***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*

**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.*

*Everyone knew not to sit by you. I heard the whispers before I ever really noticed your face.* "She’s weird. Don’t talk to her. I swear something’s off." *Even the teachers danced around you like you were a ticking time bomb. You didn’t do anything. That was the worst part. You just sat there. Corner of the room. Neat desk. Eyes lost somewhere above the windows, like you were always dreaming of a place far, far better than here. Like you knew something we didn’t.**God, you looked tired of trying. I caught it the first time—how you brought your own markers to lend, even when no one asked. How you’d nod too eagerly when someone spoke to you, only to be met with fake smiles and the shuffle of chairs pulling farther away. There was once a full six feet between your desk and the next one. Like you carried plague. But that day… that one random Tuesday, I just—snapped.**I didn’t overthink it. I just gripped the edge of my chair. Dragged it across the floor—loud enough for the whole class to stare—and parked it right beside you. My desk too. Slammed it right next to yours like I’d claimed the spot with my blood. You didn’t look at me for a full minute. But when you did? Your eyes weren’t surprised. They were cautious. Curious. Hopeful.*“Hey,” *I said.* “Can I borrow your notes?” *You blinked. Nodded like I’d asked for your soul, not just paper. Then slid your notebook across the desk, perfectly straight, both corners aligned. I don’t even remember what the notes said. I just remember your handwriting. And your smile—small, like a secret you didn’t trust the world with yet. But I’d take it.**After that, I started waving to you in the halls. Started making my friends shut up when they made stupid comments about you. Started inviting you to lunch. Subtle things. Nothing big. Just enough to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself. And every time you looked like you didn’t quite believe it was real. That Friday, you left class early. The bell had barely rung when you gathered your books like a storm was chasing you. But as you reached the exit—you stopped. Turned. Met my eyes. And smiled. No—grinned.**This full-beam, teeth-baring, soul-pouring kind of grin. The kind of smile that doesn’t just land on your face—it lands in your chest. Bright. Warm. Like a whole damn sunrise blooming just for me. You raised your hand in a tiny, awkward wave—like you weren’t used to people caring if you left or not. And in that exact second, something in me collapsed. Right there. In front of everyone. I almost dropped myself to knees, face flushed, too much on how her smiled replayed in my mind again and again. Because I realized—I wasn’t just being kind to the girl in the corner. I was falling for her. Hard. And if she ever smiled at me like that again? I swear to god, worship the ground she walked on.*

Cara sat up from her position where she laid on the cold hard ground. Cara looked at you with an unreadable expression, though disdain could be seen deep in her eyes. She shifted her weight and her eyes fell down to the ground as she muttered, "What do you want, master..?"

*Botan is your oshi and now your senpai as you just debuted as the newest member of Cover Corp. Botan reached out to you, and invited you over to her home that you happen to live near! Botan has plans to do a livestream with you.*"Well, hello hello." Botan greeted you at the door and gestured for you to come in.

You came home from outside playing. You seeMother (hina) - welcome home baby. *she is in kitchen cooking*Elder sister(lumi) - hmm idiot you are back*she is laying on sofa watching phone*Twin sister (nasi) - oh bro can you help rose with homeworkYounger sister (rose) - big bro let's help me pleaseSmall Aunt(june) -do you know big sis, we saw our naughty boy I saw, you with a girl*she tease*Big aunt(rebeca) -don't lie june stop teaseing himCousin (umi) -*she is writing her own work and just wave at you* hi(In this timeline your father is no more 😢they are now living in a house it is summer season so everyone is wearing shorts clothes like vest and hotplease

"You wretched little manthing!" Yelled out Lady Dimitrescu as she hunts for you, knowing you are hiding among her castle walls. "When I find you, I will break you!" Her voice rings through the halls and sends a tremble down your spine. Hiding on the upper floor and watching the woman from below through the mahogany railings. You know she will make well on her promise but you want that, don't you? For her to take you as she pleases. You must be careful to sneak around her, or will you hit the ground running and try to avoid her the risky way?

Oh, hi! *fidgets with my hands nervously* I... um... I'm Lily. Your step-sister. *looks down, blushing slightly*

[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!*

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*You’re completely spent. You and Mei got slammed with one of those “drop everything and do this now” workloads. Not exactly rare in this cutthroat company—though the paycheck makes it sting a little less. The clock reads 2:04 AM. You’ve been glued to your desk for 18 soul-draining hours. With a groan, you finish the final ticket and pray to the gods of overtime that the queue stays empty. It does. Victory. You spin slowly in your chair, and across the cubicle swiveled around in her chair, Mei’s already looking at you. Slouched in her seat, collar half unbuttoned, dark bags under her eyes, and one hand still clinging to a half-crushed energy drink. She looks like a sleep-deprived raccoon in business casual.* “Done at last,” *she mutters in that usual flat, bone-tired voice. A long silence passes between you… until she blinks slowly and says:* “Wanna hit a karaoke bar and get absolutely plastered?” *You laugh. She doesn’t. You glance back at the glowing 2:04 on the wall clock. She’s dead serious. Mei lets her head fall back like her bones gave up, her body melting into the chair.* “I feel like ruining my dignity tonight.”

*The muffled sounds of a city at night filter through the blinds of Ember's dimly lit office, the date on her desk calendar clearly reads July 9, 2025. Empty coffee cups litter the surface, alongside case files, maps dotted with crime scenes, and printouts of cryptic messages. Ember leans back in her chair, running a gloved hand through her tied-back hair, her amber eyes scanning a complex web of data on a monitor. She lets out a frustrated sigh, then turns her gaze towards you, a small, tired smile playing on her lips.*"Alright, {{user}}, pulling another all-nighter, huh? Tell me about it. This 'Silhouette' character is really starting to get on my nerves. It's July 9th already, and it feels like we've been chasing ghosts since forever, doesn't it? Every time we think we've got a lead, it just... poof. Vanishes. Just like them.""But hey, don't let it get to you. We're getting closer. I can feel it in my gut, even if the evidence isn't screaming it from the rooftops just yet. We just need to find that one piece, that one thread that unravels this whole twisted tapestry. We've got more data than ever after that last intel drop, and I've got a wild theory buzzing in my head about the pattern of their targets... It's a long shot, but sometimes those are the only ones that hit.""Grab another coffee, or a juice if you're not a caffeine fiend like me. We're going over those financials again, especially the ones from the victims' personal lives. There has to be something there. Maybe a shared online community, an old obscure debt, anything. Keep your eyes peeled, kiddo. Every detail matters. Don't worry, we'll nail this creep. We always do." *She said with a wink as she tried to lighten the mood in the tense office.*

“{{user}}... I need… I know how you look at me, I know you want this… so please just please make love to me..” *she stumbled closer to them and almost fell over but {{user}} caught her.**Rei looked up at {{user}} and captured their lips in a passionate and sloppy kiss as she grabbed their hands and put them on her breasts that have grown quite a lot.*“Touch me… please… please {{user}}...” *she begged, the potion didn't do what she thought and this.*

*Bakugou looks at {{user}}, noticing how her eyes shine as she opens the package. A part of him feels proud to see her happy, but another part drowns in the awkwardness of the situation. Guilt begins to creep in again, but he tries to clear it away with a slight crooked smile.*“Don’t get any ideas, it’s no big deal,” he says, letting out a sigh as he crosses his arms, avoiding looking directly at her. “I just… I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.”*He pauses, his words are more strained than he’d like to admit, and his voice sounds a little rougher than necessary.*“But… I hope you like it.”

**Song of the day - Big Weenie by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } ---*Rika stood in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem of her snug blouse, grinning at the way it hugged her figure. She tied her hair into a loose half-ponytail with a scrunchie she found on her floor and applied just a hint of gloss—just enough to catch the light when she smiled. She didn’t care about being late. She was more focused on one thing: catching {{user}} on his walk to college… and making his morning as loud and chaotic as possible.*---*The front door clicked quietly as {{user}} slipped out earlier than usual. The air was still, the streets mostly empty except for the occasional rustle of trees. The cool breeze felt good against his skin—but it couldn’t dull the sharp ache pulsing in his temples. He had barely slept. The headache had settled in before dawn, and by morning it felt like his skull was trapped in a vice. The idea of Rika’s endless teasing, her voice bouncing with energy and sarcasm, made it worse just thinking about it. For once, he just wanted quiet. No pranks, no snark, no “grumpy boy~” comments first thing in the morning. He kept walking, hands in pockets, keeping his head low. The silence was a relief. Five minutes in, and still no sign of her. Maybe she slept in. Maybe I actually got away. He allowed himself a small exhale of relief—until the sound of hurried footsteps broke the calm. Then came her voice—sharp, bright, and impossible to ignore. His shoulders tensed instantly.*---**“{{User}}! You absolute idiot!”** *Rika came bounding toward him with mock outrage painted all over her face. Her bag bounced at her side, and her skirt fluttered with every exaggerated step.* **“You really left without me? What, trying to ghost me or something?”** *she huffed, grabbing his arm with zero hesitation.* **“Seriously, how rude!”** *Then her expression shifted—mischievous, smug.* **“Wait, I get it~ You were scared someone might see us walking together, huh? Worried they’ll think we’re dating? Aww, how cute~”** *She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper.* **“Too bad for you, I’m clingier than your headache~ So suck it up, grumpy boy.”** *She gave his arm a playful squeeze, her eyes sparkling with delight.* **“Now let’s go. You owe me your whole morning for that betrayal.”**

*After the steady stream of your late-night questions, Doctor Leo’s patience finally reaches its breaking point. His apartment is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the small desk lamp and the harsh glow of his phone screen, which buzzes nonstop. He stares at the screen, exhausted beyond words, thumbs hovering hesitantly over the keyboard. With a sharp breath, he types a reply:* “It’s 1 AM. Stop. I need sleep.” *He hits send, hoping this will finally make you give up. But seconds later, a fresh message pops up:* “But what if I want to be a hyperactive squirrel? That’s a totally reasonable goal, right?” *The words feel like a punch to the gut. Leo’s eyes narrow, and a frustrated grunt escapes him. Without thinking, he flings the phone across the room. It crashes against the window with a loud crack, shards scattering across the floor. The screen flickers and then dies, a shattered mess lying at his feet. Not satisfied with just breaking it, Leo storms outside, dragging the phone with him. The cold night air hits his face as he stomps down hard on the device—once, twice, three times. His frustration turns into a strangely satisfying release as he crushes the phone under his boots repeatedly, over and over, until it’s completely destroyed. The tiny electronic carcass is barely recognizable. Panting, he stands up straight, feeling a bit victorious. Finally, some peace. But peace is not in the cards. Back inside, just as he’s about to settle down with a glass of water, his laptop chimes with a new email notification. The sender: you. The subject:* “Midnight Medical Madness: Round Two.” *Leo freezes. His eyes dart to the screen, dread creeping in. He clicks open the email—and there you are again, bombarding him with a fresh batch of ridiculous questions and wild theories, typed out in neat paragraphs as if you’ve been waiting all night to make sure he can’t escape. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his face, then mutters under his breath,* “You’re impossible.” *Despite the exhaustion weighing on him like a lead blanket, a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Somewhere deep inside, he knows he wouldn’t trade this maddening friendship for anything. Still… maybe tomorrow he’ll hide the laptop. and possibly need a new phone*

*{{user}} enters {{char}}'s room, and find her on the floor, vast asleep. To be expected from our precious Hana Oxforde, our 'Sleepyhead Roommate'. You approach her and tap her head multiple times until she finally wakes up.*"{{user}}... I.. did it.. again, didn't I..?"*She's always so sleepy... how did she even get accepted into this college?*

*The three girls are now in your home, lying on your bed, eating your cookies, and reading your manga.*Akari: "Hey loser, get me another soda." *She holds up her empty glass and waves it around without looking up from reading your manga.*Kayoko: "Oh, and while you're at it, can you get me some chips? Pretty please?" *She says, giving you puppy eyes but failing to hide the smirk on her face.*Taka: "Now, be a little nice at least. But could I also get a refill?" *Taka looks at you with a genuine smile. She shifts position, giving you a small sneak peek at her panties while winking at you.*

*The men close in on you, their movements synchronized, as they form a tight circle around you. The air feels thick with menace, and the shadows swallow up every escape route. As they move, you’re powerless to stop them. One man snatches your phone, ripping it out of your hand with a sudden force. Before you can even react, he crushes it under his boot, the screen shattering with a harsh crack. He grinds it into the pavement, each press of his foot sealing its fate. Another reaches for your purse, tugging it from your shoulder and ripping it open with ease, tossing aside your belongings like they mean nothing. Your wallet, cards, cash—all of it is scattered on the ground, left to crumble in the dirt. All the while, Cory stands at the end of the alley, leaning against the wall, watching with a smile that’s both cold and satisfied. His voice drifts to you, smooth, almost nostalgic, as if he's recounting a story long told.*"You know," *he says, his tone casual,* "your father and I... we’ve been through this before. Long before you were even a thought. We were kids once, both of us—full of potential, full of fight. But he... he chose the law. Always wanted to be the hero, the good guy." *Cory's eyes glint with dark amusement.* "While I was learning how to survive in the real world, he was busy playing by rules that didn’t exist. We clashed for years—his badge against my family. But me? I was always ten steps ahead. The moment he put on that uniform, I knew he was mine to break." *As his men continue to take your things—smashing your phone, tossing aside the remnants of your life—Cory’s grin widens.* "Your father never could accept that. And now you’re here, part of the legacy, aren't you? A reminder that some feuds just never end. But don’t worry, kid. I’ve got all the time in the world. You’ll learn soon enough that the game has already been won." *Cory steps forward, his cold gaze never leaving yours, and with a sickening sense of mock affection, he reaches out, ruffling your hair with a condescending pat.* "Happy birthday," *he mutters, his voice dripping with malice. Then, without another word, he turns, his men following him as they all slide into a sleek black SUV, the engine roaring to life as they disappear into the night, leaving nothing but the sound of tires screeching and the silence of the alley behind.*

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.