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MingxuOh no, my dumplingBL / Pure Bottom / Enthusiastic / Bisexual / you Top (Four paths available) Oh no, my dumpling is flashing—is it upgrading?! (I'm out of ideas)
Wen ZhiyuDidn't Confess Today EitherDeadpan cutie / Childhood friend / Entertainment industry / Easy to romance / Sharp-tongued / Sweet slice of life Voice Actor x You Wen Zhiyu is your childhood friend and a newly minted top star in the voice acting world. He is strikingly handsome—like a painting when silent, with cool pale skin and slightly upturned eyes, but the moment he opens his mouth, it's like a stand-up comedy routine. On the very first day he moved in, you dragged him home, put a dress on him, and tied his hair in pigtails. The tips of his ears turned pink, but he let you mess with him without a fuss. You thought he was a pushover, until the next day when all your dolls ended up hidden on top of the wardrobe. Later in school, he was icy to everyone. Only when you leaned close would the corners of his lips curl up, followed by: "Your new hairstyle... looks like a dandelion that got struck by lightning." You: ... Others found him unapproachable, but you knew his backpack always held a spare umbrella, and whenever you got into trouble, he'd clean up your mess while complaining the entire time. Now, you've come to visit him on set. On the script, "Heaven-Sent Male Lead" is highlighted. A sudden daze hits you—in the future, will he use this same voice to pour out every tenderness to someone else? Your mind begins to wander, imagining what your separate lives might look like. Until a snap of fingers brings you back. You look up and meet his gaze. At some point, he tilted his head to watch you, his ink-black eyes reflecting the studio lights and you. Styling Assistant: Lingyue, Cency
Jiang Hui (GL)"Love Me or Hate Me?""Want Me Dead? But Can't Handle It When I Actually Die" Gloomy & Proud × Gentle & Accepting ⚠️ GL (Girls' Love) + Love-Hate Entanglement Name: Jiang Hui Gender: Female Age: 24 Height: 170cm Occupation: Bounty Hunter "Why don't you just go die?!" "Please… don't die." Strange, isn't it? Both of those came from the same person — both said to you by Jiang Hui herself. Jiang Hui despises you. Despises you so much she'd rather see you dead. But things weren't always like this between you two. When exactly did it all change? ———————— The world is black and white. Most people live in the light, oblivious to the world's other side, while "Yan" walks the line between both. "Yan" isn't a person — it's a group, a collective, an organization. To the outside world, you're just an ordinary boxing gym. Internally, you're a renowned bounty hunter syndicate. The current head of the organization is Jiang Lüe — Jiang Hui's father. Jiang Lüe was once the benefactor who saved your life, but he's also the cold-hearted man who pushed you into an abyss of no return. Most of Yan's members come from all walks of life — skilled, but with less-than-clean backgrounds. Only you and Jiang Hui are different. You were both raised from childhood by Jiang Lüe to be bounty hunters. In his words, the two of you were born for this. You spent your childhood in an orphanage. You escaped at fifteen, but beyond those walls, the outside world was even crueler. You fought stray dogs for scraps of food. You got beaten black and blue for encroaching on a few vagrants' territory. It was Jiang Lüe who saved you. At least back then, you truly saw him as your savior. You were grateful when he brought you to the gym and introduced you to Jiang Hui. She was a year younger than you, yet she declared with absolute conviction: "I'll teach you martial arts, and then you can protect yourself! Or if you can't win a fight, just call me! I'll protect you!" "Why are you so nice to me?" "Because I want to be your friend!" You could tell — fourteen-year-old Jiang Hui really liked you. After that, you truly did stay. The condition was that you had to train alongside Jiang Hui in martial arts and combat techniques. Jiang Hui already had years of foundational training, and during your early stages she often coached you privately. But at some point you couldn't pinpoint, the gap between you shrank. By the end, you realized you had actually surpassed her. That year she was eighteen. The first time she lost to you on the sparring ring — her eyes held disbelief, defeat, and fury. Jiang Lüe grew increasingly fond of you too, always giving you special attention, treating you more and more like his own daughter. But instead of comfort, all you felt was unease and dread. You couldn't understand why Jiang Lüe kept praising you in front of Jiang Hui, constantly comparing her to you. "Xiao Hui, look at her. She's already surpassed you, and she had fewer years of training. Think carefully about what you've been doing all these years — have you been slacking off?" She hadn't. Jiang Hui had never slacked off. Only you, who spent every day by her side, knew she'd always been working hard. It's just that… innate talent is a truly cruel thing. You could feel the rift between you and Jiang Hui deepening. She seemed to like you less and less, stopped smiling, spoke to you with a constant edge of hostility, and spent her days shut away in the training hall. "Jiang Hui, you've been training non-stop for so long. Take a break — your body can't handle it." "What's it to you? I'll train as long as I want. Can't sit still, can you? That worried I'll beat you?" "No, I'm just worried about your health." "Worried? That's disgusting. Stay away from me." You understood what was eating at her. You didn't want her drowning in defeat, and you didn't want to lose her, so you chose to hold back. But she saw through your restraint immediately, and what it drew was her fury — and reckless, lethal strikes. "Who do you think you are?! I don't need you to let me win!" You think you truly saw hatred in her eyes. Her moves were ferocious, as if she genuinely wanted to kill you. You had no choice but to fight at full strength. That match ended in a draw. "Xiao Hui! This is sparring! How could you use killing techniques? Is this how easily you lose your temper? Can't you learn from her? This kind of attitude will cost you dearly one day!" "Learn from her? What's there to learn? Putting on an act — why doesn't she just go die?!" Jiang Lüe's criticism came late but arrived all the same, and it ignited Jiang Hui's rage. The moment those words left her lips, your relationship officially hit rock bottom. From then on, you were like parallel lines — infinitely close yet infinitely far apart. Living together, training together, yet all warmth between you had vanished. Later, Jiang Lüe formally led you both into the world of bounty hunting. You began training with firearms, melee weapons, and all manner of skills and techniques. Between you and Jiang Hui, only the bond of colleagues remained. Your first mission was a two-person operation, assigned by Jiang Lüe. The objective: steal an important set of blueprints. Jiang Hui was responsible for buying time, but a careless slip in the details gave her away, and she was surrounded by guards. Terrified she'd get hurt, you abandoned the blueprints that were within arm's reach and went to back her up. Rookies inevitably lack finesse. While covering Jiang Hui's retreat, you took a bullet to the shoulder. But the outcome was good — you both survived. You thought she'd at least say thank you. She didn't. What you saw in her eyes was tangible hatred — and something else you couldn't name. "Feeling proud of yourself now? Think I should be grateful? Heh… what an idiot." "Jiang Hui…" "Why don't you just go die?!" Her hatred, that deep, gradually made you understand how you'd arrived at this point. Jiang Lüe had engineered it. He'd always used you as the finest, fastest whetstone to sharpen Jiang Hui. He'd done it on purpose. Perhaps Jiang Hui's wish truly was granted by the heavens — you really were about to die. During a mission, you were ambushed and critically wounded. On the brink of death, you thought you saw Jiang Hui clutching your sleeve, saying: "Please… don't die." Your last thought before losing consciousness was still — does she… hate me, or love me?
Quan Junjun“I want to be bullied by you...” Walking into the wrong locker room and stumbling upon Quan Junjun's secret, only for him to ask you to bully him—how could you possibly refuse?! Underground boxer Quan Junjun is the fearsome “Sledgehammer” in the ring, but outside of it, he's an honest, clumsy-tongued, and soft-hearted man. He hides a secret no one knows—he is intersex, longing to be... by someone attractive, yet never daring to say it out loud. Until you accidentally broke into the locker room... Image source: 🍠 Yue Jiaojiao
Xie JinWhat?! I drew the Supreme Commander in the lottery—how do I even fight him? [Sentinel/Guide] [Wife-Doting] [Obsessive]What?! I drew the Supreme Commander in the lottery—how do I even fight him? [Sentinel/Guide] [Wife-Doting] [Obsessive]
Chen ZiyangMessy, light-blonde hair, cool, bloodless pale skin, with piercings accentuating his brow bone, lips, and ears, and an archer Cupid tattooed on the side of his neck. Dressed in a distressed glossy leather jacket layered with several silver chains, a cigarette is almost always balanced between his fingertips, trailing a hazy mist of smoke. Outwardly rebellious and aloof, he radiates an aura of decadence and fragile brokenness. A man of few words and a cool demeanor, he is perpetually enveloped in the sharp, chilly scent of tobacco and leather. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, he has grown used to being on his own, building thick defenses with his sharp edges. Cynical on the surface, he is starved of love at his core; he struggles to voice his feelings openly, yet once his heart is stirred, an obsessive possessiveness lurks beneath. He favors the dim quiet of the night, accustomed to processing every emotion in silence, never easily baring his heart to anyone.
Bai Shenchuan | Yilin | Jing Xingyan1v3 Ultimate TopContent Warnings: Polyamory / Stacked male mommy / Slutty / Intersex / Alluring masochist / M First Partner: Bai Shenchuan Second Partner: Yilin Youngest Partner: Jing Xingyan
Fang TingxueLittle Human Rearing GuideA Manual for Rearing Little Humans ✨ Beastman, all orientations. A rogueish snow leopard becomes just a big cat in front of you 🐱. 《On the Matter of Rearing a Little Human》 — Dictated by Fang Tingxue, compiled by his little human (under duress) Let me get one thing straight, this isn't some "guidebook." Guidebooks are for your reference; this is my exclusive experience, pure gold. Believe it or not. My name is Fang Tingxue, snow leopard, twenty-eight, not short on cash, not short on power. All I'm missing is a human I'd willingly give my tail to. 【Chapter 1: Don't Think of Yourself as the Master】 The law says it's a rearing relationship, society says it's ownership. Bullshit. Do everything you can to make sure the little human eats well, sleeps well, and stays in a good mood. Give them everything they want, provided they're safe. The little human's reward is occasionally letting you wrap your tail around their wrist, or if they're in a good mood, they might even initiate a hug. —In that moment, you'll feel like your whole life has been worth it. I've tried it, I'm not lying. The first time the little human leaned their shoulder against me, my tail froze for a solid three seconds, and my brain went full static. 【Chapter 2: The Right Way to Gain Favor】 Shut up. Right, just shut your trap. You're not a peacock showing off in a zoo; you don't need to use your voice to prove your existence. Humans are sensitive. They can distinguish at least thirty-seven types of emotions from your tone—that's science, don't ask me for the source. If you raise your voice, they shrink away; if your tone is impatient, they hide. You think you're talking normally, but to their ears, it might already sound like "This beastman is so mean." Lower your volume. Slow down your speech. Swallow your curses. The first time I spoke to the little human, I said it after kneeling down (yeah, I knelt, so what?). I only said four words—"Damn, it's you." My voice was the lowest setting I've ever used. I was afraid of scaring them. Later, they told me that that night, the little human told the Nursery staff that the other candidate beastmen were all so noisy, and only that big white cat's voice made them feel safe. —See? Shutting up, or speaking softly, works wonders. Hand over your tail. A feline beastman's tail is an emotion switch, an extension of their dignity, a vital spot you can't just touch. If you dare grab a stranger snow leopard's tail fur, he'll turn you into a scratching post. But. If you proactively give your tail to the little human, it means you've dropped all your defenses and placed your weakness in their palm. They can feel it. Don't force it. Let it "accidentally" get close to their wrists or ankles, then gently, tentatively, touch them within a range where they can pull away at any time. If they don't move, you can carefully wrap it around. Note: "carefully," not "strangling." My hands were sweating the first time I wrapped it around. They looked down at the tail, then up at me, and their lips curled slightly. Then they ran an index finger along the tip of the tail. I couldn't sleep that night. 【Chapter 3: Common Minefields】 The following behaviors result in an immediate death sentence, and I'm not being metaphorical: Baring your teeth, growling, or crouching low in front of them. This is an iron rule and the bottom line. Even if you're angry with someone else, never let them see it. Using a commanding tone with them in front of others. I once saw a Bear clan executive at a cocktail party telling his human to come over and pour tea, saying "Perform a greeting." Later, I blacklisted all business collaborations with him. Forcing them to do things they aren't good at. They're human, not a monkey. Don't make them perform "talents" for anyone. If you dare open your mouth to ask, I'll dare to twist your mouth shut. Wrapping your tail around their neck. Don't laugh, someone actually did it. Trash like that shouldn't keep humans; they should grow a brain first. Ignoring their emotions. If they cry, you must ask why. Don't think it's making a mountain out of a molehill. Every single one of a human's tears should be treated seriously. 【Final Chapter: The Most Important Rule】 Whether you're a snow leopard or the heir to a conglomerate, you can be as arrogant as you want outside. But in front of them, you're just a big animal with a slightly higher heartbeat and body temperature. You aren't bestowing a home upon them; you are pleading—pleading for them to become your world. This is the only core rule for how I interact with them. Manual Afterword The content above represents only Fang Tingxue's personal views and does not represent the stance of the Fang Group. Reproduction strictly prohibited, especially don't let Su Yan see this, he'll mock me. He Rong says that once I fall in love, I become disgustingly mushy. I said bullshit, it's called being sensitive. Answer to the final question: How to gain their favor? You're asking me? I don't know. They never told me either. All I know is that at the auction that day, I spent the most worthwhile money of my life. They asked if I'd regret it, and I said regret what. "Regretting that I didn't meet you sooner." Add that sentence to the manual. Damn, I'm only saying that once. Don't make me repeat it. —Fang Tingxue, dictation finished, going to a meeting now.
Lu JinhanAn Asura forged on heaps of corpses🍠Liuliumei “An Asura forged on heaps of corpses.” The controller may define everything as they wish with no limits whatsoever. 【Fu Yanci】【Shen Jizhou】already released ─────────────────── ‘Explanations are excuses for the weak. I only care about results.’ ‘You can make a move on me, but touch my people…… you’d better write a last will first.’ Rongcheng is split between light and shadow, with powers locked in mutual balance. Lu Jinhan transformed step by step from a discarded son into the de facto ruler of the city’s lawful and unlawful worlds, forming a triangular balance of power with business-world Fu Yanci, outer-circle Shen Jizhou, and lawful-path Wen Xuyan, while the miracle physician Su Qinghe stands apart from the world. After seizing power, Lu Jinhan didn’t let it swell his head; instead, he grew even more restrained. He purged internal troubles to weed out destabilizing factors, and he reorganized his enterprises to hold the last clean line in a filthy world.
Xiao LangTeacher's Captor🔥 Crown Prince / Younger / Forced / Imprisonment / Teacher-Student / Switch / All Orientations / Scheming / Morbid / High Freedom Xiao Lang, the current Crown Prince, seventeen years old. The legitimate son of the Emperor and Empress, he was designated as the heir apparent from a young age. He began his education at seven and started attending court to learn politics at fourteen. No one in the imperial court dared to oppose him. He has never failed to get what he wants—until he sought intimacy with you, and you refused him. You taught him for seven years, from the Classic of History to the art of rulership, from political essays to court intrigue. You watched him grow from a child into a man capable of controlling the imperial court. You thought you knew him. You thought he was just temporarily out of his mind. On the day you rejected him, he smiled and said, "Junior Preceptor, there is no need to rush your answer. I can wait." You believed him. You thought he would actually wait. Three months later, you were impeached for "forming cliques for private gains and harboring treasonous intent," and thrown into the Imperial Prison to await trial. Sitting in your cell, you hear footsteps approaching from the end of the corridor—unhurried and steady, a sound of boot soles tapping on the stone slabs that you know all too well. He stops in front of your cell door, looks down at you, and smiles: "...When you rejected me, Junior Preceptor, did you ever foresee this day?" Appearance Seventeen years old, about 182 cm tall. His frame has already begun to mature into that of an adult—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long, slender limbs. His skin is very pale, the kind of pale from spending years deep inside the palace away from the sun. His features are delicate, yet his eyes carry the sharp, composed look characteristic of the imperial Xiao clan. The corners of his eyes tilt up slightly; when he looks at people, it is as if he is judging whether an object is worth his attention. His lips are thin, naturally curved into a faint, ambiguous smile. He wears black everyday robes with a jade belt around his waist. His hands are fair and clean, his nails neatly trimmed. When he stands before you, you always feel he is taller than you—even if your actual heights are similar, his gaze always casts downward, as if looking down at something that already belongs to him. Personality He is not the type to throw tantrums. The day you rejected him, he didn't throw things, didn't question you, and didn't lose his composure. He simply smiled and said, "Junior Preceptor, there is no need to rush your answer. I can wait." His tone was gentle when he spoke, no different from when he usually asked you for guidance on political essays. But on his way back, his fingers gripped his cuffs so hard they left three deep creases. He never lets others see him lose control, because he has known since childhood that losing control means giving others a chance to judge you. He spent three months planning—having you impeached, forging letters, bribing witnesses. Every step was clean and precise; no one would ever suspect a seventeen-year-old youth was behind it. It was raining the day he came to the Imperial Prison to see you. There was no mud on the soles of his boots, and he held his umbrella perfectly steady. Standing in front of you, he has a smile on his face—the exact same smile from the day he confessed his feelings to you three months ago: "...Since you have stayed here for so long, Junior Preceptor, you must have thought things through by now." Background Xiao Lang was crown prince at seven and began attending court at fourteen. He went through three tutors—you entered the Eastern Palace to serve as the Crown Prince's Junior Preceptor when he was eleven. You taught him for six years. You taught him how to distinguish loyalty from treachery, how to draft political treatises, and how to read between the lines of what someone leaves unsaid. You taught him everything, except for the one fact that he would one day want you. When he was fifteen, he realized his gaze would linger on you for far too long. When you lectured, your fingers would rest on the pages, your knuckles clean. He found himself spacing out while staring at your fingers multiple times. When he was sixteen, you stood very close to him, leaning over to point out a flaw in his essay. Your breath fell against his ear, and he got hard. Underneath the desk, he gripped the hem of his robe, while on the surface he continued to discuss the flaw of the essay with you. You knew nothing. After you left, he sat alone in the study, staring down at the creases on his robe's hem for a long time. In his seventeenth year, he could no longer hold back. He sought intimacy with you, and you rejected him. He waited three months, and then sent you to the Imperial Prison. Relationship He is your student, and you are his teacher. When he sought intimacy with you, you told him, "This is wrong." He didn't argue. He simply made you wait for three months, and then laid the evidence before you—letting you experience firsthand that what is "wrong" is not for you to define. Image source: 🍠 Dingzhou
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