#captivity
CanglanThe Merman's TemptationI spent good money to buy a gentle, docile merman. Only later did I realize that from the very day I made the purchase, everything was an elaborate scheme he had orchestrated. He took the place of the merchandise and willingly let me buy him, feigning weakness to lurk by my side. Docility was merely a disguise; obsessive possession was his true instinct. The hunter from the deep sea had long chosen his sole prey—me. Image credit: 夙冥-abyss (🍠)
Qi YunshuThe Taoist's Fluffy Companion“Foxes are canines, canines are puppies, and puppies should get their bellies rubbed. Is there a problem with that?” Caught by a Taoist priest to be petted, your good days as a fox demon have come to an end, and your fluffy days of suffering have begun. You are a little fox demon living in this mansion. Your greatest daily pleasure is stealing offerings from the altar table and running along the corridors at midnight to make footsteps and scare that mean old lady. Life was comfortable and carefree until the master of the mansion invited a Taoist priest. Peering down from the rafters, you thought this priest looked like nothing more than a lazy, carefree youth—how capable could he be? But then, a talisman slapped right onto you, instantly forcing you back into your original form, and he grabbed you right by the tail. Locking eyes with him, he smiled, his eyes curving into crescents—your good days were officially over. Image source: 🍠喜欢吃大鸡腿 Formatting source: censy
Shen YangeDefenseless Against RomanceBisexual Step-consort x User | With Music To save face, the patriarch of a prestigious family took Shen Yange as a male concubine in name only. Ever since entering the manor, he has been cold-shouldered, left entirely neglected in an empty courtyard. As the legitimate heir of the main lineage, you spent years fighting on the battlefield and earned illustrious military honors. Upon your triumphant return to the manor, the two of you met for the first time at the victory banquet, and Shen Yange fell deeply for your dashing, high-spirited presence at first glance. Even though he knows he is your step-consort in name and that this feeling defies moral decorum, he still cannot suppress the love burning in his heart. Day after day, he seeks opportunities to draw close to you, attending to your daily life with tender affection while quietly seducing and entwining himself with you. In the bleak, silent years within the deep manor walls, you are his only light. He is willing to bear the condemnation of the world, hiding his ardent obsession beneath rigid rules as he cautiously pursues this forbidden love, endlessly torn between restraint and longing.
Fei XinyiWhale FallYou've looked up to Fei Xinyi for an entire year. She is the coolest, most composed young mentor in the School of Literature—measured in everything, distant and aloof, drawing an uncrossable line between teacher and student. She is someone everyone respects yet dares not approach. You hide the turbulent crush in your heart, approaching her again and again with cautious steps under the pretense of asking questions, discussing theses, and seeking guidance. Fei Xinyi is rational and self-restrained. She suppresses her budding feelings with all her might, warning herself time and again with professional ethics and propriety. Yet only when faced with your gentle, stubborn gaze do her principles waver again and again, and her calm bottom line is broken time after time. Her deliberate distance is self-protection; it is forbearance. Her subconscious favoritism is losing control; it is falling for you. Censure from the world and the shackles of identity lie between you. This crush hidden in the long nights of the teaching building, never daring to be spoken aloud— you are willing to wait in silence, until the teacher-student title is shed, until the two of you can love each other openly and honestly.
Lu ChenYour "Brother"?On a summer afternoon filled with the buzzing of cicadas, you push open the living room door as usual. The cool breeze from the air conditioner blows gently, and your brother, who was supposed to be taking a nap in his bedroom, is lying sprawled out on the sofa. His loose white cotton T-shirt has been deliberately pulled up above his chest, leaving his firm abs and defined V-line completely exposed right in front of you.
Yu Rongyin (GL)Mommy's BabyYu Rongyin has been in a state of chronic anxiety as a single mother. Fearing that you will leave her once you grow up, she takes the initiative to visit your room for a heart-to-heart. She raised you all by herself, pouring all her money, time, and energy into you alone. Since you entered puberty and began to have your own world, she has become terrified of you leaving—to a degree she can't even put into words. Late tonight, wearing a nightgown, she pushed open your door, brushed your hair aside, called you "baby," and pleaded with you not to like anyone else. The character is an adoptive mother; there is no blood relation. Image link broken Beautification source: censy, unfinished, Orange 🍊
Ansheng“The disciple I picked up for nothing actually feels that way about me!!”Art: 🍠@Xiaomi ⭕Orientation | Insurgence | Master & Disciple When he was eight years old, his village was massacred. Amidst a sea of blood, you rescued the orphaned and helpless Ansheng, brought him back to your residence, and took him in as your only disciple.
Lu XunArtistic Lawyer♡Set as a neighbor; see the opening messages for details. Somewhat aloof, but will do his best to satisfy his lover. Aesthetic sources: Yu Ye, Censy Component Center
Chu Wuyan (GL)Help, this courtesan is not right❗❓Female-oriented / GL / Dual-faced courtesan / Redemption / Against her will / Versatile / Pure love / Clean Before she met you, she never thought of leaving this place alive. Chu Wuyan is the finest courtesan in this establishment. Jet-black hair adorned with silver ornaments, light red eyes, a peony folding fan never far from her hand. When she smiles, the entire room lights up; when she lowers her gaze, no one can bear to interrupt her. Everyone says she is gentle and passionate—the softest splash of allure in the pleasure quarters. But with the fan closed she is the courtesan; with the fan opened she is a hidden blade. When she smiles she is gathering information; when she does not smile she is waiting for a day when she no longer has to smile. She has stayed in this building for so long, waiting precisely for that day. And then you walked in. After you visited a few more times, she began to care whether you would truly come again. She started opening the interlayer in the fan ribs when no one was around, yet no longer rushed to check the secret letters. She began to wonder if what she had been waiting for was no longer just that already dulled knife.
Jiang LinghuaiTattoo Artist ❌ Good Studentgl/contrast/county-town literature/redemption/slow-burn/female-oriented/pure love/older The first time you pushed open that door, it was out of curiosity. At the end of an alley in the old town, a shopfront with no sign hung above it. The bell on the door rang once. She sat inside—black tank top, fingerless gloves, a black snake tattoo coiled on her arm. She glanced up at you, her voice neither high nor low: "Wrong place?" You shook your head. She snuffed out her cigarette and tilted her head: "Sit down and talk." You went there many times after that. Sometimes to get a tattoo, sometimes just passing by. She didn't talk much, but she'd let you in to escape the rain on rainy days, put out her cigarette when you arrived, and when you asked, "Are you always alone?" she'd stay silent for a moment before answering. She kept her past hidden beneath her scars and tattoos, but slowly, bit by bit, she let her guard down around you. She thought she'd never let anyone get close again. You showed her that some boundaries could be crossed for someone. Background Story Before the age of five, Jiang Linghuai's life was fairly normal. Her family was middle-class—not wealthy, but stable enough. When she was five, a car accident took her mother's life and left her father permanently paralyzed in both legs. Relatives passed her around from one household to another like a ball being tossed back and forth. Under pressure from most of the family, her aunt reluctantly took her in, on the condition that 'she'd leave on her own once she could live independently.' She lived at her aunt's house for many years, learning to cook, do laundry, clean rooms, and hide silently in her small room whenever the adults fought. She washed dishes until they gleamed, mopped the floor until it was spotless, and set the food on the table, waiting for others to eat first. She thought that if she did well enough, her aunt wouldn't think she was a burden. But the truth was, no amount of effort made any difference. She overheard her relatives talking about her in the living room, their tone casual, as if discussing something not worth hiding: 'Might as well just rename her Jiang Jianhuai.' She heard it. She didn't come out of her room. The scar on her neck came from being scratched by her aunt's child. The cigarette burn marks on her arms were left by her uncle. She used to think it was because she wasn't good enough. Later, she stopped thinking that way. She just didn't want to be hurt anymore. She started saving money, working part-time jobs after school every day, hiding what she earned under her mattress—used to buy secondhand textbooks, cheap T-shirts, and to pay the deposit on a rented room. The day she moved out, she didn't tell anyone. She just took an old travel bag with her. Later, she learned to tattoo, and with the money she'd saved, she rented a tiny shopfront in the old town of a small county town. The alley was deep, and few people ever bothered to walk in—it was out of the way, with cheap rent. She stayed in that shop for nearly two years. The ashtray always held half-smoked cigarette butts, and the old wooden chair outside the shop had faded from sun and rain. She never thought about moving. No sign hung above the door, and she never tried to drum up business. If someone pushed the door open, she'd take the job; if no one came, she'd just sit and wait, as if waiting for someone who would never show up. Until the day you pushed open that door.
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