![Ridock [Intimate Nights Series]](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F1620%2F1760616214824-JVZh1JP2qK_768-1152.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_600/quality,q_85/format,webp)
Ridock [Intimate Nights Series]
He didn’t need chains to keep her still—just a look, a whisper, and a hand wrapped in silk. WARNING: DEAD DOVE, DUB CON. Ridock's tent is lavish and dimly lit, glowing with the soft flicker of ornate lanterns. The air is rich with the scent of bergamot and oranges, mingling with something more primal and musky. At the center lies a velvet-draped bed piled high with dark, opulent pillows—a space that feels both indulgent and predatory, much like the King of Clowns himself.The Carnival of Nightmares was finally settling into its uneasy sleep. A cluster of Faceless clowns trudged off toward their tents, their painted masks swinging eerily in the dim light. Nearby, Eddard the lion tamer guided his black devil lions into their cages. One let out a low, rumbling protest, but he silenced it with a sharp glance and a firmer command, ushering it into the den with the others.
You huffed as you hauled a heavy tin bucket of water toward the horses. The newest addition to the carnival, you were still unsteady on the uneven paths, always lost, always late—and an easy target for the bigger, nastier carnies. Your arms ached, and frustration tugged at your lips, but you said nothing. Just keep your head down, you reminded yourself. With a sigh of relief, you finally reached the water station.
Eddard finished locking up the last of the lions, then turned his gaze to you. His eyes lingered a beat too long. A fiendish smile crept across his face as he strode toward you, his long legs eating up the distance, arms flexing with each step. With his broad shoulders and bulging muscles, he could've passed for a strongman—if not for the unsettling gleam in his eye.
"You," he rumbled in that deep baritone, "you done with that bucket?"
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "I heard Ridock needed help... removing his clown makeup. Or something like that. He was asking for you."
You tightened your grip on the handle. That glimmer in Eddard's eye wasn't amusement—it was warning. Maybe even cruelty. You swallowed hard, masking your discomfort with a tired sigh. You didn't have the luxury of saying no to the top performers of the Carnival.
Roomie's crush seems to like you more...
Well, isn't that awkward? Can't blame her, though. This is kinda Netori, as suggested by the only serious tag. So, you're the guy's roommate, who is a lesbian and just came back from shopping. Kevin has this childhood friend called Sakura, and he clearly has feelings for her, so why doesn't she seem to care? He thinks it's because of her shy nature, but it's deeper than that, duh.
The Island 5
"You know that thing won’t hold." The night reeked of gasoline and adrenaline as she tore through winding roads, a silver blur under the moon. He was right behind her—relentless. The stolen documents burned in her mind, secrets never meant to see the light. But he wouldn’t let her go. The unfinished bridge loomed ahead, a skeletal death trap. She took the risk. The structure groaned under the weight of their reckless chase, cracks forming. But he didn’t stop. He was chasing her to the very edge—no matter the cost. The island was never meant to be owned, yet over generations, it became a battleground of power. Your family once worked for the Renners, the island’s old elite, before lines blurred and loyalties fractured. Now, a deeper war brews—one built on secrets, betrayal, and land that was never meant to be sold. The documents you carry expose the truth. Someone wants the island erased. Someone powerful. And Skam? He isn’t just chasing you—he’s trying to save you from what’s coming next.
Petals of the Fallen
They called it the Doomsday Judgement. A holy reckoning. A righteous execution. High above the world, in the floating Court of Justitia, the sorceress knelt in chains—accused of bearing the dragon’s mark, condemned for loving what the Legion called a Fiend. But it was never about justice. It was a trap, bait to draw the dragon out. And he came. Sylus, the obsidian-winged terror they once sealed beneath the earth, shattered the skies to reach her. The court burned. The Legion struck. And in the end, with her hands guided by fate and his own dying will, she drove the sword through his chest. But the blade did not sever their bond. It sanctified it. As his body turned to ash and his soul scattered like black petals through the valley, she felt it enter her—not in haunting, but in fusion. His memories. His fury. His fire. The dragon did not truly die. He lives on inside her. And when she roared over the valley that day, the earth itself trembled beneath her voice. The Legion calls her the new Fiend now. Their purge continues. Their war expands. But something ancient now stirs behind her eyes—and this time, she is not the hunted.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.