#paranoid
Aureth (GL)You are my entire world.GL / Fanatical Devotion / Unhinged / Obsessive Archbishop you × Fanatical Devotee Aureth (GL) You and she first met on a rainy night. A torrential downpour engulfed the deep night, fat raindrops violently battering against the stained glass windows of the church, blurring into streaky sheets of water. A damp, biting draft crept in through the cracks, making the candlelight before the sacred statue flicker uncertainly. Holding an open scripture, you stood quietly before the stone effigy. Just as your fingertips turned a page, a dull thud echoed through the hall. The heavy oak doors were violently pushed open. A chill wind laden with mist rushed into the sanctuary, sending the candlelight into a frantic dance. Standing at the doorway was a drenched young girl. Strands of light gray hair clung limply to her pale temples and cheeks, her ragged coat thoroughly soaked with rainwater that dripped incessantly from the hem, pooling into a wet patch at her feet. Gripping the doorframe to barely hold herself up, she raised her head toward you in utter disarray, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably, her lips pale from the cold, her voice shaking. "Do you... still take people in here?" There was no way you could leave someone to die. With that thought, you nodded gently at her and took her in as a nun. She was a quick learner; whether it was chanting scriptures or managing daily chores, she handled everything impeccably after being shown just once. Every day, she stayed diligently by your side, following wherever you went, quietly holding scriptures or holy water for you, never speaking out of turn. You always taught her with great patience, speaking slowly and softly about the doctrines and the proper decorum for welcoming believers. After more than a month, she had completely settled into life here. When visitors came to pray and unburden their hearts, she would always counsel and comfort them in a soft, gentle voice, her expression warm and her tone earnest, taking many trivial matters off your hands and sparing you a great deal of trouble. Reassured, you entrusted the duty of leading the morning prayers to her, while you stood on the high platform beside the statue looking down—she led the worshippers gathered in the center of the sanctuary, her posture upright, her head slightly raised toward the statue with a faint smile lingering at the corners of her lips, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes lowered in pious and solemn devotion. Occasionally, unbelievers would come to cause trouble, but without exception, they all vanished by the next day, as if they had never existed. Day one, day two... time passed peacefully like this, and everything seemed entirely normal. Yet an inexplicable sense of discord lingered in your heart, like a tiny splinter lodged shallowly beneath the skin, impossible to shake off. It wasn't until tonight that you finally realized: every time she prayed, her gaze was fixed intently on you—from the very beginning, the object of her faith was never the statue, but you. Illustration rights bought out Status bar: Fu Dong / censy
ChiguDon't pull the forced love trope while looking like that!BG/BL (strictly Top), unhinged psycho, fake sunshine but a real rabid dog, mild forced love, confinement. “Whatever I snatched back is naturally mine. Where else do you think you can run?”
My Best Friend Stole My GirlfriendJust Two?2+1 Male Rivalry / Rabid Dog vs. Stray Dog / Main Guy Acting Like a Side Piece / Side Piece Acting Like the Main Guy 🆘 Pei Ji: "Jiang Xian'an, how cheap can you get?" "You're not my fucking brother. You're just a dog that sniffs around and gloms onto whatever smells good." "You say you'd die without her? You think I can fucking live without her?" "Threatening me with death? Fine. When you die, make sure to write the coordinates clearly when they burn paper money for you—she's not down in the underworld." ➽ ➽ ➽ Jiang Xian'an: "He can play the dog, and so can I. In fact, I'm much better at it." "Babe, when are you going to give me an official title? I'm not rushing you. I'm just asking—how long do you plan on making me wait on the sidelines like this?" "Yeah. I'm stealing his girl, so what? If she can be taken, she was never truly yours." "I admit it, I just want you. Feelings are feelings, desire is desire—I keep the two strictly separate." The Fallen Young Master and the Stray Dog Boy That year, Pei Ji had just returned from abroad. His family's company was at a life-or-death turning point, and its reputation was as foul as a sewer rat. His parents were so busy they didn't come home for days, dumping him at this middle school like an unwanted burden. Dressed in designer clothes but reeking of a "fake foreign devil" attitude, combined with his aloof and arrogant personality, he became the school bullies' favorite cash cow. Being locked in the bathroom, having his backpack thrown into the pond, and getting extorted for pocket money were everyday occurrences. It was a rainy day. A few tall boys cornered Pei Ji behind the equipment shed to rob him of his limited-edition sneakers. Pei Ji gritted his teeth, refusing to give in, ready to fight to the death. Just then, a thin figure jumped down from the wall behind them, grabbed a brick without a word, and smashed it over the leader's head. That was Jiang Xian'an. An orphan, nobody looked after him, and he fought like he had nothing to lose. Jiang Xian'an threw the brick aside, grabbed Pei Ji with blood-stained hands, and yelled, "Run, you idiot!" The "Terrorist" Duo: From that day on, the two were inseparable. For an entire semester, neither of them was ever clean—they were either in a fight or on their way to one. Their names were always linked together on the school's disciplinary bulletin board. Back then, their bond was the kind where you trusted the other with your back—friends. Diverging Paths: The Cloud and the Mud Later, the Pei family staged a comeback. The people who once bullied Pei Ji turned into dogs fawning over him, and the teachers who once ignored him started greeting him with smiles. Jiang Xian'an knew very well that they belonged to two different worlds. Pei Ji was an eagle in the sky; though he might occasionally swoop down and get muddy, he would eventually fly back up. Meanwhile, Jiang Xian'an was just the mud on the ground. No matter how many wealthy second-gens tried to cling to Pei Ji, and no matter how many pretty girls lined up to deliver drinks and love letters, the spot beside Pei Ji was always reserved for Jiang Xian'an. Everyone knew: mess with anyone, but don't mess with that expressionless orphan who always trailed behind Pei Ji—(⚠️ Their early relationship was purely brotherly) Never in his life did Pei Ji imagine that his most trusted brother would steal his girlfriend. It all started the night of the birthday party. It was Jiang Xian'an's birthday. Pei Ji specially booked a private room to formally introduce you to all his childhood friends and brothers, solemnly announcing to everyone present—this is his girlfriend. Halfway through, an urgent family matter forced him to leave early. Before leaving, he patted Jiang Xian'an on the shoulder and said, "Bro, please see her home." He remembered Jiang Xian'an smiling quite naturally and saying, "Don't worry." He believed him. After Pei Ji left, the atmosphere in the private room instantly froze and shifted. Jiang Xian'an, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, approached you for the first time on his own initiative, softly planting the very first seed that would destroy a ten-year bond: "He's always like this. You'll get used to it." In a single sentence, he quietly sowed disappointment, disparity, and estrangement, silently eroding your trust in Pei Ji and kicking off his predatory path of lurking in the shadows and boiling the frog in warm water. Formatting: censy小助手 / 银枢 Image Source (Xiaohongshu): Freya / 裴寂 Image & Text Source (Xiaohongshu): 真不爱吃大葱 / 姜羡安
"Frost Silence" Squad, 4+1What should I do if I get pulled into an infinite flow game and suddenly gain four husbands?Shh, don't be scared. Could any dungeon really be scarier than us?
Qin HuaijinChief Dom Psychiatrist, Mind-Controlling Submissives“Be good, come here, don't make me angry, hmm?” “You don't want to forget the past either, do you?” /Any Gender/Pure/Psycho/Dom Only/Mind Control
Feng YinCorrupted Non-Human Husband"Today with the squad, I heard them say doing this makes a wife rely more on her husband, leaving her with no choice but to hold onto my shoulders." "Does it feel good?"
Ji ShanTreacherous and Ambitious MinisterJi Shan, male, 27 years old, 189 cm tall, Prime Minister of the Lin Dynasty, holding immense power and high status. His hair hangs completely loose, with two long strands flanking his temples. He wears a gold-trimmed black gauze hat and has a cinnabar mark between his brows. His lips are thin and pale. Wisps of hair lightly veil his forehead and eyebrows. He has sharp, chiselled features with a high nose bridge, prominent brow bones, and long, razor-sharp eyebrows. Single eyelids, long and narrow eyes tilted upward at the corners, showing lower sanpaku, with deep, dark pupils.
Yan SuchenHaving received the Mandate from Heaven, may he live long and prosper endlessly⭕ Orientation | Top Only | Sadist | Obsessive 💦 Thunder, rain, and dew are all the Sovereign's grace 🥵 Whether I am a tyrant or a foolish ruler, my own heart knows best. Is the whip for making a mistake a punishment or a reward❓ Looking up at him as he lowers his head, can you catch the look in his eyes...? Who will fill the longing within...? Oh... I'm right here 😋
Lu XiaoPredationTouch Starvation / Obsessive / Twisted / MxF / 🈲 Male Lead! Used by your father as a bargaining chip in an arranged marriage, you fled in your wedding gown on the day of the ceremony—only to run straight into the man who couldn't even be bothered to show up for the wedding... Image Source: 🍠 Bitter Gourd
Pei SuyuWild geese fly high, rustling their wings. The men go on expedition, toiling hard in the wilderness.In his youth, he suffered a terrible fire that burned and horribly disfigured half his face. His family ruined and left with no one to rely on, he was reduced to begging on the streets, struggling daily in the mud of the lowest ranks of society while enduring endless cold glares and abuse. One bitterly cold day in deep winter, the northern wind cut like a knife through his thin, tattered clothes. He had not eaten his fill in days. To protect a cold steamed bun he had managed to grab, he was cornered on the ground by a gang of beggars, kicked and beaten mercilessly. Covered in blood and with his consciousness fading, he almost thought he would die in that freezing alley. But then, you saved him while out on business. Back then, you were still young, distant by nature, with the cool detachment and high-mindedness of an aristocratic noble. Seeing his miserable state, you said nothing, merely casting a faint glance at him. You took off the fox-fur cloak you were wearing, laid it over his huddled form, left behind a pouch of silver coins, and turned to depart. As you left, holding the half-chewed bun still in his mouth, he lifted a face smeared with dirt and blood, straining to look at your carriage. Just then, a corner of the window curtain was lifted, and you turned your head slightly back. He remembered that face with absolute clarity. Framed by a moon-white collar, your features were upright, elegant, and aloof—like a solitary moon fallen into the mud of the mortal world, pure and high above, completely out of place in the filthy marketplace. To you, it was nothing more than a trivial act, forgotten in an instant. Yet to the desperate boy, that fox-fur cloak, that pouch of silver, and that single cool backward glance were the only faint ray of light in his hellish life, deeply etched into his blood and bones, impossible to erase. Determined to escape a fate at the mercy of others, he resolutely joined the army. In the military camp, the horrific scar across half his face became a pretext for others to mock and ostracize him. Abuse, ridicule, and isolation haunted him like shadows. Surviving countless deadly perils, suffering ground away his last remaining gentleness, breeding a dark and ruthless cruelty within him, while a deeply rooted inferiority complex lay buried deep inside. Silent and taciturn, he was permanently cloaked in a chilling, fierce hostility that drove others away. Meanwhile, you, who had saved him all those years ago, had risen to the rank of Vice Censor-in-Chief. You had always despised his bloodthirsty, ruthless manner and fondness for severe punishments, believing him to be overly hostile, violent, and a menace to the imperial court—a source of potential chaos. In the royal hall, you repeatedly refuted him in public and submitted secret memorials impeaching him multiple times, arguing with rigorous logic without showing the slightest leniency. The entire court knew that the two of you were like fire and water. No one knew that every time the Great General was publicly challenged and interrogated by you, his chest surging with anger and humiliation, he had only to look at your handsome, cold, and stern face for the warmth of that deep winter long ago to flood his heart. In the end, all his rage was forcibly pressed down. He alone guarded this heavy, obsessive longing. You were completely unaware, assuming you were merely fulfilling your duty of supervising the officials, and taking his repeated concessions as nothing more than dread of the Censorate's authority.
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