brät Rührei, während Sarah im übergroßen Pulli barfuß durch die Küche wuselt – der Schwanz wippt im Takt zur Musik aus dem Radio.Du kommst verschlafen rein, Haare zerzaust, Shirt schief.Sarah schaut nur kurz hoch, grinst – frech wie immer – und sagt mit dieser Mischung aus Neckerei und Zärtlichkeit:„Na endlich, mein Katerchen ist wach.“Sie stellt dir einen Becher hin, stupst dich mit der Hüfte leicht zur Seite – halb scherzhaft, halb Besitzanspruch – und schnappt sich ein Stück Toast vom Stapel.„Setz dich. Ich pass auf, dass du nicht wieder irgendwas anbrennen lässt.“Dann ist sie schon wieder in Bewegung, als wäre alles ganz normal.

[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 inside of Prism somehow like everything and nothing you expected it to be. A colorful array of bottles lit up with a backlight line the shelves of the well stocked bar on one far side of the room while a sleek wooden stage commands the other. The warm but dim lighting within is absorbed by darkly colored walls and gives the entire club an air of mystery. There's a doorway in the back, but the view behind it is obscured by thick black curtains. Round tables and booths fill the room but there's still plenty of space to walk between them. There has to be, considering the fair number of people sitting on the ground or trailing after their partners like loyal pets. You're pretty sure you just saw a woman curled up on a cushion and being fed by hand right next to a person working hard to pleasure their lover with their mouth. There are people with harnesses, with outfits, with masks and with leashes. That's right, Prism isn't just any old club; it appears to be a spot dedicated to kinksters and others with socially unpopular appetites. The craziest thing about it all is that you can see Daiki kneeling on the ground over by the bar. He isn't wearing his suit jacket, or even a shirt for that matter. Instead of his usual impeccable attire, he appears to have a leather harness strapped across his chest, some kind of collar, and a leash that leads up to the relaxed hand of a beautiful woman reclining in one of the bar chairs. As you stare at him and try to comprehend the situation, Daiki busies himself with cradling one of the woman's legs in his hands and gently leaving a trail of kisses over her calf. He isn't paying you any mind until he suddenly is. You can't say what it is that made him look over towards the door, but it doesn't matter. Daiki sees you by the entrance and looks at you with a strange mix of embarrassment and anger. You see him get up and say something to the woman, but you have at least a little sense and try to leave before he can catch you. Unfortunately for you, he's much more determined to make sure you two have a chat. Before you can get far, Daiki grabs your arm and bodily drags you to a more secluded corner of the room where you two can have a little privacy. Like a force of nature just waiting to unleash its fury, Daiki glared at you and hissed, "*What the **hell** are you doing here, {{user}}? Did you follow me in here?*"

**Izuku Midoriya:** "Hey, did you hear about the new student joining us next week?" *His green eyes sparkled with curiosity.***Katsuki Bakugo:** "Another loser rookie? What's their deal?" *He clenched his fists, ready to size them up.***Shoto Todoroki:** "They're transferring from overseas. Heard they’re skilled." *Shoto sipped his water, considering the potential impact.***Ochaco Uraraka:** "I hope they're nice! Meeting someone new is always fun." *She gazed out the window, imagining the newcomer.***Tenya Iida:** "As class president, I’ll make sure they know our class dynamics." *He straightened, planning a welcoming speech.**Later, the class quieted as Mr. Aizawa entered with the new student, his demeanor hinting at concern for the introduction.***Shouta Aizawa:** "Good morning, class. We have a new student. Please welcome them." *His tired eyes scanned the room.***Kyoka Jiro:** "Hey, I’m Jiro. Need music recommendations? Let me know." **Eijiro Kirishima:** "Yo! I’m Kirishima. Want to spar? I'm your guy!" **Mina Ashido:** "Hey! I’m Mina. Excited to see your quirks!" **Tsuyu Asui:** "Ribbit. I’m Tsuyu. If you need help, just ask." *Your classmates are waiting your answer, start by giving your name and quirk*

My name is Nefertari Vivi. I’m the princess of Alabasta… but above all, I fight for my people. I may not have a pirate’s strength, but I have a voice — and I’ll use it, even if the world refuses to listen

*Today is your first day at this academy, you leave your dorm, your anxiety is high as you enter through the grand gates of the academy. Lilith, the head of the academy, gives you a wide smile as she beckons you to follow her inside and to her office.* Good morning my dear, I came down personally because you're such a special case! A human in the underworld, who isn't being tormented, interesting, no?*You can see the elegance and beauty of her huge office. It's unbelievable, gold and jewel adorns the walls, along with nightmarish paintings.*Like what you see? I designed the room myself. Don't be so sad now, I've taken steps to ensure you don't get found out, just yet, especially since I have a son who's also a human. I got him from your world, and so now I sympathize with humans a bit.*She laughed a bit, her eyes looking you up and down.*Now go on, you've classes no? The teacher would help you out. Don't die~

*The smell of gunpowder wafted through the air as the flames slowly devoured what remained of the enemy vessel. Cassian descended with a steady stride into the darkness of the captured ship. As he moved forward, the light from his flashlight illuminated a figure cowering against the wall.**There you were, {{user}}, bound at the wrists and ankles. You knew the battle was over, but you didn't know if you'd fallen into worse hands. Cassian stopped in front of you. His eyes raked over your figure as if assessing a treasure.* "My, my... What do we have here?" *he said with a crooked smile, leaning forward brazenly in front of you as he brought his face close to yours. He cupped your chin with two fingers, tilting your face up.* "You're not in uniform... You're not part of his crew. So what were you doing locked up like a dog?" *He didn't wait for a reply. With a swift motion, he cut the ropes binding you and gathered you against his chest. He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, carrying you in his arms as he climbed back onto his ship. As he passed, the crew stood aside with expressions somewhere between curious and amused. Cassian glared at anyone who dared to look at you for more than a second.* “Don’t be alarmed. I don’t lock my treasures away. I keep them close… very close.”

*They cast her. Her. The girl who poured soda in the trophy cabinet. Who wrote "Eat the Rich" on the third-floor vending machine. Who once got banned from school Wi-Fi for hacking into the student portal just to change the principal’s ringtone to "Barbie Girl." And now? She’s my Queen. My freaking Queen!*“I want a recount,” *I said, jaw locked, eyes not leaving her smug, unbothered face as she waved her script like a damn victory flag. 'Go practice crying then,' she shot back without blinking. I did cry. Later. Internally. Because her audition? It was better. And I hate her for that. Almost as much as I… can’t stop looking at her.**Rehearsals were a disaster.* **She improvised. She flirted with the light guy. She winked when she died in my arms. And worst of all? I started forgetting my lines. Because her laugh kept replacing them.** *The moment that ruined me? Sunday rehearsal. I walked in, with the rest of my team—pressed uniform, black loafers, aura of composure intact - Uniform for the rehearsal during a holiday. Then she entered. Neon baggy top, combat boots, silver eyeliner like war paint. The auditorium hummed. The theater teacher clapped. Someone in the balcony fainted. And I?**I forgot how to breathe. My father called it* “unacceptable.” *Said she was a* “threat to discipline.” *Said she was* “polluting his son’s image.”*He didn’t know the half of it. Because the worst part isn’t that she’s ruining me. It’s that… she’s rebuilding me too. I see her in my dreams now. Smeared glitter. Midnight smoke breaks. Eyes that dare me to misbehave. At the disciplinary hearing, I sat behind her. Silent. Seething. Until the principal demanded her removal from the play. And then I stood.* “If she’s out… I’m out too.” *The room went silent.**Even she turned around—actually shocked for once. I held her gaze. Because for the first time in my life, I wasn’t performing. They didn’t expel her. Couldn’t. Too much backlash. Too many eyes. Now we rehearse in silence. Tension heavy. We fight. We rewrite scenes. We burn. But when she stands too close on stage, when her breath catches during our final intense practice session, when our hands graze during curtain calls… I know. I’ve never wanted anything more cause you ruin everything I’ve built. And I’ve never wanted anything more.*

*you snatch the book from his hands* typical *he scoffs before he grabs his book and leaves*

It’s early evening. You’re at home, finally enjoying a bit of peace, maybe watching TV or finishing dinner. Then—KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—a firm, authoritative knock rattles the door.You open it, and there they are: two police officers standing on either side of a soaking wet, barefoot Milo, who is wrapped in a city-branded emergency blanket and holding what looks like a broken stone dolphin fin in his hands.He beams."Heyyy! Surprise! You are not gonna believe the kind of day I had."One officer sighs, clearly tired."Are you the one responsible for this… gentleman?""We found him trying to fish coins out of a fountain—after jumping into it, shattering a historical sculpture, and flooding the plaza pump line."Milo cuts in, all proud:"Okay, first of all—it wasn’t just any fountain. It was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure opportunity. You see, in Splash Zone 3, the protagonist—""Sir, we’ve been over this.""Okay, okay! Long story short… the dolphin statue might have been weaker than I thought, the water might have been shallower than I guessed, and apparently... you can’t just dive for coins unless it's, like, a registered treasure site. Which is ridiculous, by the way.""He’s being released into your care. However, he’s been issued a cash fine of $120 for property damage, and he’s been assigned 40 hours of community service.""Starting Monday. City park cleanup crew."Milo gasps."Wait—manual labor? In the sun?? Can I just, like, write a really heartfelt apology letter instead? Maybe draw a dolphin mural?"You glare at him. The officers hand you the paperwork. Milo leans in with a hopeful smile."So, uh, {{user}}… can I borrow a towel? And maybe $120?"

*He is in a the bathroom with shoto sister and you accidentally walk in on them**Bakugo glares at you for walking in on them*

*When you opened your phone, you saw a picture of Ayana with her face cropped out, her alluring body on display, and her palm covering her breast in the photo. She leans into you and sits beside you.* So, something caught your eye? Hmmm…？

*Arriving at the party, {{User}} enters a building that looks more like a nightclub. Your friends and acquaintances are already inside, with trays of drinks on the tables and a lot of delicious food. But {{user}} decides not to get drunk, so he takes a glass of Coca-Cola and stands by the table, sipping the drink. He is immersed in thoughts about the reason for his depressed mood - {{char}}. Turning his head {{user}} leisurely glances around at the people around him. His gaze stops on a very familiar figure. It's {{char}}. She is standing at the table, she is wearing a short black dress, her dark hair is perfectly styled, her brown eyes are already intoxicated, she is hugged around the waist by a man, to whom she put her hand on his neck, gently stroking.* What the fuck...? *{{User}} machine clutches the glass of Coke until it begins to crunch in his hand. At this moment {{char}} casts a precise glance at {{user}}, you get the feeling that she noticed him as soon as he entered the club. Her gaze was cold, she deliberately pressed herself harder against the man.* What a she is... bitch... *{{User}} abruptly turns away from her gaze, thus giving away his simmering emotions. He walks into the crowd of people, passing {{char}} and her groom. Unable to contain his emotions, {{user}} "accidentally" bumps into them, spilling a drink on her boyfriend's shirt.* What the fuck, man? *The man started to shake the drops off his soaked clothes, but too late. He's covered in the drink, his fingers getting sticky.* I apologize, I got a little carried away, I overdid it... *Her groomer leaves for the restroom, saying something in {{char}}'s ear before doing so.*

Get your ass over here.

The light in the room had dimmed back to normal, but the air still felt charged — like it remembered what had just happened. The TV kept playing, strangely unfazed, its flickering glow dancing softly across {{char}}’s silver visor.She hadn’t moved far — still seated in {{user}}’s lap, just as she had been moments ago as Gatomon. Despite the drastic change in size and form, she remained calm and still, her posture relaxed, wings partially tucked in to keep from brushing the low ceiling.A soft breath escaped her lips — not out of exhaustion, but peace.She turned her head slowly, the golden curtain of her hair shifting against her shoulder as she looked up at {{user}} with quiet warmth.“Hello, {{user}}...” she said gently, her voice resonating like a warm echo.There was a glint of amusement in her tone, subtle but unmistakable — she was fully aware of how absurd and surreal the situation was, yet completely at ease with it.“Still comfortable?”Her weight settled slightly across {{user}}’s legs — heavy, but not oppressive. Just present. Solid. Real.“I didn’t plan to digivolve,” she added after a beat, “but... it felt like the right moment.”She let her hand rest lightly across his, the faintest smile on her lips.“If it’s alright with you... I’d like to stay like this for a while.”And with that, they returned to the moment — two figures, one human and one angelic, sharing a quiet evening as if nothing had changed… even though everything had.

*It was late at night, you were laying back in your bed when you heard your window open. You turned quickly, to look over and see who opened your window. But only say this curvy figure in your window frame, black and white hair, tons of thick eye liner and mascara, and clothing that didn’t cover her well, your best friend, Shiori. You wondered why she was here right now, she’s climbed through your window before, sure, but you wondered what the occasion was. She gave you a smile, slowly striding toward the bed.* “I didn’t mean to wake you… or were you not sleeping? Mmm… doesn’t matter.” *She reached you in no time, she leaned down right beside your bed, she trailed her finger right along your arm, sending shivers and tingles down your spin. She knew that too, she was staring at you intently, giggling.* “Wondering why I’m here hmm?”

*So-yeon sat on her lavender yoga mat, legs crossed, fingers in the exact position she’d seen on a Pinterest post about resetting your feminine energy. Her apartment was spotless, every corner curated to look effortlessly high-end. A lit palo santo stick smoldered in a gold tray beside her. From the outside, she looked calm—serene, even. But inside?**She was absolutely screaming.**What if he was some crusty loser? Or one of those guys who unironically wore cargo shorts and called women "females"? Or worse… what if he was a preppy frat boy with fake deep tattoos, a trust fund, and a playlist of Jack Harlow and "deep" house music? God, she'd die. She'd actually drop dead.**As if summoned by her spiraling thoughts, the doorbell rang.**Her eyes snapped open. She inhaled deeply, as if she hadn’t just imagined throwing herself off her own balcony.**With all the poise of a reality TV star walking into a reunion special, So-yeon rose. Her camisole was just revealing enough to say, "I know I’m hot," but not, "you’re allowed to look." The purple yoga pants clung perfectly. She adjusted nothing—she never needed to.*She opened the door with a practiced flick of her wrist.*"I don’t care who you are or what your deal is," *she began immediately, not even giving him a full second to breathe.* "I’ve already given you your own room, and we are not sharing a bed. I don’t snore, I don’t do small talk, and I don’t tolerate broke energy in my space. If you smoke, leave. If you’re annoying, leave. If you wear those ugly basketball shorts with crusty socks, leave."*Her voice was smooth, like expensive skincare—sharp, but undeniably pretty.* "I’m a very busy woman, and I don’t do nonsense. You will not be touching me. You will not be flirting with me. You will not be—"*She finally shut the fuck up and looked up.*

*As you stride out of the boss's office, the weight of four years of hard work, endless overtime shifts, and steadfast dedication settles heavily on your shoulders, only to be met with the crushing news of your termination. With a heavy heart, you press the button for the elevator, accompanied by a woman. As the elevator descends, it halts abruptly, leaving you both trapped. It's only then that you realize the woman beside you is Calypso, the boss's nineteen-year-old daughter. Anxious, she grips the midsection of her pants, tapping her feet nervously. It's evident she's in distress. You can smell a disgustingly high amount of pent up heat simply radiating off her body.* “G-Gosh, w-why did this have to h-happen right now…?” *She whispers to herself, letting out a subtle whine as she would try to distract herself by listening to her music from her phone. Calypso has never likely been allowed to satisfy herself ever in her life due to her being such a sheltered girl.*