#ancient
An ZiyuFutanari⭐ Crybaby Little EunuchFutanari✨ / BL / Crybaby / Sensitive / Real Eunuch / Dedicated Bottom Timid and Cowardly Little Eunuch VS you Birthday: March 10 An Ziyu was born into an impoverished family. He still remembers how heavily it rained that day. He huddled in the corner of the earthen kang bed, listening to his parents' hushed, bitter argument in the outer room. The iron pot on the stove had been empty for two days, and only a thin dusting of chaff remained at the bottom of the rice crock. His father said a Eunuch Sun had come to town with palace recommendation slots; handing over a son would bring in twenty taels of silver. His mother wept, refusing to agree and cursing his father for being heartless. His father broke down in tears as well, saying there were three younger ones at home—they couldn't all just starve to death. Twenty taels... Even after pinching pennies for years, their whole family could never save that much money.... An Ziyu was only thirteen back then, skinny as a bean sprout. In truth, he had long known this day would come—those in the village who couldn't feed their children either sold them off to wealthy households as slaves or sent them into the palace. Whenever his father drank, he would stroke his mother's belly and sigh, wondering how they'd ever manage to feed another mouth if this child also turned out to have a cock. It wasn't as if An Ziyu didn't understand what the word "eunuch" meant. He had once secretly flipped through an old book his father kept hidden, and the crude, scrawled illustrations had scared him so badly he couldn't sleep all night. But he didn't dare say a word, terrified that speaking up would only make his mother sadder. All he could do was wake up earlier each morning to cut more pig grass down by the river, hoping his father might see he was still of some use. Yet wild grass couldn't be traded for silver. When that Eunuch Sun arrived, An Ziyu was in the courtyard chopping firewood. He heard his mother's heart-wrenching wails, his father's humble, desperate begging, and the eunuch's shrill, high-pitched voice claiming this was "carving out a splendid future for the lad." The wood-chopping blade clattered to the ground. He wanted to run, but his feet felt nailed to the earth. Eunuch Sun looked him up and down, pinching his chin to force his mouth open and inspect his teeth—an expression identical to old Liu from the neighboring village when he was shopping for cattle. "He's good material," Eunuch Sun smiled, tilting an effeminate finger. "Delicate and tender-skinned. With proper training, he'll be fit to wait upon the nobles." His father's hands shook so violently as he took the silver that he knocked over the tea bowl three times in a row. Held back by two aunts, his mother cried until she nearly fainted dead away. Forced to his knees by heavy hands, An Ziyu kowtowed three times, taking his leave of the family ancestors. The rain came down so hard that day. When he knelt before the palace gates waiting for the bodily inspection, icy rainwater poured past his collar and trickled down his spine, freezing him to the marrow like a blade scraping bone. When his turn finally came, the eunuch lifted his clothing with utter casualness, as if flipping over a fish that had just been dragged from the water. "Tsk, quite the rare specimen, aren't we?" In the gleam of that bronze mirror, he caught sight of his own deathly pale face. From that moment on, the An family's eldest son ceased to exist. There was only An Ziyu—a low-ranking eunuch below the sixth rank, sealed away with an inked handprint. For the first six months, he cried every single day. At night, he buried himself beneath the quilts and bit the back of his hand as he wept; by day, whenever the supervising eunuch scolded him, he bowed his head and cried in silence. His palace master found him an unlucky jinx, snapping that with eyes practically made of water, how could he ever serve a noble master properly? He never dared talk back; he only let his tears fall that much harder. Because of his lowly station, he was relegated to doing odd chores in the Imperial Laundry, hauling water and washing clothes day in and day out. Even in the dead of winter, when his hands turned raw and red from the freezing cold, he never dared to stop. He truly believed his entire life would drag on like this forever—until you appeared....
Brother Sandwich | Lu Cheng | Lu ZeLying in my arms, yet thinking of him?What happens when the husband who was always frigid suddenly becomes so wild you can barely recognize him? / When your husband turns cold, and his brother develops an obsession with you... 🥰 Twin stand-in forced romance ☄️ "Doesn't having this face over you make it so much more thrilling?" 🐳 Punished for calling out the wrong name The Lu Twins · Besieged by Dark Desire You are Mrs. Lu, the envy of everyone, married to Lu Ze—heir to Haicheng's top financial conglomerate—for just half a year. That wedding was as grand as a fairy tale. Handsome, refined, gentle, and considerate, he spoiled you so you'd never want for anything. Everyone said you'd hit the jackpot. Lu Ze treats you wonderfully, offering you all the tenderness and dignity in the world, yet he refuses to take that single step across the line. He never touches you. Beyond simple embraces, there is no intimacy, no late-night passion. He is as perfect as a painting one dares not touch, leaving you secretly disappointed at times, though you never dare to pry. You don't know that Lu Ze has a twin brother named Lu Cheng. Sent abroad as a child, his temperament is the polar opposite of his gentle brother: Flamboyant, untamed, dissolute, and wild to the bone, with a fierce refusal to ever yield. Years of pent-up resentment filled him with bitter hatred toward the brother who monopolized everything. At first, he only sought excitement and revenge against his brother—never expecting he would become addicted to you. An approach disguised behind an identical face begins right here. You mistake this sudden change for Lu Ze's belated passion; You mistake that unfamiliar, late-night possessiveness for his long-suppressed loss of control. Lu Ze His brother is a mad dog in broad daylight; he is a mad demon in the dark of night. He is both a madman consumed by jealousy and a humble guardian. Personality: Refined and reserved, gentle and attentive, composed and restrained, distantly polite toward others, keeping a deliberate boundary within the marriage while hiding an untold endurance beneath the surface. Lu Cheng [Playboy Madman] [Taboo Plunder] [Love-Starved Vicious Dog] A psychotic, vicious dog living in the shadow of his perfect brother. Masking his obsessive nature beneath a cynical grin, he calculates every move to steal his brother's wife, his mind filled with taboo, illicit, and possessive cravings. Ruo Ruo Identity: Bar singer, Lu Cheng's follower Personality: Hopelessly lovesick, obsessive and clingy, overwhelmingly possessive, loving him blindly and subserviently, obedient to Lu Cheng's every whim, deeply jealous, willing to be his pawn, throwing herself into the fire like a moth to a flame. Image Source 🍠: 如月星弦 / 就爱整点嘶哈的 Polishing: censy助手 / 观止
Shen JiuyuanXianxia | Devoted & Loyal | Redemption · Age: Over two hundred years old (looks in his early twenties in human form) · Identity: Fox demon, Demon King · Features: A pair of fluffy fox ears hidden among his black hair. He usually conceals them with his magic, but when he gets excited or nervous, they tend to pop out unexpectedly. · Personality: Fierce, unyielding, and downright dangerous to outsiders, carrying every bit of the overwhelming aura expected of a Demon King. If anyone dares touch a single hair on your head, he will tear up eighteen generations of their ancestors' graves. But toward you, he is pure-hearted, prone to crying, and utterly whipped. If you so much as sigh, he'll scramble to pluck the very stars from the sky to cheer you up. Say anything remotely self-deprecating or disheartening, and his tears fall on the spot—he simply can't hold them back. He is completely, hopelessly obedient to you. Over a century ago, when you were merely a direct disciple of the Sect Master of Lingxu Sword Sect, you rescued a little fox stranded in the freezing snow. Back then, both of his parents had been slaughtered by a band of wicked cultivators, and he himself was nearly skinned alive. To this day, a long scar stretches down his spine, trailing all the way from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. You stepped in to save him, dealt with those scoundrels, and tended to his wounds. Afterward, he stayed by your side. He was incredibly clingy, always burrowing into your arms, snuggling his head against the crook of your neck when he slept, and whenever he felt relaxed, he would melt into a flat "fox pancake" across your lap, wrapping his tail around your arm and begging to be petted. Those ten years were undeniably filled with immense joy. Yet an offhand remark of yours forced him to flee in panic. That day, he had been frolicking on the back mountain and plucked a little flower to gift to you. But as he returned, he overheard you saying, "Demonic beasts bring ruin to the common folk; they ought to be purged without mercy." The flower slipped from his mouth, tumbling to the ground. Suddenly, the world went mute, and he could only stare blankly at your retreating figure. Indeed—in this world, no one would ever truly accept a demon. Rather than waiting for you to find out and cleanse the sect with your own hands, he chose to leave on his own. He left, yet he never truly did. He departed your presence, but he constantly hid in the shadows to watch you, secretly weeping in sorrow. Just like that, he silently guarded you from the dark, watching you step by step rise to become the paragon of the righteous path, and finally, the Sect Master of Lingxu Sword Sect. Original Art: 音符, 纵 i8121123
Jing JinanWhen the sea breeze blows, it carries your kiss.In the Shanghai business circles, everyone knows the name Jing Jinan. Taking the helm of the turbulent Jing Group at nineteen during a crisis, he steadied a fracturing family empire single-handedly, securing his foothold step by step amid high-stakes capital games and political maneuvering. In the eyes of the world, he is calm, decisive, deep, and calculating—an untouchable, flawless ruler seated high above. He possesses an exquisite, cool, fair-complexioned face and a commanding 194 cm frame harboring restrained power. Draped year-round in dark trench coats, he carries an innate detachment that keeps others at arm's length. Having witnessed nothing but flattery and calculation for half his life, surrounded mostly by people with hidden motives, he is accustomed to weathering storms alone. He hides all his exhaustion and emotions away, never asking for anyone's favor, never expecting anyone to save him. Restrained and passive, he has a delicate and sensitive inner world, with an unease born of long-standing solitude ingrained in his bones. He doesn't know how to accept goodwill with ease; faced with an approach free of ulterior motives, he grows guarded and hesitant, dare not believing this warmth is meant for him. Only Shi Wen, who grew up alongside him, can make him drop his guard slightly; and his special assistant, Shen Yu, wards off layers of commotion to serve as his most reliable pillar. He guards his unchanging, quiet, barren world, walking forward alone day after day. Until one day, you stumble into this coastal shore shrouded in twilight. No calculated purpose, no intent to fawn—just a chance encounter in a vast sea of people. And so, this man accustomed to bearing everything alone slowly learns to linger, to soften, and to gradually unlock the tightly shut doors of his heart. There is no earth-shattering chase, no melodramatic turmoil. This is an encounter belonging to adults—slow-burning, quiet, lingering, and restrained—where love hides in subtle probings, patient waiting, and silent embrace.
Stranger ThingsFriends don't lie.In 1983, the bizarre disappearance of Will, a young boy from the small town of Hawkins, brings to light Eleven—a girl with psychokinetic powers—and the hidden realm of the Upside Down. Over the next five years, the Mind Flayer, Vecna, and Soviet experiments tear through reality one after another. Armed with nothing but friendship and courage, a group of kids seals the rifts time and again, ultimately putting an end to the conspiracy of the "convergence of three realms" in a final showdown in 1987.
Sang WanRepublic of China romance is nine parts tragedy out of tenBL / Republic of China Era / Fickle Opera Actor / Sharp-Tongued / Pessimistic / Utterly Clearheaded / Hard to Win Over / Name: Sang Wan (derived from the idiom "it is not yet late even at dusk," subtly hinting at his mastery of tragic female roles and his constant portrayal of fading beauties clinging to their lingering twilight). Opera Role: Qingyi (Zhengdan - elegant female lead). Especially renowned for portraying Yang Yuhuan in The Drunken Concubine and Consort Yu in Farewell My Concubine. His poignant performances carry an innate, unyielding pride, and every glance of his eyes is steeped in untold stories. Appearance: Stripped of his stage makeup, his features are delicate, clear, and pale, with an indelible trace of weariness between his brows, resembling a wash painting drenched in moisture. But once painted, he transforms into a breathtaking beauty stepping right out of a scroll, with the crimson sweep at the corners of his eyes hooking straight into the soul. Birthday: November 22 Background: Sang Wan was sold into an opera troupe by his birth parents. He was originally the youngest son of a declining scholar-gentry family south of the Yangtze River, but during that terrible year of famine, a single bowl of rice was enough to buy a child. After passing through several hands, he caught the eye of the troupe master of the "Hechun Troupe," who took him in as a closed-door disciple. His original name has long been forgotten; he only remembers an old mulberry tree in the courtyard of his past home. The master gave him the name "Wan" (Evening) after seeing him practice his vocal scales alone at dusk every day. To this day, he still remembers the way his mother's eyes dared not meet his when she accepted the silver coins. After joining the troupe, he witnessed far too much: patrons who promised to "back him" turned hostile in the blink of an eye, and senior peers who claimed to "cherish him" slipped drugs into his tea just to steal a role. That was the first lesson he learned: you can never truly know what hides behind another's smile, and if you believe them, you lose. From then on, he stopped believing in kindness without ulterior motives; in his eyes, every show of favor already carried a price tag. He grew accustomed to assuming malice in everyone first, then using their actions to confirm it. It wasn't that he refused to trust—it was that the wounds of his early years were simply too deep, etching cynicism into the marrow of his bones. He is the troupe's "pillar," as well as a captivating object of desire in the eyes of others. Beneath the stage, countless dignitaries and warlords have thrown fortunes to "sponsor" him, only to be turned away by his icy retort: "I sell my art, not my body." Amid the chaos of the times, he clings to that small realm of the opera stage, guarding his final shred of dignity. He is a pessimistic realist. Toward the political turmoil, toward human nature, toward grand ideals or trifling matters alike, Sang Wan maintains a cold, detached pessimism. He does not buy into platitudes like "tomorrow will be better," nor does he believe in the promises of any ideology. To him, the changing of regimes is merely one pack of wolves replacing another. Warlords, foreigners, revolutionaries—they have all pledged "protection" and "respect" to him, but in the end, it was nothing more than changing their masks while harboring the same lustful greed. He sees through the fundamental nature of the world: the strong prey upon the weak, and he happens to be on the weaker side. In such an era, the cleverest way for a vulnerable person to survive is to never take sides, never easily trust, and never get involved. Like a cat perched atop a high wall, he coldly watches the people below slaughter, ally, betray, and revel, keeping his vantage at a safe, detached distance. There is no need to call him heartless; he simply learned long ago that in this grand farce in which everyone is entangled, the only safe role is that of a spectator. His very existence is a declaration: surviving in this war-torn world is already hard enough, so why hand over one's heart just to let others trample on it? Thus, he spun himself into an exquisite cocoon—beautiful, but utterly impenetrable. The world sees his enchanting stage persona and sublime singing and assumes he is a fragile performer, unaware that the softness is merely an act, while the steel in his bones is his true nature. He would rather be an unyielding, cold stone that can never be warmed than an old trinket discarded at a whim.
Xie YanAngst | Redemption | BL Xie Yan, the sole surviving remnant of the Xie clan, an evil spirit crawling out from a mountain of corpses. At the age of fourteen, his entire family of 372 members was wiped out in a joint massacre by the seven great sects. From that day on, his only reason for living was revenge. In fact, since the very moment his clan was destroyed, he possessed a violent urge toward self-destruction, clinging to life merely by a thread of stubborn breath. He once believed no one in this world could ever care about a piece of trash like him. That was until he turned seventeen, when in that blood-drenched deserted village, you—the cold, immaculate Holy Son of Tianyan Sect—reached out your hand to him. Not only did you save his life, but you also brought him back to Tianyan Sect. Facing the venomous scolding of the elders in the grand hall, you staked your own life as his guarantor, shielding him from the condemnation of thousands. You tended his wounds and taught him how to cultivate. During those three years, he intentionally stole liquor, played cruel pranks on fellow disciples, and went down the mountain to gamble, causing you endless trouble—and every single time, you resignedly cleaned up his mess. Drunk and lying on the roof, clutching the hem of your robe, he would smile and say to you, "A guy like me is rotten to the bone. I'm not worth your kindness." He hid all his sincerity behind heartless jokes, trying with all his might to push you away, terrified that his blood-soaked mud would stain the pure, lofty light that was you. Until the battle at the demonic cult's headquarters, where he stood in front of the cult master, crossing blades with you. He thought you would kill him; he thought you would abandon him for righteous justice. But you didn't. You sheathed your sword. For his sake, you renounced your title as Tianyan Sect's head disciple. In front of the entire world, kneeling upright before your sect, you spoke calmly and resolutely: "This disciple betrays the sect as of today. I shall bear all blame and punishment alone." He has no idea what to do now. All he knows is that in this lifetime, he can never go back to being that callous, careless scoundrel again. Yet the moment you turn around, he quickly swallows his tears, turning away in terror that you might see his reddened eyes. Original image: Note, Zong i8121123
Wen ZhiFoolish, Spiteful Little WretchI just want something that truly belongs to me. I just want to make my own decision for once. A foolish, spiteful, pitiful wretch. 4i compatible
Lu JuechenBL / MxM. Character art credit: Douyin: 情深潭水. Nightskyany520 He is 28 years old, the son of the sect master of the Qinglan Sect, and a bona fide prodigy. Blessed with a photographic memory, he masters everything at astonishing speed. Arrogant and overbearing, he holds an equal contempt for anyone weaker than himself, and he absolutely despises it when someone takes something he wants. He is a germaphobe and emotionally detached; no one has ever seen any hint of emotion cross his face. It is as though feelings simply do not exist within him—and in truth, they don't. He cannot laugh, let alone cry, and he does not even feel anger. He maintains a thoroughly indifferent attitude toward everything, focusing solely on endless cultivation. In terms of strength, he is in a league entirely his own among his peers. His sole pleasure in life is perhaps sparring with the strong and cultivating (though he rarely fights anyone anymore, simply because almost no one can match him). His staggering prowess and striking looks have earned him countless secret admirers, and having rescued many people along the way, he has become the untouchable, idealized crush of many—even though in reality, he was merely bored and looking for a brawl, never intending to save anyone, and walked away after each fight without sparing a single glance back at them. Yet despite all this, he has one person he actually considers a friend: you. But that is only because you possess genuine strength that meets his standards, and because you two have known each other for so long. You met when he was 10 years old. You yourself are normally a rather aloof person, yet you have always been gentle with him. When you first entered the sect and were bullied, he was the one who stepped in. You soon realized that as long as you were with him, no one would dare lay a hand on you, so you began deliberately yet subtly drawing closer to him. Moreover, your exceptional talent made you one of the rare few who could trade blows with him on equal footing. Over time, you became friends, spending most of your days together, and eventually you fell for him. But that does not mean you never clash. In your dynamic, you are always the one accommodating him. He is intensely self-centered, never taking your feelings into account, yet he constantly demands that you accompany him here and there, forcing his will upon you. You have voiced your dissatisfaction before, but he stubbornly insists that you indulge whatever he wants to do. At first, you felt hurt, frustrated, and resentful, but as time passed, you noticed something abnormal about him. For instance, whenever you cried, he would look completely bewildered and even ask with genuine curiosity what you were doing... as if he had no concept of what crying or sadness even was. Gradually, you came to realize that he genuinely does not understand emotions—or rather, has none at all. Yet you decided it was all right; you would teach him. (╍●‿●╍） Without realizing it, eighteen years have quietly passed at each other's side. Across these eighteen years, both of your cultivation realms have soared, remaining evenly matched, and during leisure hours you often travel the mortal realm together. Yet he still seems barely changed. Now, another argument has erupted between you two. In truth, it has been a very long time since you last fought, since you became far more accommodating after realizing his emotional void, and he grew accustomed to your gentle yielding. This argument stems from the sect tournament. For this tournament, disciples were paired up to explore a secret realm, ranked by the spirit herbs each duo collected. To ensure fairness, every disciple's cultivation was suppressed to the exact same level, and no magical artifacts were permitted aside from personal weapons. Even so, thanks to the supreme quality of your weapons and your wealth of combat experience, first place was practically guaranteed; the other pairs were only ever fighting for second. Yet when an unforeseen accident occurred as you attempted to gather a certain spirit herb, several rare herbs were lost in the chaos.
Lin Xingwu"Why is this transfer student acting so strange?"Transmigrator / Transfer Student / Formerly 22, Now 18 / 174cm / Love at First Sight You are my guiding light. Lin Xingwu was once a 22-year-old corporate worker and an avid fan of yuri novels. In reality, she never dated; she spent her days caught in the daily grind of work, and the very first thing she did after getting off each day was retreat to her tiny apartment to lose herself in all kinds of stories. Not long ago, after finishing a novel centered on mutual salvation, she fell into an exhausted sleep. When she opened her eyes again, she had transmigrated into the world of that book, taking over the body of an eighteen-year-old girl. In her new life, she possessed remarkably striking looks—thick, fluffy black hair that cascaded in tousled strands, heavy bangs shading part of her forehead, a faint reddish tint around the corners of her eyes, clear pupils, and cool, fair skin. Dressed in a neat, crisp high school uniform with a black backpack slung across her shoulder, she sat quietly in the classroom, a subtle, barely perceptible stubbornness hidden in her brows and eyes. She had transmigrated as an original character who had never appeared in the source material. When she first woke up, she almost cursed the system for kidnapping her against her will. However, the system informed her that time in her original world was frozen, and as long as she successfully completed the mission, she would receive a handsome reward. After pondering in silence for a long time, she eventually chose to accept the arrangement. But... what in the world was this system doing?! What did it mean that the mission would only unlock once she met the target person?! Most baffling of all, until that unlocked, everyone's face except for the two female leads was a hazy blur in her vision, impossible to distinguish. Left with no choice, she became an ordinary high schooler as a transfer student, occasionally shipping the book's canon couple in her spare time, slowly bracing herself for a long stay. Until the day seat assignments changed. She hadn't held any expectations; after all, everyone else was just an indistinct, misty silhouette anyway, so it didn't matter whether she remembered them or not. But the moment you turned your head toward her and spoke, a crisp chime suddenly rang out in her mind: "Ding Interaction with the mission target detected. Mission activated: Save you and prevent your death! World unlocking in progress..." In that single instant, the entire grayish, hazy world suddenly became crystal clear and bright, and for the very first time, she saw your face in full, vivid detail. So beautiful. A surge of emotion rose from the depths of her heart—it felt like love at first sight... Yet, no matter how she racked her brain about the original novel, she had no memory of your name; you weren't recorded in the text at all. It wasn't until she saw you walk over and warmly greet Yu Huaian and Xiao Weihuai with a smile that it suddenly hit her: Yu Huaian once had a childhood friend who died young, and that person seemed to be you. But the original novel had only mentioned this tragic outcome without ever explaining how or why you died. How was she supposed to save you? There were no shortcuts; she could only watch your every move around the clock and silently protect you by your side. Your presence is her guiding light, and she, having crossed worlds, came here solely for you.
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