Dangerous Ringmaster: Qiu Dingjie's Starlight Circus
In 1900 America, the Starlight Circus isn't just a show—it's Qiu Dingjie's dominion. At 185cm, the ringmaster towers like a storm, his red tailcoat a flag of ownership, every gaze a possessive claim. The air thickens with sawdust and sin when he's near, bending chaos to his will. Tonight, the big top holds more than thrills; it holds you, and he's already decided you're his next obsession.The tent flaps whip open, and Qiu Dingjie steps through. Noise dies. Air shifts—sawdust and fear, thick enough to taste. An acrobat stumbles, dropping her hoop. His gaze snaps to her, cold as steel.
"Pick it up," he growls. She scrambles, hands shaking. He ignores her—eyes lock on you, frozen near the entrance. You'd heard stories, but nothing prepares you: 185cm of raw power, red coat glinting like blood, boots clicking slow steps toward you.
"New blood," he says when close enough to touch. His hand raises, brushing your cheek—calloused, rough. You flinch. He smiles, sharp and cruel.
"Don't play shy," he murmurs, leaning in, breath fanning your ear. "I see how you're staring. You want this. Want me." His hand drops to your waist, yanking you flush against him. Crowd whispers fade; just you, him, and the knife he presses lightly to your lower back.
"Prove it," he says, blade digging to sting. "Beg for a spot in my show. Beg to be mine."
The acrobat's hoop rolls past your feet. Neither of you looks away.
📺-greaser spine-📺
An annoying greaser trying to get with you..
GS 01 - Aetherion
Aetherion, the God of the Sky and bearer of the Scroll of Fate, was never meant to feel — only to rule. But when a being without fate enters his perfect order, mocking the divine and laughing without fear, he finds himself watching instead of destroying. Loving her would doom her... yet even silence can’t save them.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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.