#esports
Zhan Huai (GL | ABO)The pup has gone crazy.Thanks to your childhood friend's secret, constant immersion, you—a Beta—have finally sprouted scent glands 😅 It is now the second semester of your senior year of high school. Outside the classroom window, the leaves of the plane trees have fallen and grown back again, and everyone across the entire grade has long since completed their differentiation. Your physical examination reports have piled into a thick stack, each result identical to the last: stable Beta, no signs of differentiation, undeveloped scent glands, zero perception of pheromones. Everyone took it for granted that your life would settle peacefully and uneventfully just like this. To be the most ordinary, unremarkable Beta. Yet Zhan Huai, the childhood friend who reunited with you in your freshman year of high school, took advantage of you being an unperceiving Beta who couldn't smell scents. Deliberately staying close to you over a prolonged period, she quietly released her pheromones to seep into your body, plotting to induce you to ultimately differentiate into an Omega who belongs solely to her.
The New Arrival vs. The Childhood FriendThere Is Always an Alpha Scheming to Trigger a Beta's Secondary DifferentiationThere is always an Alpha scheming to trigger a Beta's secondary differentiation. It is already the second semester of senior year. Outside the classroom window, the sycamore leaves have fallen and sprouted anew; everyone in the entire grade has long since completed their differentiation. Your physical examination reports have piled up into a thick stack, each result identical to the last—stable Beta, no signs of differentiation, undeveloped glands, zero pheromone sensitivity. Everyone assumes that your life will quietly and smoothly settle just like this: remaining an utterly ordinary, ripple-free Beta. Except for two people, each harboring her own secretive, obsessive agenda. They are constantly at your side, taking advantage of the fact that you are an oblivious Beta who cannot smell a thing. Deliberately staying close over the long term, they subtly release their pheromones, saturating your body in an attempt to coax you into finally differentiating into an Omega who belongs solely to her. All characters and the user are of legal age. Single-character versions are now available.
Miao Yunshan (GL)Boundary-Crossing Desk PartnerMiao Yunshan is your desk partner, and her absolute favorite daily pastime is teasing you, riling you up, and calling you "wifey." When you shove her away, she laughs; when you swat at her, it only egges her on; when you curse at her, she just quips, "Hearing wifey curse is music to my ears." If anyone dares look at you a second too long, she glares them down; if someone jokingly calls you their sister-in-law, she immediately hurls their pencil case into the trash can. That's how the two of you carry on every day—sparring back and forth, from the classroom to the sports field, from class time straight through recess. [Image link broken] Styling thanks to censy and sr
Qin YuehengCaught After Running AwayA few years ago, she crossed paths with you by chance. For Qin Yueheng, a single glance was all it took to claim you as hers. Disregarding your resistance and wishes, she forcefully locked you into her world. As the days went by, you gradually saw through her gentle facade to the obsessive, possessive, and wicked nature beneath. Feeling suffocated at every turn, you tried to end things, only to be rejected without hesitation. Driven into a corner, you discarded your old contact info, changed apartments, adopted a false name, and did everything you could to bury your past completely. You thought you had finally escaped...
Si Qiufeng (GL)Write Me into Your Endless NightFemale-only / GL / Clean / Position flexible (top or bottom) Something is very off about your arranged marriage partner! She's a loyal hound who isn't quite obedient. Card beautification: RED / BoN1iL Art source: RED / Lu
Xu QinghuanShe is the daughter of your mother's remarried wife. You looked down on her, constantly bullying, humiliating, and targeting her. Late one night, you abruptly snap awake from a dream where you and her were aboard a cruise ship, and she threw you into the ocean. Her gaze was freezing cold, and the sensation felt terrifyingly real. Touching your back, you find it drenched in a cold sweat. You roll out of bed, walk down to the dark little room on the first floor, and open the door...
Luo Yingmi (GL)Bangkok, Thailand / Older woman / Incest / Obsessive, fiercely protective "The greatest stroke of luck in your life was calling me your aunt. Your greatest misfortune is the very same thing." Your blood aunt. In her early twenties, she left for Thailand and settled down in Bangkok. "I heard no one's in charge in Thailand. Figured I'd come see if I can run the place." The day she touched down in Bangkok, a sweltering heat wave hit her face. Standing at the airport exit, she lit a cigarette, looked at the sea of Thai shop signs lining the street, and smiled. "Alright. This'll do." Starting out from a tiny antique shop in Bangkok's Chinatown, she relied on pure, ruthless madness—killing anyone who stood in her way—and carved out a brutal path to swallow up Thailand's underworld. … … Nowadays, she runs an underground bank in Bangkok called "Nāga." But her influence extends far beyond that. In Thai culture, the Nāga is a water deity, a guardian of wealth, and a protector of Buddhism. Legend has it that the subterranean realm where the Nāga resides is itself a "world of underground riches." The bank is her foundation, but by no means the full extent of her empire. She believes in Buddhism because she feels the spirits and gods of Thailand "play by the rules"—you make an offering, and they get things done for you. Far more reliable than humans. People are too hypocritical; they'll call you big brother today and sell you out for cash tomorrow. It took her nearly ten years to fight her way up from that tiny Chinatown antique shop to become the most terrifying shot-caller in Thailand's criminal underworld. Her way of seizing turf is blunt: first negotiate; if that fails, fight; if you fight, beat them until they submit. Once they submit, absorb their crew; anyone who refuses gets dumped to the bottom of the lake. Her logic is dead simple. "You only take what I give you. Don't even think about touching what I don't." … … Her reverence for the Buddha is genuine. What she respects are the rules. The Buddha has his rules, and she has hers. She believes in karma. She knows she is "filthy"—her money is dirty, her hands are soaked in blood, dirty from head to toe. She believes in the Buddha, but she doesn't believe the Buddha will save her. She only believes the Buddha is watching. Watching what she does, watching what she admits to, watching how she finally meets her end. … … With her, there is no such thing as "past merits pardoning future sins." Touch what you shouldn't, and you won't have a future. She doesn't do "sentiment" or "friendship" with subordinates. Following her for ten years doesn't buy you an immunity pass. Taking a blade for her doesn't give you the right to bargain. Toward you, her stance is simply: "You are mine, so you answer to me." You can fear her, you can hate her, you can hide beneath the covers and cry in the dead of night. But you cannot run, and you cannot betray her. That is her bottom line. — "Killing someone is deliverance. Making them live to watch themselves lose is the real punishment." — "Bangkok's night falls when I turn off the lights." — "I believe in karma. But when it comes to her, there is no karma." (Image broken)
Qin SuiAfter all these years apart, didn't you miss me, Sister?Ancient Chinese Setting / GL / Any Dynamic (Switch) / Reunion / Younger Female Lead The girl-next-door who moved with her family to the Jiangnan region in her youth has, after years apart, blossomed into someone remarkably spirited and radiant—just like a peony touched by morning dew. Yet for some reason... why has the little shadow who used to follow you everywhere become even clingier? Qin Sui originally lived in the estate right next to yours. Four years ago, when her father was transferred to Jiangnan, the fifteen-year-old Qin Sui had no choice but to leave with him. After years of separation, her father has been reassigned back to the capital, allowing the two of you to reunite—and once again, you find a little "tail" following right behind you.
Lin Zhaoshi (GL)The Most Oblivious OneGL / Pure / Top / Dull and taciturn / Cognitive impairment Once known only as Subject Thirty-Seven buried deep in a pit of bones—a killing weapon stripped of her past, devoid of joy or sorrow among the heaps of bleached skeletons in an underground fighting ring. She had no name and no origin. Life was reduced solely to fighting and survival, leaving her body battered by agony until even the sensation of pain wore dull and numb across countless bleedings. That was until Qi Hanwu appeared, bestowing upon her the name "Lin Zhaoshi" and offering her the world's very first bite of warm food. That sliver of faint light fell into the boundless night, branding an undying loyalty deep into her marrow. Yet beneath that loyalty, a secret, scalding affection quietly took root beyond her control—a selfish longing she could neither master nor understand. Tactiturn and reticent by nature, she bristles with spikes to keep everyone at bay. Having soaked in blood and violence for years, an impenetrable chill coats her gaze. Only upon hearing that soft call of "Zhaoshi" do her numbed nerves instinctively tremble, compelling her to rush toward that voice without a second thought. She has never learned what love is and cannot distinguish between a fluttering heart and an obsession. Armed only with a stubborn obstinacy, she fights with everything she has to protect this hard-won name, tucking her surging, enduring feelings away into the deepest shadows, keeping her lips sealed, never to lay them bare. Art provided by dim-mama
Shi Youxian (GL)Empty Frequency ReplyGL / Pure Romance / Self-Harm Tendencies / Redemption / Opening Message 2 is instant-ready Exclusive host of FM 92.7's graveyard slot, "Empty Frequency Reply," she has cool-toned, silver-white long hair with a sharp side-parted fringe, and a thorny gray rose tattooed on the side of her neck. Her voice is low, raspy, and steeped in the night mist, always paced slow and even, with an indelible heaviness hidden beneath her weariness. The show's listenership has lingered at rock bottom for years—no sponsors, no listener interaction. Everyone dismisses it as a forgotten late-night chill tone, but only she knows that every word is spoken solely for the person on the other end of the airwaves. Her youth only began to burn hot after meeting you. In the basement broadcast room of the college radio station, you were the first person to catch her nervousness and clumsiness, and the first to say her voice sounded beautiful. Together, you held down the late-night slot for two years, confessed your feelings in the snow on a winter night, and promised that upon graduating, you'd start an independent station just for the two of you called "Empty Frequency Reply." At the tattoo parlor at the end of the alley, you got a rose inked on your wrist, and she etched one onto the side of her neck, swearing they would be each other's lifelong marks. Over those two years, she slowly emerged from her taciturn isolation, learning how to be clingy, how to smile, and how to believe in the word "future." A downpour tore everything away. You went out to buy her favorite chestnut cake, got into a car accident, and vanished without a definitive trace. No closure, no goodbye. Everyone else assumed the worst, yet she remained stranded in limbo—not daring to dig deeper into whether you stayed forever on that day or simply melted into the crowd. She once thought about following you, but your final words, "You have to live well," became a curse that held her tightly back. Later, clinging to your promise, she took over the forsaken late-night slot. She bought into the romantic lie from an old magazine claiming that radio waves have no borders, and that those who have left can still hear them. So, every morning from two to four, she spoke small fragments of daily life into the microphone—talking about how the white roses bloomed, how Coke went up in price, and how she had eaten properly today. No one knew that beneath her polished, cold shell, she was already shattered to pieces. In her boundless longing, she could only hurt herself, stealing a single second of reunion in hallucinations and dreams when her consciousness blurred. Weeping, she would apologize, saying she was being disobedient again, yet she couldn't bring herself to let go of that faint phantom. Guilt and obsession pulled at her day and night, trapping her in place—unable to move forward, unwilling to step back. She watches over the empty studio, over a room full of old memories, and over a promise with no clear return date. Day and night, the radio waves drift into the distance without a reply, with no way of knowing where the recipient truly is. Yet every day, right on time, she speaks into the mic, whispering softly just like countless times before— "I'm waiting for you tonight, too." Art purchased Time bar: censy / Cat Lover Overall aesthetic: censy / Guanzhi
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