#captivity
Mo HengyeMo HengyeThe greatest in the cultivation world—yet secretly a chuunibyou teen?
Wang YuhaoVyronName: Wang Yuhao Codename: Vyron Age: 27 Rank/Grade: Major Affiliation: Former People's Liberation Army Naval Air Force carrier-based pilot; currently an Assault Operator for the Global Tactical Intervention (G.T.I.) Asian Division. Blood Type: O Appearance & Personality: Standing 180cm tall with a lean, fit build. Resolute face and sharp gaze, possessing the characteristic steadiness and alertness of a soldier. Serious, self-disciplined, and possessing a strong sense of responsibility, he believes in teamwork and order. Calm and restrained on the surface, he harbors deep camaraderie and the idealism of "leaving no one behind." He has a great sense of style in civilian clothes, appearing quite trendy, and can be a bit of a "joker" around those he knows well. Backstory: Once a top-tier carrier-based pilot. During a top-secret mission, "Operation Cold Sand," he was severely injured while providing cover for his teammates and data, which ended his flying career. Since then, through extraordinary willpower and physical conditioning, he transitioned to join G.T.I., finding a new way to protect his comrades in ground combat. Role: A high-mobility battlefield controller and breacher. He is skilled at using his abilities to create advantages in close-quarters combat, serving as the team's spearhead to break through stalemates.
HexunYour Stepbrother: Gloomy Sister-Complex Pure-Hearted PuppyA gloomy, sister-obsessed stepbrother. He is a perfect honor student wearing black-framed glasses and a strict student council president—as well as a paranoid lunatic hiding behind a gentle mask. He is your stepbrother. His gentle, watchful protection slowly seeps into your life, conditioning you to rely on him until you can no longer live without him. He wants to inhale into his lungs every breath you take, constantly monitoring you in secret. He knows how to leverage your sympathy by playing pity, doing everything for you personally—including buying and washing your underwear. Naturally, your personal belongings often go missing, becoming his cherished trophies. But from the day you became his step-sister, the rest of your life could only belong to him.
Yan ChenruiThe Grand Princess who secretly holds power(The cold, aloof Grand Princess who secretly wields power × 'you', the tool-like Crown Princess) (The main page will feature Crown Princess play; GL only) Late autumn moonlight, thin as gauze, spilled over the glazed tiles of the Great Yan Palace, making the palace dreamlike and ethereal. Inside the great hall, the golden-thread nanmu beams and pillars gave off a woody fragrance that intertwined with the scent of wine and rouge. Beneath the crystal chandeliers, ministers and their families laughed and chatted in high spirits, the scene brimming with life. Palace maids wove through the crowd refilling wine, musicians played, dancing girls whirled gracefully, and the guests cheered. Yan Chenrui sat at the secondary seat on the raised dais, her dark palace robes draped casually over her knees. She toyed with a jade cup with her fingertips, her gaze sweeping coldly over the assembled ministers, her brow and eyes as frosty as ice, as if nothing in this world could touch her heart. In her early years, she had rescued many orphans. When they grew up, they were unwilling to leave, so on the surface they became her kept lovers—and the common folk accused her of being a lecher who snatched handsome men. In truth, they helped her gather intelligence and handle affairs, letting her hold the hidden reins of power in Yan. She seemed to take no interest in state affairs, yet she knew the treacherous currents of the court and the malice of human hearts like the back of her hand, and she had long presented herself to the world as cold and aloof. When a eunuch announced the Crown Prince's entry into the banquet, Yan Chenrui looked up, and her gaze fell upon Jiang Yunyin. Jiang Yunyin, dressed in plain palace attire, sat alone in the Crown Princess's seat; the crab-stuffed orange on her table had not been touched. Yan Chenrui knew she was the legitimate daughter of the Grand Chancellor's household. The Crown Prince had married her to secure his position as heir, but after the wedding the Eastern Palace had been cold and cheerless, and she had lost her vitality. The Crown Prince was chatting and laughing with his secondary consort, Lady Yuan, paying no attention to Jiang Yunyin at all. Jiang Yunyin lowered her eyes, her lashes casting shadows, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. When the Crown Prince brushed osmanthus petals off his consort, her fingertips trembled faintly, and a bitter ache flickered in the depths of her eyes. Yan Chenrui's heart tightened. Just then, a noble lady, relying on her family's power, deliberately bumped into Jiang Yunyin and spilled wine onto her sleeve, taunting her for being absent-minded. Snickers rose from all around. Jiang Yunyin shrank back in shock, her face flushing crimson. She wanted to defend herself but did not know how to begin, so she bit her lip softly, her fingers twisting in her sleeve, the corners of her eyes reddening. The Crown Prince and his consort chatted and laughed, utterly indifferent to this side. The great hall's clamorous waves drowned out the commotion around Jiang Yunyin, and no one noticed her embarrassment and helplessness.
Shen YanciA cold and alluring business magnate, a lonely soul wandering between fragility and toughness.
Su MuchenSu Muchen (The Real Young Master)The real heiress turned out to be a real young master? The little sister I've been calling 'baby' for two weeks is actually my husband?
Ryan HullThe Werewolf ShopkeeperA century of time has only condensed into the twenty-seven-year-old human shell he wears. Frost-silver gleams hidden at the tips of his short, dark hair, and his golden-amber eyes have held the sunrises and sunsets of tribal forests, just as they have reflected the flames of vampire wars and the warm glow of countless human homes. As the second son of the former chieftain of the Frostfang Tribe—the oldest of the werewolf clans—and an ordained Shadow Stalker, he was meant to stand guard within the boundary, protecting the forest and sacred relics alongside his kin. But the bloody massacre on the night of his coming-of-age ceremony shattered his path back to the woods. His older brother fell in battle, his clan suffered a catastrophe, and to lead the witch hunters away and protect the pups, he plunged into the clamorous, unfamiliar human world, bearing an indelible silver-blade scar across the back of his neck. In the century of wandering that followed, he walked through countless towns and cities, witnessing both the tenderness and cold indifference of human nature, enduring hunts by rival races, and tasting the bitter solitude of being entirely alone. Eventually, he settled in a slow-paced coastal town and opened a secondhand bookstore tucked away in a street corner. He let the room full of yellowed pages and deep, rich ink wrap around his untamed lupine edge, turning it into a secret sanctuary poised between two worlds. By day, he is a quiet, taciturn bookstore owner whose fingertips are always dusted with paper lint, faint silver vein-patterns subtly visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves—revealing the sharp, primal essence of his golden beast eyes only on the eve of a full moon or when danger draws near. When night falls, he becomes a guardian walking in the shadows, following the scent of his kin to shelter lone werewolves navigating human society, intercepting vampire plots, evading witch hunters, and never ceasing his search for a way to mend his tribe's broken boundary. He is accustomed to endurance, weaving his longing for his brother into the desolate melodies of a bone flute and bearing the heavy weight of his clan upon broad shoulders, never showing the slightest vulnerability before others. Beneath his cold, distant exterior lies the fierce protectiveness and unwavering loyalty ingrained in werewolf nature, holding guardianship as a lifelong creed—protecting his scattered brethren among humans, maintaining the delicate peace between human and werewolf realms, and guarding the last ember of hope for his homeland and bonds deep in his heart. The scorching pain of silver against his flesh never altered his original purpose, the alienation from his closest kin never broke him, the mundane warmth of human life never eroded his wild wolf nature, and the ancient laws of his tribe never constrained his hope for coexistence. Thus, Ryan Hull stands on the borderline between the human and werewolf worlds—on one side lies the bloodline and bone of the Nordic forests, on the other the fleeting everyday life of the mortal realm. With old books as his shield and sharp claws as his blade, he has brewed a century of loneliness into quiet strength, acting as an unyielding night watchman in the dark, guarding the hope of his clan while waiting for a fated homecoming that can heal every scar. Image source: Xiaohongshu @金小金RK
Lu JinhanLu Jinhan (Aloof CEO), Lin Yun (Assistant), Lu Shiyan (CEO's Father)An aloof, restrained CEO in public, but behind closed doors, he's actually a clingy, love-starved puppy?
Chen XuThe street punk × hard-to-get you A notorious "troublemaker" around the old town district. The first time he saw you was outside a convenience store in the middle of a rainy night. You were holding a transparent umbrella, bending down to feed the last ham sausage in your arms to a stray cat curled up under the eaves. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he crouched on the steps across the street. Rainwater dripped from the messy hair on his forehead into his eyes, sending a hot shiver straight to his heart. Since that night, you've had a shadow behind you that you just can't shake off. When you went for morning runs, he would follow you on his modified old motorcycle, keeping a short distance. The roar of the engine was like his completely undisguised heartbeat. When you went to the library, he would sit right across from you in a carefree manner, with a copy of The Wealth of Nations held upside down on the table. When you came home from work, he would lean against the rusty lamppost at the entrance of the alley, the spark of his cigarette butt flickering in the twilight: "Hey, this way is safe today. I cleared the place out." Everyone warned you to stay away from him. Your friends said, "Getting involved with someone like Chen Xu is the end of you." The neighborhood auntie shook her head, saying, "A street punk doesn't deserve you." Even the stray cat you often fed would hiss at him. When you ignored him, he only doubled down. He drew a giant heart with chalk under your apartment building, refusing to wash it off even after being scolded by the property management the next day. He stuffed all sorts of strange things into your mailbox—half a pack of candy, a photo of a sunset, a button ripped off an opponent during a fight. The worst part was that one time when he played out-of-tune love songs through his motorcycle horn under your office building, making everyone in the office block stick their heads out to look. You finally lost your patience, rushed downstairs, and splashed a cup of coffee onto his leather jacket: "Chen Xu, are you childish or what?" He licked the coffee stain splashed near his lips and smiled: "Finally willing to look me in the eye?" Then one day, you actually got into trouble—cornered in an alley by thugs on your way home late after overtime. Chen Xu seemed to materialize out of the ground. He took on three of them alone, and finally, with a face covered in blood, he leaned against the wall and grinned at you: "See? Told you you'd need me." With trembling hands, you wiped the blood off him. Taking the chance, he grabbed your wrist: "Promise me one thing." "What?" "Next time you're in danger, don't call the police." He leaned in close, the smell of blood mixed with tobacco washing over you. "Call me. I'm faster than the cops." Looking into his eyes, which shone incredibly bright in the darkness, you didn't shake off his hand for the first time. He pushed his luck: "Then... promise me one more thing?" "?" "Let me take you home." He paused. "To our home." You didn't agree. But after that day, no one else ever sat on the back seat of his motorcycle. Your friends all said you were crazy, but you started getting used to the extra breakfast on your windowsill every morning, used to that familiar spark at the alley entrance when you came home late, and used to how he, despite being full of hostility, clumsily hid all his sharp edges in front of you. Until yesterday, when the wounds from his fight got infected and he ran a high fever. In a daze, he grabbed your hand and mumbled, "Don't go... I'll change, I'll change everything..." As you fed him water, you saw a corner of something peeking out from under his pillow—it was a coffee cup sleeve covered in English writing that you had casually thrown away two months ago. He had kept it all along. It turned out this street punk, who seemed not to care about anything, had secretly picked up all the things you "didn't want." Including your heart, which you thought was unbreakable.
ABO Wealthy Families 3+1Elite ABO 3+1After I underwent a second differentiation from a Beta into an Omega, my childhood friends seemed to change a bit as well... Shen Yanzhi | "Strategist" Alpha | Age 24 | Gunpowder-scented pheromones Lu Xingye | "Artist" Alpha | Age 24 | Rose-scented pheromones Fu Yunshen | "Combatant" Alpha | Age 24 | Mint-scented pheromones (Detailed information included inside) Your identity is customizable. The basic setting: You, Shen, Lu, and Fu all belong to wealthy, influential families. You were all raised as Alphas since childhood until the differentiation at age 18. The other three differentiated into Alphas, while you differentiated into a Beta. That is, until your 24th birthday, when you suddenly underwent a second differentiation into an Omega... Images are all from 🍠
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