onceuponnpc

[onceuponnpc]

Part two of The One She Let Go.

Warnings: Are the same as the previous chapter😃 My Shaylaaaaa, look at him, he’s so cute, I will take him if she doesn’t want him, how could they🥹😭

🎪✨Ringmaster yapping again…✨🎪

So, naturally, I whipped up a Part Two because petty is my middle name, and honestly I’m still seething over the whole Enid cheating debacle. Like… what happened over the break?! I was not expecting that from Enid of all people!! And yes Bruno appears out of nowhere, because I was watching the show and if he’s not with Enid, I’m sitting here like: “Who the hell are you?” Or maybe I just conveniently erased him from existence. Also thank you for the likes, truly. I accidentally unleashed Part One into the wild while fighting sleep at 11:49pm, but I’m thrilled you enjoyed my rage-fueled little circus. This Part Two can be enjoyed on its own, but for full context and maximum chaos… I’d recommend stepping into Part One first. The tent remains open, the popcorn is salty, and the Ringmaster’s patience? Nonexistent. Yours in glitter, delusion, and petty theatrics, the Ringmaster

Masterlist Part 1

[Enid POV – That Same Evening]

Enid sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop open but untouched. She’d been trying to write a blog post for her Werewolf Weekly column, but her brain kept circling back to the library. To them.

It was ridiculous. She was over Ajax. She had been the one to end things. And, okay, maybe the cheating thing wasn’t her best moment, but still. She didn’t get to be jealous.

She huffed, scrolling aimlessly. “Totally over him,” she muttered under her breath.

“You’re talking to yourself,” Wednesday’s voice cut in from the armchair. She didn’t look up from the crime scene photographs she was cataloguing.

Enid jumped. “I was just… reminding myself.”

Wednesday finally glanced up. “Of your alleged indifference toward Ajax and YN?”

Enid’s cheeks warmed. “I am indifferent.”

Wednesday arched a brow. “Your pulse says otherwise.”

Enid groaned and flopped back on the bed. “Ugh, you’re the worst.”

“Not nearly as bad as someone lying to herself about caring,” Wednesday said calmly, returning to her file.

[The Next Few Days]

No matter where Enid went, she seemed to accidentally stumble across Ajax and YN together. At first it was in passing seeing them laughing in the quad, or YN leaning against his locker while he grinned at her like she was the only person in the room.

Then it happened again another make-out session, this time in the art studio after hours. Enid froze in the doorway, eyes widening before she bolted.

It became a pattern: she’d catch them tangled up in each other somewhere in a shadowed alcove, the greenhouse, the back rows of the library and she’d turn and leave before they noticed.

But one day, she didn’t get away fast enough.

Enid rounded the corner into an empty hallway and stopped short. Ajax was leaning against the wall, YN pressed against him, his hands roaming like he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

This time, Ajax’s eyes flicked up mid-kiss and caught her.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then, without breaking the kiss, his hands slid down to YN’s thighs. In one smooth motion, he picked her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

He turned sharply, stepping into the shadow of a doorway and out of Enid’s view all in seconds. YN didn’t even register anything unusual, too lost in the moment.

Enid stood frozen for half a second before retreating quickly, her heart pounding.

[Later That Day – Nevermore Grounds]

You were perched on a low stone wall outside, scrolling through your phone, when you caught Enid watching you from across the courtyard. Not lingering, exactly but long enough for you to notice.

When Ajax arrived and sat beside you, you didn’t waste time. “Be honest,” you said, eyes still on your phone. “Are you using me to get back at Enid?”

His head snapped toward you. “What? No.”

You finally looked at him, your voice steady but with the faintest thread of unease. “Because if that’s the plan, you should know I’m not interested in being anyone’s rebound, gorgon.”

Ajax leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m not. I like you. I’m with you because I want to be with you. The whole Enid-seeing-us thing? That’s just… a bonus. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy watching her sweat a little.”

Your gaze narrowed slightly. “Not exactly the reassurance I was aiming for.”

He reached over, curling his hand around yours. “Look yeah, it’s satisfying seeing her realize what she lost. But you? You’re not a replacement. You’re… you.”

For a moment, you just studied him, searching for anything false. Then you gave a slow, regal nod. “Good. Because I don’t compete with ghosts.”

[Ajax’s POV – That Night]

Ajax was lying on his bed, hoodie still on, music in his earbuds playing low. But he wasn’t listening to the song he was replaying the look in YN’s eyes earlier when she’d asked if she was a rebound.

She wasn’t. He knew that.

At first, yeah he’d enjoyed the idea of Enid catching him moving on. Call it petty, call it wounded pride, whatever. But that wasn’t what stuck in his chest now. What stuck was the way YN laughed at his worst jokes, or how she’d call him gorgon in that amused, half-teasing tone like she was letting him in on some private joke. How she walked into a room like she owned it, and somehow made him feel like he belonged there too.

The more he thought about it, the less Enid even factored into the equation. She was background noise now. YN? YN was the point.

[The Next Few Days – Nevermore]

They were practically glued together. Between classes, during lunch, after hours if Ajax was around, YN wasn’t far, and vice versa. The rest of the school had noticed too; whispers followed them down the halls, but neither seemed to care.

They knew each other’s schedules, coffee orders, even the exact point in the day where one of them would need a snack. It was easy shockingly easy.

[After Class – Another “Accidental” Witness]

They’d ducked into one of the smaller study rooms after class, ostensibly to talk, but it hadn’t taken long for talking to turn into kissing.

Ajax’s hands were at your waist, yours looped around his neck, his snakes twitching with restless approval as the kiss deepened.

You caught the movement in your peripheral first Enid, peeking in from the cracked doorway.

You didn’t pull away. In fact, you did the opposite.

Your fingers slid into Ajax’s hairline, deepening the kiss until he let out a low groan that went straight to your spine. You kept your gaze locked on Enid as you did it, letting her see every second before she spun and bolted.

Only then did you break the kiss both of you flushed, breathing hard. He looked at you like you’d just stolen his soul in the best way possible.

“Where were we?” you asked, and before he could answer, you pulled him back in.

[Later That Day – Courtyard]

You found Enid alone on one of the benches, scrolling on her phone like she was trying to burn holes in the screen. She glanced up when you approached, visibly bracing herself.

“Hey,” you said, your tone cool but not outright hostile. “We need to talk.”

Enid straightened, defensive already. “If this is about earlier—”

“It is.” You didn’t give her room to wiggle out. “You’ve been following us. Watching us. Multiple times.”

Her ears went pink. “I haven’t been—”

“Don’t lie. You have.” Your voice stayed even, but the precision in it cut sharper than shouting. “And it’s… sad. Pathetic, even.”

Enid flinched. “Wow. Harsh.”

“Not as harsh as cheating on someone and then acting like the crazy ex who can’t let go,” you said bluntly. “You’ve got Bruno now, right? Shouldn’t you be happy with him instead of sniffing around us?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Yes, it is. You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all me.” You crossed your arms, gaze steady. “You don’t get to torch something and then hover over the ashes like you’re surprised it’s gone.”

Enid’s mouth opened, then closed again. She looked away.

You softened your tone just a hair not much, just enough to make it clear you weren’t trying to destroy her, just stop the behavior. “If you care about him, even as a friend, you’ll let him live his life. With or without me in it. But standing around waiting for us to notice you? It’s beneath you.”

Enid swallowed hard, clearly stung, but didn’t argue this time. You took that as your cue to turn and leave, your gold jewelry glinting in the fading light as you walked away every inch the queen who’d said her piece.

End……

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

The One She Let Go

Season 2, Nevermore Academy {Ajax x reader}

Warning: post-cheating angst, jealousy, implied stalking behavior, make-out scenes (mildly suggestive but not explicit), possessive dynamics, confrontation, blunt language, hurt feelings, mild pettiness, emotional tension, reader-insert, Egyptian-inspired Cleo De-Nile from monster high(the reader/Y/N) fully integrated into Nevermore universe, canon character personalities retained (Wednesday Netflix show), minor interpersonal drama, subtle revenge vibes, snakes being affectionate, mentions of infidelity, confrontation about boundaries, power dynamics in relationships.

🎪✨Ringmaster rambling incoming…✨🎪

I penned this little spectacle because I adore Enid and Ajax truly, I did… but this season? Oh, my heart shattered like cheap carnival glass when I found out she cheated on him(girl what). If I ever got my hands on that man!!! You’d have to pry me off with a crowbar and divine intervention. Have you seen him!!! Ajax, my beloved, my muse, my hypothetical downfall. For this act, I dressed the reader in the silk and gold attitude of Cleo De-Nile from Monster High, because that’s the vision I was chasing under the big top. I tried…oh, I tried to keep them gender neutral, but the Ringmaster occasionally tripped into feminine territory. And though I swore off using “Y/N,” it slipped in here and there when it made narrative sense… because naming the reader felt like pulling the mask off the magician. So… enjoy the chaos. The tent is open, the snakes are charming, and Ajax? He’s still mine. Signed in glitter and delusion, your Ringmaster 🎭🖤

Masterlist Part 2

[In the quad, late afternoon]

The marble courtyard glistened with rain from earlier that day. Ajax was slouched on a bench under the covered walkway, hoodie pulled over his snake-hair, earbuds dangling but not playing anything. His eyes were fixed on the damp cobblestones, expression hollow.

You spotted him instantly. His whole vibe screamed I just had my heart stepped on.

You glided over because someone like you didn’t simply walk. The gold accents in your uniform caught the weak sunlight, and the air around you carried the faint scent of sandalwood and lotus. You didn’t usually stop for anyone, but Ajax looked… ruined.

“Who died?” you asked, tone light but not unkind.

He blinked up, clearly trying to play it cool. “Nobody. Just—” He gave a humorless laugh. “Guess I got dumped. And cheated on. At the same time.”

Your brows arched. “Charming. She must have a death wish.”

Ajax let out a breathy laugh despite himself. “Yeah… Enid.”

You lowered yourself onto the bench, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “You’re taking it well, all things considered. In my family, betrayal is… not taken lightly.”

He smirked faintly. “What, like… cursed scarabs in her bed?”

You tilted your head. “That’s… an option.”

That got him to really laugh just a little but it was enough.

[Over the next few days…]

It became a pattern. You’d find him between classes, sometimes with a coffee in hand, sometimes with sarcastic commentary on whatever gorgon gossip was floating around. You learned he still used his phone’s camera to check his snakes, and he learned you could summon tiny golden scorpions to braid your own hair.

Somewhere between laughing at his self-deprecating jokes and him teasing you about your “walking museum exhibit” aesthetic, there was a shift. His smiles became longer. Yours became genuine.

[Three days later somewhere in Nevermore library, quiet corner]

You were perched on the armrest of his chair, reading over his shoulder, your jeweled headband catching the lamplight.

“Your hair smells like—” Ajax started, then paused, realizing he might be oversharing.

“Like what?” you asked, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion.

“Like… expensive.” His gaze lingered a beat too long.

You let a slow, knowing smile spread across your face. “Good answer.”

The air between you thickened. His hand moved to your waist without either of you deciding it should, and then your mouth was on his warm, eager, and tinged with the adrenaline of finally. His snakes shifted restlessly, curling in what you suspected was their version of approval.

You shifted closer, fingers curling into the front of his hoodie. His other hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. The kiss deepened, your breath mingling, his thumb brushing your jaw…..

“Oh! Uh….sorry!”

You broke apart just in time to see Enid standing at the end of the aisle, eyes wide, cheeks red.

Ajax froze. You didn’t.

Enid stammered, “I—uh—forgot my… uh…notes!!! Yeah. My notes. Gotta go!” She spun and all but sprinted away.

Ajax opened his mouth to say something, but you simply placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him forward again.

“Where were we?” you murmured against his lips, before kissing him again slower this time, like you had all the time in the world.

[Enid’s POV]

Her sneakers squeaked against the polished floor as she speed-walked out of the library. Her heart was racing, which was ridiculous. She had no right…no reason…. to care.

By the time she made it to her dorm, she’d convinced herself it wasn’t jealousy. Just… surprise. Right?

Unfortunately for her, Wednesday Addams was sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading a case file.

“You’re breathing like you just ran from a crime scene,” Wednesday said without looking up.

“I just…..uh….saw Ajax. And YN. Kissing.”

Wednesday’s gaze lifted, expression unreadable. “You told me you were over him.”

“I am over him,” Enid said too quickly. “Totally. Like, ice cold. Zero feelings. Just….wow, that was… fast.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And yet you’re reporting it to me as though it were a matter of national interest. Which, unless YN was also plotting his untimely demise between kisses, it is not.”

Enid crossed her arms. “I’m just saying, it’s… weird, seeing them like that.”

“Strange how you never comment on things you’re truly indifferent about,” Wednesday replied, returning to her file.

Enid flopped onto her bed with a groan. “Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“And you,” Wednesday said without glancing up, “are not nearly as over him as you claim.”

[Back in the Library Corner]

The moment your lips were on his again, Ajax’s brain did that short-circuit thing it always did around you now.

For days, you’d been this sharp, radiant constant cutting through the fog of betrayal Enid had left him in. Now, with your fingers curled in his hoodie and your perfume curling through his senses, it hit him just how badly he’d wanted this.

His snakes shifted restlessly, one brushing your temple like it was curious, another brushed against your forehead like a small peck and another dipping toward your shoulder. He didn’t even try to stop them.

“Not gonna lie,” he murmured between kisses, voice low and a little rough, “you’re kind of distracting.”

“That was the idea,” you replied, a satisfied little smirk in your tone before you kissed him again slower, but deeper, like you wanted to see if you could make him forget his own name. Spoiler: you could.

Every time you pulled back a fraction, his hands followed one gripping your waist, the other splayed across your lower back like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

He’d never been kissed like this before. With Enid, it had been sweet, warm, easy… but this? This was molten. It was the kind of kiss that made you not care who might walk in next.

The faint sound of footsteps somewhere in the stacks snapped him halfway back to reality. “We should probably—”

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his again before he could finish, your voice a silky whisper against his mouth. “We probably won’t.”

And just like that, he stopped thinking entirely.

Eventually, you pulled back not because you wanted to, but because breathing was still a thing mortals had to do. Ajax leaned his head back against the chair, eyes half-lidded, trying to piece his brain back together.

His snakes were still twitching like they were in on some joke he wasn’t fully processing yet. One even brushed the side of your jaw before curling back, almost reluctantly.

You sat perched on the armrest, one hand still idly toying with the zipper of his hoodie, looking like you belonged there.

“Wow,” he said finally, a little dazed.

You raised an elegant brow. “Articulate.”

He grinned, but it faded into something softer… more real. “I didn’t think I was gonna… y’know… feel like this about anyone again. Not for a while, anyway.”

“Feel like what?” you asked, tilting your head, your tone teasing but your eyes searching.

“Like I want to spend every free minute with them. Like… I’m not just getting over something… I’m actually into someone.” His gaze dropped for a second, then came back up. “Into you.”

You let the corners of your mouth curve upward in that slow, knowing way that always made him feel like you were five steps ahead of him. “Good. Would’ve been awkward if you weren’t.”

He laughed really laughed and for the first time in days, it wasn’t tinged with bitterness.

Somewhere in the distance, the library clock chimed, pulling you both back to reality just a little. You slid off the armrest, smoothing your skirt, but his hand caught yours before you could step away.

“Hey,” he said, thumb brushing your knuckles, his voice quieter now. “I’m glad you found me that day. Just… wanted you to know that.”

You squeezed his hand lightly, your gold rings catching the lamplight. “You’re welcome, gorgon.”

To be continued…

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

What Dating Joo Seok-hoon Is Like (x Reader)

This is based on what I picked from rewatching the show again, I tired to keep his personality that same but i may have forgotten a few things but I will fix it later, if I’m wrong in anyway just let me perish at this point, signed Ringmaster🫠

The show is a K-drama called Penthouse, I highly recommend you to watch it it’s good.

Masterlist

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Initial Stage – Before He Trusts You Fully

(Cold exterior, emotionally guarded, growing curiosity)

🕴️ He doesn’t approach you first. Even if he’s intrigued by you, he watches from a distance. His expressions stay neutral, but you’ll feel his gaze linger a second longer than everyone else’s.

🕴️ He tests your reactions. Makes subtle comments to see if you flinch, fold, or fire back. He’s used to fake people so he pokes at your values to see if they’re real. If you hold your ground, his interest deepens.

🕴️ Protective, quietly. If someone insults you, he doesn’t jump in like a knight. Instead, he makes that person disappear socially spreading rumors in the background or using his influence to make them irrelevant.

🕴️ Minimal physical touch. He doesn’t initiate much just small, almost accidental grazes of your fingers, walking on the outside of the pavement, or lending you his jacket with no comment.

🕴️ He rarely texts first. But if you don’t reply, he’ll read and reread your last message. The moment he does text, it’s short and blunt: “Where are you.” or “You didn’t show up.” never asking directly, but always implying that he noticed and cared.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Once You’re Official – The Quiet Shift

(Still reserved, but deeply loyal and fiercely protective)

🫧 You’re one of the only people he lets touch his piano. If you ask about a piece he’s playing, he’ll act dismissive but secretly he’s elated you care. Sometimes, he’ll wordlessly play something softer when you’re near, as a private gift.

🫧 He walks you to and from school. Even if he’s late, even if it means dragging his driver out of bed. It’s non-negotiable. If you argue, he’ll just say “I don’t like not knowing where you are.”

🫧 If you’re cold, his jacket is already on your shoulders. If you try to give it back, he looks genuinely confused. “You’re the one who’s cold.”

🫧 No PDA in public, but the second you’re alone, his affection becomes more obvious. He pulls you close when you’re talking, strokes your hair while you’re distracted, kisses your temple before bed.

🫧 He doesn’t say “I love you” often, but when he does, it’s after moments of vulnerability like when you defend him, cry in front of him, or comfort him after a nightmare. He whispers it like a confession, barely audible: “I love you… Don’t leave me.”

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

When He’s Jealous

(It’s intense he doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it burns.)

🤭 Silent tension. If another guy talks to you, Seok-hoon’s jaw clenches. He stares not at you, but through the guy like he’s calculating all the ways to remove him without consequence.

🤭 Passive-aggressive silence. He won’t argue with you. He’ll go quiet, drop his gaze, and walk away. It takes hours sometimes a day for him to admit: “I didn’t like how he looked at you.”

🤭 Possessive, but never controlling. He won’t tell you not to talk to someone, but he will make it uncomfortable for them to approach you again.

🤭 If you’re patient with him, he’ll admit the fear behind the jealousy: “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not broken.”

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

His Soft Side (Only You See It)

🕴️ He has nightmares. When he wakes up sweating and shaken, you’re the only one who can calm him. He won’t tell you what they’re about, but he clutches you tighter and buries his face into your neck like he’s anchoring himself.

🕴️ He sings to you when you’re sad. Barely above a whisper. Only if you’re crying or having a bad day. It’s not perfect but it’s raw, intimate, and only for you.

🕴️ He doesn’t like birthdays because they remind him of his broken family. But he’ll still remember yours down to the minute and make it perfect, no matter what it takes.

🕴️ He lets you touch the scar on his chest. He doesn’t flinch anymore. He lets you kiss it, trace it. You make it feel like proof of survival, not shame.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

How He Loves You

Not loud. Not obvious. But permanent.

• He makes you part of his world. Introduces you to his sister, takes you to his secret hideaways, lets you see his private side all the things no one else gets access to.

• Your opinions matter more than anyone’s. If you disapprove of something, he’ll actually stop and think about it. You’re his conscience when his anger gets the best of him.

• He writes music with you in mind. It’s not titled after you. You’ll never hear him say it outright. But you know it when you hear it.

• He’d burn the world for you but he hopes he never has to. He doesn’t want you to see how dark he can really be. You’re the reason he tries to stay gentle.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Little Details He’ll Never Admit

🫧 Keeps a photo of you on his phone’s lock screen. It’s not visible to anyone else it’s on a hidden app folder, where he stares at it when he feels alone.

🫧 Steals your hair ties and keeps them around his wrist not even to use them, just to feel like he’s close to you.

🫧 Buys things you casually mention needing. They just appear in your bag or locker the next day, no note.

🫧 Hates when you cry. Doesn’t know what to say, but he’ll stay beside you in silence, holding your hand like it’s his only way to help.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

❖ Crimson Thread ❖

Zero Kiryu x Reader

Warning: reader is too cool for the night class, zero kiryu has feelings, cross academy, night class dorms & academy grounds, emotionally constipated zero, gn reader, kaname gets ignored (as he should, but I still like him), post-Yuuki choosing Kaname but she’s not vampire yet and kinda doesn’t remember much, idk, minor canon character shade, flirty reader, pureblood reader, vampire blood sharing (consensual), let me know if I have missed anything.

🎪✨This one was yanked straight from the smoke and mirrors of my unhinged little braincell fuelled by episodes watched, chapters devoured, and a frankly concerning amount of emotional investment. Listen. This man? I ADORE him. He deserves far more than the dusty ending they tried to hand him. Settle down? Not while I’m still out here shaking my metaphorical hoop skirt in protest. So I stitched this together with delusion, glitter, and the last shreds of my dignity. Enjoy the chaos. Signed, your ever-spiralling Ringmaster 🎭🖤

Masterlist

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Moonlight spilled across the gothic spires of Cross Academy, silver and unyielding. The chill of early morning clung to the dewy grass, and in the sky above, the last stars faded reluctantly. Another night had passed at the boundary between two worlds the Day Class and the Night Class. Humans and vampires. And in the middle of it all… Zero Kiryu stood at the edge, always watching.

“Keep in line,” he said sharply, his usual cold tone brooking no nonsense as the Night Class students exited the school building.

They were immaculate in their tailored white uniforms, the crest of the Kurans stitched proudly into the fabric like a warning label to the world. At their head was Kaname Kuran, ever poised, ever revered. And trailing not far behind him, laughing quietly among themselves, were his devoted followers: Takuma Ichijo, the ever-smiling diplomat; Aidou Hanabusa, with his flirtatious spark; Ruka Souen, graceful and always watching Kaname; and others(whom I can’t not be asked to type out) each more beautiful and dangerous than the last.

And somewhere within their ranks… was you.

A pureblood. But not one who lingered near Kaname’s side. Not one who swooned over his every breath or bowed at his command. No, you kept your distance, drifting along at the edge of the group like a wisp of fog refusing to be caught. A noble from abroad, transferred under unusual circumstances, and someone the other Night Class students couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, Kiryu,” you called, voice smooth, almost teasing, as the group slowed near the school gates.

Zero, dressed in the black Day Class uniform with its silver accents, didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at you. His expression was the same unreadable mask it always was eyes dulled like ash, jaw tight, posture military-straight.

But he heard you. Of course he did.

A flicker of amusement curved your lips. “Still ignoring me in public, huh?” you murmured just loud enough for only him to hear.

Ichijo glanced between the two of you, brows raised in quiet interest, while Aidou scoffed under his breath. “Tch. Another one flirting with the Guardian,” he muttered. “What do they even see in him…”

Ruka said nothing, though her eyes narrowed briefly.

Kaname’s gaze, however, was the most pointed of all. He stared at you in silence, as if trying to puzzle out a riddle that refused to make sense. You, a pureblood, not acknowledging him? Ignoring his direct eye contact? Not offering even a polite nod?

It unsettled him.

“[Y/N],” he called smoothly. “You’ve been not respectful recently.”

You didn’t stop walking.

“I asked you a question,” Kaname added, with a subtle authority woven through the calm silk of his voice.

Still, no reply.

Your eyes drifted to the sky. “Wasn’t really a question,” you said without looking back, tone light. “More like a statement in a suit.”

Takuma stifled a laugh. Kaname’s jaw tensed.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

From a short distance, Yuuki Cross her brown Day Class uniform blazer slightly rumpled from chasing off students earlier stood beside Zero, watching the interaction unfold. She had noticed the way you sometimes lingered behind the rest of the vampires. How you never bowed to Kaname. How Zero never glared at you the way he glared at the others.

And how your eyes amused, teasing, sharp always found him.

Yuuki frowned, hands tightening around her Prefect baton. “They’re weird,” she said under her breath, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you think they’re weird, Zero?”

He didn’t answer.

He just turned and began walking ahead as the Night Class passed through the gate, his job was done.

You followed them with your usual lazy grace, but not before your eyes met his brief, sharp, and filled with something unspoken. A flicker. A flash.

Yuuki watched, frowning deeper. She knew Zero. She knew his expressions. That… hadn’t been his usual empty-eyed stare. That had been something else.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Later That Night

The sterile lamp of Zero’s dorm room cast long shadows across the floor. The silence was heavy thick with the scent of gun oil, old paper, and faint blood.

You were seated on his bed, legs crossed, sleeves rolled back, exposing the inside of your wrist.

“You’re hungry,” you said softly. “I can tell.”

“I’m fine,” Zero muttered, brushing past you as he pulled his jacket off. His voice was hoarse.

“No, you’re not.”

He paused in the doorway, head bowed.

You stood and walked over, gently taking his hand. You didn’t push. You never did. That was what confused him the most about you. You didn’t try to change him. Didn’t act like his nature was something to be ‘healed’ or shunned.

“I know what it’s like to fight what you are,” you whispered. “But you don’t have to with me.”

Zero hesitated… and then leaned in.

The bite was swift. Controlled. You barely flinched as his fangs slid in he never lost control around you. His grip on your arm trembled, and his breath hitched, but he didn’t sink too deep. Just enough.

When he pulled back, there was blood on his lips.

You reached up and gently wiped it with your thumb, smiling faintly.

“Better?” you asked.

His silver-lavender eyes stared into yours, that storm behind them never quite fading but for once, it was quieter.

“…Yeah,” he said finally. “Thanks.”

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

The Next Morning – Escort Duty Again

Yuuki had been watching for it.

This time, when you winked at Zero and tilted your head in that lazy, teasing way, she saw it. The twitch of his mouth. Barely a movement but it was there.

She almost dropped her baton.

Aidou blinked. “Wait, was that a smile?”

Ichijo chuckled. “I think it was.”

Ruka scowled.

Kaname’s gaze flicked between you and Zero with sharp calculation.

Still, Zero said nothing. He merely turned away, continuing his duties as if nothing had happened. His expression settled back into neutrality. Business as usual.

You slipped into the ranks of the Night Class once more, completely unbothered.

And Yuuki?

Yuuki huffed, staring after you, eyes narrowed with a frown she didn’t fully understand.

“Something’s not right with them,” she mumbled. “Why do they act like that with him?”

But Zero didn’t explain. And neither did you.

Because your relationship wasn’t a secret.

It was just… yours.

End.…….

🎪✨Ringmaster yapping… as always.✨🎪

I was absolutely soaked with excitement (…in more ways than one who said that?? Not me, I’m just the NPC). Anyway this one was a delightful mess to write. I twirled, I cackled, I spiritually combusted. There will be a different version later, naturally, and yes, I’ll be dragging some of my favorite disasters…uh, characters into the tent with me. But for now, I’ve got a date with some diabolical lovers and several questionable choices, so this little act is on pause. The circus never sleeps. Signed with glitter and menace, your NPC Ringmaster 🎭🖤

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

MIA Boyfriend and a Silent Treatment.

Genderbend Male!Clover x Reader,

Warning: This post contains scenes of emotional neglect, silent treatment, and one himbo boyfriend who vanishes more than a Snapchat message. If you’ve ever been ghosted by someone too pretty to stay mad at, proceed with caution. I’m not responsible if you fall for a tall, fashionable idiot with commitment issues and perfect cheekbones. If this content upsets you, you’re free to leave my blog, no hard feelings 💋 Signed, The Ringmaster

Masterlist Sam Alex

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Your boyfriend, Clover Ewing, was everything the movies promised a boyfriend should be tall, charming, ridiculously handsome, and always smelling like he just stepped out of a Gucci ad. His shoulder-length blonde hair was always perfectly styled, his jawline could cut glass, and his fashion sense was the kind that made people stare a little too long in the hallway.

He was also chronically late.

And mysteriously unavailable.

And had the worst excuses ever.

🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣

“Babe, I swear, I was stuck at the…uh…mall. Yeah. The escalators broke down and I couldn’t leave.”

You blinked slowly at him from across the café table. “Escalators.”

“Yup. Totally malfunctioned. I was trapped between floors like a like a prisoner of fashion.”

“Clover. There are stairs.”

He paused, eyes wide, lips parted in a frozen smile.

You stood up.

“Y/N! Wait—” He scrambled after you, nearly knocking his chair over. “I got you your favorite croissant! It’s filled with matcha cream! You love matcha cream!”

You left him standing there with a pastry in his hand and a confused, panicking expression on his beautiful face.

🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣

It wasn’t the first time. You didn’t expect a boyfriend to be available 24/7, but Clover would disappear for hours, sometimes whole days, and give you nothing but vague, flaky excuses. You weren’t clingy. You were understanding. But you were also not stupid.

Worse? He never even texted when he was gone. You were starting to feel like a side quest in your own relationship.

So, for the first time, you did what every girlfriend eventually considers: you gave him the silent treatment.

Clover noticed immediately.

At school, when he leaned over your desk with a pouty smile and said, “Hey babe, I wore that jacket you love,” you just nodded and looked away.

At lunch, when he tried to sneak an arm around your waist and kiss your cheek, you moved your chair and said, “I’m not hungry.”

And at his locker, when he handed you a tiny velvet box with a necklace shaped like a mini lipstick tube (inside joke between you two), you took it wordlessly and walked away.

His jaw dropped. Sam and Alex (are male’s in this au) whistled low.

“Dude,” Alex said, “she’s actually mad this time.”

“I know,” Clover groaned, banging his forehead against the locker. “And I don’t blame her! I’ve been a bad boyfriend.”

“You think?” Sam muttered.

“I can’t even tell her what I’m doing when I disappear,” he whined. “Because I’m saving the world! But if I say that, she’ll think I’m lying or worse trying to make myself sound cool!”

Alex clapped his back. “You’ll figure it out. Just talk to her without making it about you.”

“Do you even know me?” he gasped.

🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣

Later that day, he showed up at your doorstep without warning and without his usual designer gear. He was in a hoodie and sweats. Hair a little messy. A backpack on one shoulder. And flowers in his hand.

Real ones. Not glitter-dipped roses or plastic-scented perfumes. These were wildflowers. A little crushed. Probably bought from a gas station. But they smelled…real.

“Y/N,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “I know I’ve been ditching you a lot. And I can’t tell you why. I want to tell you. But I can’t. I know how stupid that sounds. But I swear it’s not about not trusting you or not caring.”

You opened your door wider, crossing your arms.

“I miss you,” he said honestly. “Every time I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. Even when I’m… uh…. busy. And I hate that I can’t call or explain. But I swear, you’re the best thing in my life. And I never wanna mess that up.”

“…Even more than fashion week?”

He looked up with a dramatic gasp. “Don’t joke about that, babe. You’re not more. You’re above fashion week.”

That earned a small laugh from you.

“Come in,” you said finally. “But you’re making me tea. And explaining why you smelled like smoke and burnt hair the other day.”

“I can’t explain,” he said quickly. “But I can lie very convincingly while steeping chamomile.”

You rolled your eyes but tugged him inside anyway.

Later, curled up under a blanket while Clover combed your hair with his fingers and murmured dramatic, heartfelt nothings like, “I would dive into a pit of snakes for you, babe. A cheap pit. With, like, poorly styled snakes.”

You didn’t care where he went, or why he wouldn’t tell you.

As long as he came back to you like this soft, silly, and sincere you could forgive him.

…Even if he still smelled suspiciously like hairspray and explosives.

You: still unaware your boyfriend’s a spy.

Him: still totally whipped.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

You Keep Leaving… So I Stopped Waiting.

Genderbent Male!Alex x Reader

Warning: Contains boyfriend fluff, emotional miscommunication, and the softest athletic disaster of a man who doesn’t know how to lie but does it anyway (poorly). If you’re sensitive to feelings of abandonment, sweet boys crawling through windows, or guys who panic-buy snacks instead of handling conflict like adults, be kind to yourself. You can scroll past. I respect your boundaries. Signed, The Ringmaster

Here is an Alex version next should be clover🤭

Masterlist Sam Clover

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Your boyfriend, Alex, was sunshine in human form. He was sweet, upbeat, always down to try new things, and had a laugh that could melt the frostiest day. People liked him. They gravitated toward him. He was that rare kind of guy who could wear orange sneakers, a hoodie with flames on it, and still somehow pull it off like a magazine ad.

And you loved him.

But being in love with him was starting to hurt.

🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅

“Y/N, I promise I’ll explain later! I just have to go!”

That’s what he’d said last night.

And last week.

And three other times this month.

You stood outside the movie theater in your cutest outfit, holding two tickets and a heart that felt just a little more bruised than before.

He didn’t even text this time.

So you decided to go cold.

No texts. No calls. No casual meetups between classes. No post-practice smoothies together.

And when he jogged up to you at your locker the next day, sweaty from soccer, that usual dorky grin on his face like nothing was wrong you didn’t even look up.

“Y/N!” he panted. “I missed you! I’m so sorry about yesterday, I swear, I was stuck in…. uh…. traffic! Like really bad so bad it was international!”

You didn’t respond.

His smile faltered. “You…mad at me?”

You shut your locker quietly. “I’m just done guessing where you disappear to. I deserve better.”

His mouth opened but no words came out.

🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅

Alex didn’t show up the next day.

Or the day after that.

And for someone like him the always-there, clingy-in-a-cute-way, let’s-match-our-socks-today type it was deafening.

You started to worry. Had you overdone it? Had you actually lost him?

Until…..

THUD.

You flinched as something hit your bedroom window. You rushed to open it.

There stood Alex in the bushes, hoodie half-zipped, hair windblown, and arms full of… sports drinks and candy?

“What are you doing?!” you hissed.

“I panicked and bought snacks,” he said seriously. “Also I missed you. A lot. Like, a really irrational amount for just two days.”

You blinked. “So you broke into my yard?”

“Yes. But look,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled note, “I wrote down everything I wanted to say. Because when I see you I forget how to talk like a functional person and start saying things like ‘international traffic.’ Which just to clarify… was not a good excuse.”

“…Go on.”

He cleared his throat dramatically, straightening the note.

“Dear Y/N: I suck. Like really bad. And not in the cute romantic comedy way. In the ‘I left you hanging too many times’ way. You deserve more than dumb excuses and vague vanishings. I can’t tell you where I go. Not because I don’t trust you but because I literally can’t. But what I can tell you is that every second I’m not with you, I wish I was. And I think about you constantly. And if I lost you over this… I’d feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Like, bigger than the guy who tried to grill soup. I saw that on the news once. Horrifying.”

You stared at him. “Alex…”

He folded the note. “I’m not gonna pretend like I don’t mess up. I do. A lot. But I don’t want you thinking I don’t care. Because I do. I care so much it scares me sometimes.”

“…You really bought all those snacks just to say sorry?”

“I panicked,” he repeated. “And you get weird when you’re mad. You didn’t even blink at me yesterday. It was terrifying.”

You snorted, finally laughing.

“…Come inside,” you said. (I’m sorry I’m really immature sometimes🤭🤭)

He beamed, climbing in through the window with alarming athleticism.

Later, you curled up on your bed, sipping from one of the ridiculous neon sports drinks he brought, while Alex traced his fingers over your arm, all calm and content.

“I still wish you’d tell me where you go sometimes,” you said softly.

“I wish I could,” he whispered back. “But for now… just know I always come back to you.”

You nodded, still none the wiser that your sweet, goofy boyfriend was secretly fighting evil underground with gadgets, lasers, and occasional disguises.

But he didn’t need you to know.

He just needed you to stay.

You: still unaware your boyfriend’s a world-saving spy.

Him: would take a missile to the face for you and still bring snacks.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

You Disappeared Again So I Shut You Out.

Genderbent Male!Sam x Reader

Warning: Reader is unaware he’s a spy, Emotional angst → intellectual fluff, emotionally distant behavior, logical apologies, and one overly formal nerd boyfriend who handles romance like it’s a thesis defense. If being treated like a high value priority by a redheaded genius who still somehow breaks your heart triggers you, I understand completely.

🎪✨Pulled this one straight from the glitter-stained trenches where the other two are still cackling in the dark corners of the tent🕴️. Delusion? Oh, absolutely. Enjoy the show. Please exit the tent whenever you need. Your peace matters more than my delusions.✨ Signed, your ever-unreliable Ringmaster 🎭🖤

Masterlist Alex Clover

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Your boyfriend, Sam, was brilliant. And not the type to brag about it either he was just…effortlessly competent.

He tutored calculus like it was casual conversation, debated teachers without being obnoxious, and somehow managed to look good while doing it all. Red hair always perfectly combed, green eyes sharp behind those square-cut glasses he wore when reading, and a style that blended prep and minimalism with just enough mystery to make people curious.

And you were lucky enough to call him yours.

Or…you used to feel lucky.

Until he started vanishing.

📚📚📚📚📚📚

At first, it was little things.

“I can’t make it tonight big project deadline.”

Then it was:

“I had to leave early, sorry. Something came up.”

And eventually:

“I’ll explain later, I promise.”

But later never came.

He never gave real answers. Just calm apologies and vague assurances like, “You’ll understand one day.”

You weren’t needy. You weren’t dramatic. But you were human.

And he was hurting you.

So you did what you hadn’t done in your entire relationship with Sam.

You went cold.

No good morning texts. No asking if he’d eat lunch with you. No calls at night to hear him nerd out about the psychology of group behavior (which you loved, by the way).

And Sam? He noticed. Instantly.

“Y/N,” he said one afternoon, cornering you just outside your class, “have I done something to upset you?”

You looked him in the eye, unblinking. “You left me alone three times this week without an explanation. What do you think?”

“…I had a situation,” he said carefully.

“A situation?” you echoed. “Sam, you always have a situation. And you never tell me what it is. You don’t trust me enough to tell me anything. So why should I keep waiting for you?”

That flicker of emotion in his eyes hurt, but muted was the first crack in his always-composed demeanor.

“…I see,” he said softly. “I deserve that.”

And then he walked away.

You expected him to follow you. Call. Show up at your window with a monologue or flowers or even a pie chart about his feelings.

But he didn’t.

Because Sam, unlike the others, respected boundaries.

Even when they hurt.

You didn’t hear from him for two full days.

No texts. No eye contact. No lingering glances across the school hallway. He disappeared from your life the way he always did but this time, he didn’t return.

Until the third night.

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Knock knock.

You opened the front door to see Sam standing there in a dark turtleneck and navy coat, his hair slightly windswept, a manila folder in one hand, and what looked like… homemade chocolate chip cookies in the other?

“…Are you trying to bribe me with snacks?” you asked flatly.

“No,” he said. “I’m trying to earn back your time with data.”

You blinked.

He handed you the folder.

Inside were printed pages he had literally organized bullet points on everything he wanted to say. With footnotes.

“I understand why you’re upset,” he began. “You’re right. I’ve been emotionally evasive and logistically unreliable. My inability to disclose where I go has made you feel secondary. That’s not acceptable. You deserve clarity and consistency, not vague disappearances and empty apologies.”

You opened your mouth, but he raised one finger.

“Please allow me to continue. I’ve also included a handwritten apology letter, your favorite snacks, and a list of things I plan to do to rebuild your trust itemised. But if you’d prefer I leave you alone, I will. Permanently.”

You stared at him.

Then down at the folder.

Then at the slightly overbaked cookies.

“…Did you make these?”

He nodded once. “The recipe was from a culinary chemistry site. I added more brown sugar. I remembered you like them slightly chewy.”

That was your breaking point.

You exhaled, stepping aside. “Come in before you freeze.”

He entered, quietly setting down the cookies like they were fragile evidence.

Later that night, sitting on your bed with the folder open in your lap and Sam tentatively brushing his fingers against yours, you sighed.

“I still don’t get where you go all the time.”

“I know.”

“And I still don’t believe ‘I’ll explain someday’ is fair.”

“It’s not,” he admitted. “But it’s all I can offer. I just want you to know it’s not lies. Just…very complicated truths.”

“…As long as you keep coming back to me like this,” you said, “with cookies, bullet points, and all that annoying honesty I guess I can wait.”

He smiled.

Not the polite one he gave teachers or the smug one he wore during debates but a soft, relieved smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

You: still completely unaware your boyfriend is secretly a high-level international spy with nanotech in his watch.

Him: now back in your good graces, cuddling you like you’re the one puzzle he never wants to solve just hold.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Ashes and Circuits

Spies in disguises (Killian) x Wife!/Husband!/GN!Reader (Y/N)

Warning: angst, emotional tension, deep love, and conflict, Emotional angst, Soft moments with a morally grey cyborg husband, Mentions of trauma, grief, and revenge, Reader is married to a villain and not mad about it, “He’s a war criminal but he makes me tea” energy, Killian still loves you but he’s on his villain arc, Domestic tension with emotional tenderness, Bittersweet love + unhinged loyalty, Reader’s not dumb she just loves her broken man 🥲, Kisses with mechanical hands 🤖❤️‍🔥, “If he kills the president that’s between him and God” vibes, Mentally unwell but emotionally devoted, fluff in you squint hard enough

So… I saw an edit. Of that man(yes him). And suddenly, the long-buried crush I thought I’d locked in a velvet-lined coffin with iron chains and a dramatic monologue? Yeah. He kicked the door down in 4K(the door was opened for him… who said that). I had no choice. None(I totally did). The gremlins in my brain lit the match, and I let the tent burn. So here it is my full descent into dramatic delusion, gift-wrapped and unhinged.

🎭 With love and zero regret, The Ringmaster 🖤

Masterlist

Before the explosion, before the synthetic arm, before the revenge campaign that painted him as a ghost in the intelligence community Killian had been a man.

Not soft, never that, but human.

And he had you.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Then — Before the War

You met Killian in the humdrum rhythm of intelligence life, not as a field agent but a system analyst. Your job was quiet. His wasn’t. He was already rising fast, sharp as a blade, feared in the room even when he didn’t speak.

But you saw something others didn’t the way his jaw clenched when someone questioned his logic, the ghost of a smile when a plan went flawlessly, the rare flicker of doubt in his steel-blue eyes after a risky mission.

He wasn’t the kind of man who flirted.

He observed. He lingered.

And when he asked you to dinner, it wasn’t over drinks it was with the sentence:

“I trust you. That’s rare for me.”

You married in secret. He liked things clean, untraceable. You liked your privacy. You were his peace, and he was your fire.

He held you like he was trying not to burn you.

🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾

Now — After the Fire

You didn’t hear from Killian for nearly a year after the incident in Seoul. One day, his name was on the mission briefing MIA. Presumed dead.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You just stared at the screen where his profile was flagged as “deceased” and felt like your lungs collapsed.

Until the lights flickered in your flat six months later.

And he was there.

No longer the man who shared your bed in hushed breaths and slow mornings. His left arm was metal sleek, weaponized, unnaturally precise. His eye glowed faintly with a digital core behind the iris. He stood taller, colder, like the man you loved had been reforged in grief and fire.

“Y/N.”

Your knees buckled before your brain caught up. “Killian?”

He caught you. His touch stronger, colder. But still his.

“I thought you were dead,” you breathed, clutching his coat like it was the only thing anchoring you to Earth.

“I was,” he said quietly. “But they made sure I came back.”

You cupped his face, eyes tracing the scar down his jaw. “What did they do to you?”

Killian smiled, bitter and cracked. “They turned me into what they fear.”

🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾

It felt like living with a ghost

He didn’t sleep next to you anymore not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. His body was half-machine now, half-weapon. Nights were restless. Sometimes you woke to find him standing at the window, the red glow of his cybernetic eye casting a halo on the glass.

“You’re still angry,” you whispered one night.

“I have to be,” he said without looking at you. “If I let go of that… what’s left of me?”

You stepped into his space, placing your palm on his chest, over the spot where his heart still beat, slow and stubborn. “Me. I’m left. I’ve always been.”

His lips twitched. “You think love can fix this?”

“No. But I think it can remind you who you were.”

But he’s not going back

Killian didn’t stop his plan.

He still pursued his revenge against Sterling and the agency, deploying drones, outmaneuvering global governments, playing chess while the world scrambled to play checkers.

But he always came back to you.

Sometimes it was just a message on your secure channel:

“Still breathing. Still yours.”

Sometimes it was him, in your flat at 3AM, bleeding from a shoulder wound, his mechanical fingers twitching as you stitched him up. He never winced. But he never stopped watching you.

He loved you.

God, he loved you in the way broken men love the things they think they don’t deserve.

But love didn’t replace his grief.

Love didn’t erase the screams of his team that night, or the way the agency left them to die.

“I can’t forgive them,” he said once, his voice low and deadly.

“I didn’t ask you to,” you said softly. “But don’t lose yourself to it. Don’t make them right about you.”

His cybernetic hand brushed your cheek gentle, trembling. “If there’s anything left of me to save, it’s because of you.”

🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾

The Tragedy

You never tried to stop him not fully. You knew who he was. You married the man, not the mission. But now the mission was the man.

And that was the quiet heartbreak.

He was Killian. He was yours.

But he belonged to the fire now.

And some nights, when he kissed you like he was trying to remember what being human felt like, you knew you might be the last good thing left in him.

He may have turned into a villain.

But he was your villain.

And until the day his war ended by victory or defeat you’d be waiting in the silence after the smoke cleared.

For the man you married.

End….

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Hello ringmaster I have a request for you my request is a pet HC basically caelan and Vince (separate) gets a pet of your choice for not only the reader but for the kids as well every family needs a pet obviously you don't have to do this if you don't want to it just came off of the top of my head and I hope you have a wonderful day.

Sorry for taking a while, today is my BIRTHDAY so I have been preparing to celebrate…. Anyways here is your HC. I did this when I was like half awake and I can’t bring myself to rewrite it because I have school and I can’t make up my mind on the pets. So I settled and I kinda forgot to post it…. turns out I save it instead lol.@coolgirl32 don’t hate me

Masterlist

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Caelan Kiramman Family Pet HC

Pet: A Sleek, Pure-White Borzoi Dog named “Regal”

Why Caelan chose it:

• He wanted a calm, elegant companion that wouldn’t cause chaos or disrupt the estate.

• Borzois are graceful, intelligent, and dignified like him.

• He presents the dog to you on your birthday with a velvet ribbon and a handwritten note that simply says: “For the one who deserves loyalty that matches her grace.”

How Regal fits into the family:

• Regal is… the most noble, dramatic dog imaginable. Moves like a duchess. Lays across the furniture like a fainting queen.

• Elira (eldest daughter) trains him to follow complex commands in three languages. She insists he be included in all formal events.

• Maris (youngest daughter) constantly tries to dress him in little hats. He tolerates it… barely.

• Caelan walks Regal with absolute seriousness, like he’s escorting a diplomat. Meanwhile, you secretly sneak him table scraps.

Caelan Quote: “A Kiramman’s hound should reflect the house. Composed. Fierce only when provoked.”

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Vince Family Pet HC

Pet: A Scruffy, Three-Legged Pitbull-Mix Rescue named “Chomper”

Why Vince chose it:

• He saw the dog limping in an alley in Zaun and immediately said, “That’s me in mutt form. He’s coming home.”

• The kids had always wanted a pet, and Vince figured, “Hell, if we can raise chaos goblins, we can handle a dog.”

• You were horrified at first… until Chomper licked your hand and leaned into your leg like you were home.

How Chomper fits into the family:

• Chomper is loyal, mischievous, and unkillably tough. Missing a leg, covered in old scars, but still outruns every kid in the yard.

• Roxy (eldest daughter) trains him to snatch snacks and fake faint on command. She tries to dye his ears pink to “match Papa.”

• Juna (middle daughter) reads to him under a blanket fort every weekend and swears he understands her better than anyone.

• Kier (baby boy) uses him as a pillow. Chomper doesn’t move for hours.

Vince Quote: “Chomper’s family. Just like you lot. Bit ugly. Little rough. But he’s ours.”

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Bonus: The Pet Meet-Up (If the timelines ever crossed)

• Regal and Chomper absolutely hate each other.

• Regal treats Chomper like filth. Chomper wants to bite Regal’s regal ass.

• The kids are living for the drama. Roxy and Elira take bets. Maris cries. Kier just gives both dogs snacks to make them get along.

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

🧊 What it’s like to date Woo-Jin (from what I see in the show🫠)

Masterlist

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

❄️ Cold, calculating, and emotionally reserved in public.

❄️ Privately, he’s intense possessive, brooding, and physically affectionate but rarely vocal about his feelings.

❄️ Has serious control issues he doesn’t like being ignored or not being in charge.

❄️ Uses money and status to keep people where he wants them.

❄️ Gets jealous quickly but hides it under passive aggression or sharp jabs.

❄️ Softens only when he’s losing control and realizes you’re slipping away.

💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳

💔🩶 What a Relationship with Lee Woo-Jin Is Like (If you can survive that is)

🖤 The Beginning

🎀 He noticed you because you didn’t orbit around the powerful social circle.

🎀 You’re soft-spoken, polite but you have firm boundaries, which confuses him.

🎀 Woo-Jin started off cold and blunt, assuming you’d fall for the wealth and prestige.

🎀 When you didn’t flinch at his sharp tone or coldness, and instead calmly walked away or ignored him, it both pissed him off and intrigued him.

🎀 You made him chase you by doing nothing except refusing to be another decoration in his life.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

💋 His “Situationship” Behavior

✨ When he starts sleeping with you, it’s always behind closed doors. No labels, no emotions, just his smoldering stare and that clenched jaw when you pull away too quickly.

✨ He doesn’t kiss in public, doesn’t smile at you during the day but at night, he’s leaning against your dorm door like a storm.

✨ If he’s upset, he shows up unannounced, grabs your wrist, and says, “Let’s go.” No explanation. Just that voice like ice under pressure.

✨ Tries to treat you like a secret but it’s not to protect you. It’s because he doesn’t know how to be seen wanting someone.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

🧊 How You React

🫧 The first time he tries to act like you’re just a “thing” calling late, ignoring you all day you go ghost(that would be nice if was not easily won over by him).

🫧 No texts. No eye contact. You act like he doesn’t exist.

🫧 It infuriates him. He’s used to people chasing him, begging for attention.

🫧 After 2 days, he shows up with a designer gift bag, eyebrows drawn tight like he’s been walking through fire to get there.

🫧 You take the gift… place it on your shelf… and go back to reading. Not a thank you. Not a smile.

🫧 He sits in your room silently for 30 minutes, eyes darting to you every few seconds. He leaves only when you finally say, “This isn’t how I work, Woo-Jin.”

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

🪓 Power Struggles

♟️ You two have explosive silent battles. No yelling just icy avoidance, petty retaliation, and long silences.

♟️ He sometimes tries to provoke you: making out with someone at a party, texting you “u up?” after ignoring you for days.

♟️ You don’t respond. You never fight for him. That kills him.

♟️ Eventually, he shows up drenched in rain at your door, eyes wild, whispering, “Are you really going to ignore me over this?”

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

💸 When He Starts Trying

✨ He starts bringing you coffee to class like it’s nothing.

✨ Stands behind you at school events, doesn’t talk, but makes sure people know you’re not single.

✨ Occasionally mutters “You’re mine” when he’s drunk or half-asleep in your bed. You never answer.

✨ When someone flirts with you, Woo-Jin doesn’t get loud. He leans in and says, “They’re not in your league. You know that, right?”

✨ Buys you jewelry and claims, “It looked better on you in my head.” Never actually asks if you want it.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

💔 When You Pull Away (Again)

🫧 He notices when you start pulling back again. Stops sleeping over. Stops texting.

🫧 He tries to act indifferent but starts making impulsive decisions failing to focus in class, skipping meetings, snapping at people.

🫧 Finally corners you alone in the library. Whispers with clenched teeth:

“I can’t do this. I don’t like how I am without you. Just… stop playing games.”

🫧 You calmly reply: “Then stop treating me like one.”

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

💢 When He Finally Breaks the Pattern

💋 You get caught in a situation maybe targeted by other students trying to get at him.

💋 Woo-Jin loses it. Doesn’t yell just walks up in his tailored blazer, wraps an arm around you, and says in front of everyone:

“If you have a problem with her, you have a problem with me.”

💋 After that, he starts showing up at your side more. Slowly, silently, becoming your shadow.

💋 Still doesn’t say “I love you.” But he looks at you like he wants to, and that’s enough… for now.

End….

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Hey I got done reading your last post about the male versions of violet and Caitlyn and I'd like to say I love it it's heartwarming and I actually like the kids cuz they sound funny cute adorable and mischievous like any normal child would be again I love it and I hope it's not a bother that I have more requests coming if it's all right with you and if it isn't then I respect your decision and if it is then thank you very much so I hope you have a wonderful self-care day and I hope you drink lots of water eat and get some sleep.

It’s okay, send them if you must🎪

Ringmaster🎪

[onceuponnpc]

May I request a marriage HC for gender bent Caitlyn and gender bent vi (separate of course) with a fem reader and by the way I love your newest post it's awesome and I read the bullets and fist post it was amazing and this got me thinking what would be like to marry them separately of course you know and have little ones like would their daughters be like their dads or be like their mom I have no clue again sorry to bother you.

🕊️“Two Futures, Two Fires”🔥

Pairing(s): Caelan Kiramman (male!Caitlyn) x Fem!Reader (separately ) Vince (male!Vi) x Fem!Reader - Requested

Genre: Romance, Domestic Fluff, Introspective, Family Headcanons

Themes: Marriage life, parenting, love languages, personality-driven family dynamics

Can be read as sequel to THIS READ or standalone

I am quite sorry for the long wait, I had quite a few things to finish first but I hope it’s to your liking. @coolgirl32 💋

Masterlist

🎪✨ A Little Warning Beneath the Big Top ✨🎪 If this content upsets you, I genuinely apologise truly, that was never the intention. You are always free to exit the tent. No hard feelings, no spotlight needed. The show goes on, regardless. 🎭🖤

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Married to Caelan Kiramman (Caitlyn)

“He is structure. You are stormlight. Together, you are balance.”

💍 The Marriage

Life with Caelan is serene elegant, meticulous, and breathtakingly steady. Your wedding was nothing short of a spectacle in Piltover: high balconies draped in silk, noble bloodlines whispering praise behind fans, his gloved hand never once letting go of yours.

He looks devastating in tailored navy suits, long coat tails and silver cufflinks, his violet eyes always searching for you in a room even when you’re already beside him. He isn’t a loud lover, but a present one. Caelan shows love in quiet tea mornings, handwritten notes tucked in your books, and the way he reaches for you in sleep like you’re the only constant in a chaotic world.

His love language is acts of service and protection. He isn’t flashy he is precise. Every step with you is intentional.

“You’re the only variable I don’t need to control,” he murmurs against your neck once, curled beside you post-council meeting. “Because with you, I already feel… complete.”

🍼 Your Children

I think you would have two daughters with Caelan. Their upbringing is the picture of grace and training, but never suffocating. Caelan may be noble-born, but he never treats your girls like trophies he treats them like the future.

👧 Eldest Daughter: Elira Kiramman

Looks: Midnight blue hair, piercing violet eyes like her father. Delicate features, always dressed like she’s about to walk into a council meeting even at age nine.

Personality: Stoic, eerily calm, always thinking ten steps ahead. She mirrors Caelan’s quiet intellect and picks up a rifle way too early, to your horror.

Favorite thing: Listening to Caelan recite tactical histories while resting her head on your lap.

Like she could go:

“Mama,” she asks one night, “do you think I could be a councilor? Papa says I have potential.”

You smile. “You could be anything, darling. Even a queen.”

“I’d rather be a general,” she says proudly. Caelan just smirks.

👧 Younger Daughter: Maris Kiramman

Looks: I think she would inherit your eyes, your smile but Caelan’s posture and absurd politeness. She’s softer, more emotional.

Personality: Probably a gentle daydreamer. Often lost in books, painting, or pretending to be a guard like her father. A daddy’s girl through and through, always holding Caelan’s hand.

Favorite thing: Falling asleep in his lap while he works. Sometimes he stops mid-report just to run his fingers through her hair.

Caelan once dropped his council badge when Maris got a nosebleed during a fall.

“She’s bleeding get me a medic!”

You’d never seen him panic so fast. Or hold someone so delicately.

🏠 Domestic Moments

Family breakfasts are formal until Elira cracks a joke (a very rare one), and Caelan nearly chokes on his tea.

He teaches them rifle etiquette. You could teach them how to choose peace first.

Every year, on your anniversary, he would take you to the same rooftop where he first confessed he loved you when you both were covered in grime, and he still kissed you like you were gold.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Married to Vince (Vi)

“He is chaos. You are calm. Together, you are wildfire contained in glass.”

💍 The Marriage

Life with Vince is loud, messy, and so deeply alive. Your wedding was small half the attendees were ex-Zaunites, some drunk, one unconscious but it was real. He held your hands so tight during the vows, it was like he thought you might vanish.

He’s wild in love pulling you into dances mid-market, leaving greasy forehead kisses, calling you “wifey” in the most obnoxious tone but looking at you like you’re the sun in a dark world.

His love language is physical touch and quality time. He needs to feel you, hear you, anchor himself to you. The world betrayed him too many times. You never did.

“You’re the only thing that makes me feel like maybe I deserve something good,” he says, breathless one night, when the city’s asleep and his heart’s too open.

🍼 Your Children

I feel like he would have three children with Vince two daughters and one boy and your house is pure mayhem and love.

👧 Eldest Daughter: Roxy

Looks: Vince’s pink hair (dyed a bit of them but she refuses to stop), your bone structure, and his crooked grin.

Personality: A menace. She throws punches, writes poetry, and sneaks extra dessert under your nose.

She idolizes Vince. Wants to be like him and better than him. She’s quick to fight bullies and even quicker to protect her siblings.

Favorite thing: Sparring with Vince while you yell at both of them to stop breaking the furniture.

She would come to you out of know-where be like:

“Papa said I can beat up any kid who disrespects Mama.”

Vince: “Damn right I did.”

You: “VINCE—”

👧 Second Daughter: Juna

Looks: Much softer. Wavy hair, big eyes like yours. Always covered in paint or dirt.

Personality: A curious little chaos goblin who asks too many questions. Not aggressive like her sister, but terrifyingly smart. Vince nicknamed her “Brains.”

Favorite thing: Falling asleep in your arms while Vince reads comic books aloud in exaggerated voices.

👶 Son: Kier

The baby. The quiet one. Looks exactly like Vince as a child, which sometimes breaks your heart when Vince stares at him too long.

Vince is overly gentle with him afraid, in his own way, that the world will steal him too.

Favorite thing: Holding Vince’s dog tags while falling asleep on his chest.

🏠 Domestic Moments

I think Vince bakes badly, but insists on making cake for every birthday. The girls lie and say it’s great.

He dances with you in the kitchen at midnight while the kids snore.

He has nightmares sometimes. You always hold him until he comes back to you.

When the girls argue, he lets them hash it out unless someone cries. Then he’s all fierce comfort and awkward pep talks.

“You three are the best things that ever happened to me. Your mom… she’s the fourth,” he says once, tearing up at a family photo. “But you better not tell her I said that.”

🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷

💞 Final Note

Marrying Caelan is like being sculpted into something timeless elegant and enduring.

Marrying Vince is like being caught in a storm you’d drown in again and again because at least in the chaos, you feel everything.

In both lives, your daughters and son will carry parts of you and their fathers.

In both futures, you are loved deeply, wildly, and differently.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Maybe in the next life, I’ll tell you sooner.

Go Kyung-jun x Secret Girlfriend!Reader | Mafia AU | Tragedy | Thriller | Reincarnation Twist | Warnings: Major character death, grief, psychological breakdown, blood, execution vote, memory reset, implied canon-typical violence

Part 1 Part 2

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

⤷ Day 6 – Post-Death Silence

The world was too quiet without his voice.

The gym, once filled with shouting and suspicion, now echoed with the soft creak of sneakers and shallow breathing. Six survivors remained, circling each other like ghosts. You sat against the wall where his blood had dried, hands folded in your lap, eyes hollow.

They didn’t speak to you.

No one dared.

You hadn’t moved since they took his body away.

He died as a civilian. Beaten and discarded like a pawn.

But to you, he was everything.

The only thing keeping you tethered to this madness. The only one who looked at you like you were more than a shadow. More than a player. More than a liar.

💋💋💋💋

The screen flickered red. Final warning.

Another vote. One more execution.

You stood up. For the first time all day.

They watched you with suspicion worse now, after your breakdown. You looked different. Emptier. Focused.

Soo-mi’s voice was careful. “Y/N… Are you okay?”

You looked up slowly. And smiled.

“No.”

And then you stepped into the center of the gym floor.

“I have something to say.”

💋💋💋💋

They probably expected a plea. A sob story. A strategy.

But what they got was quiet.

And brutal honesty.

You said, voice even.

“I’m Mafia……”

The words hit like a blade. The air crackled. Eyes widened. No one moved.

“I didn’t say it to survive. I’m not trying to play the game anymore. I just…”

You swallowed.

“I loved him.”

The others stilled.

“I didn’t even get to say it out loud one last time. The only part of this nightmare that felt real.” Your voice cracked, but you kept speaking.

“I told him I was a civilian,” you admitted, “because I couldn’t stand the thought of him looking at me like how you all are looking at me right now…..”

You looked around the room. “So hate me. Vote for me. I don’t care anymore.”

“I don’t have the right to continue this game anymore….” your voice broke, “so vote for me….”

They hesitated but voted without words.

You didn’t plead. Didn’t flinch. You even smiled a little as the voice said your name.

“MAFIA ELIMINATED”

You closed your eyes as everything went black. Your knees buckled.

And the last thing you whispered as darkness overtook you was—

“Maybe in the next life… I’ll tell you sooner.”

The world vanished.

The pain stopped.

The game ended.

And then—

💋💋💋💋

✧ ⤷ RESET

Monday – 8:17 AM – Bus Arrival

The mountain air was fresh. Unfamiliar. You blinked at the soft breeze brushing against your cheek, squinting through the morning light.

The bus rumbled beneath you as your classmates laughed and shoved each other excitedly.

You pulled your phone from your pocket no signal.

You frowned slightly, heart racing for no reason you could name.

“Everything okay?”

You turned..

And there he was.

Go Kyung-jun.

Leaning against the window with his arms crossed, cocky smirk in place, hair messy like he didn’t care.

You blinked. Your heart staggered.

“Y-Yeah. I just… thought I forgot something.”

He raised a brow.

“You always overthink.”

A pause. Then:

“I’ll save you a seat for the hike down later. Don’t wander off and get eaten by wolves.”

You stared at him.

He was alive.

Alive, and smirking, and teasing you like he always did before this before what? You didn’t remember.

Only…

Something was off.

A strange ache throbbed in your chest. Your fingers curled unconsciously against his arm as if they were used to gripping something that was gone.

💋💋💋💋

⤷ Later – The Opening Ceremony

Everyone gathered in the gym, chattering excitedly. The lights dimmed. The screen blinked on.

Welcome to Mafia.

Roles have been assigned.

You blinked down at your phone.

Your role: MAFIA.

Your chest tightened.

But you didn’t know why.

And from across the gym, Kyung-jun glanced at you again.

And for a second just a second he hesitated, like he remembered something too.

Like your souls had passed each other before in a storm.

End….

Masterlist

——————————————

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Crimson Stains & Sweet Kisses.

Genre: Dark Romance / Mystery / Suspense

Setting: École Veritas: a prestigious private co-ed boarding school nestled in a cold, mist-covered countryside

Warning: death mention, suicide mention (note: clearly state it’s ruled as suicide but isn’t), grief and loss, cliffhanger (for 1st chapter), murder mystery, toxic academic pressure, implied adult themes, dark themes, angst, slow burn romance, secret identity, hurt/comfort, break up and reunion, smut, consensual smut, mature content, nsfw, oral (f receiving) (if included if you squint), p in v sex, reader insert smut, intimate sex, emotional sex

Masterlist Part 2 [coming soon]

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

Chapter 1: The New Boy

They said she jumped.

Out of the West Tower the tallest wing of École Veritas. A swan dive into the cold marble courtyard below. Her name was Clara Durand. Second in the school academically, quiet, clever, elegant. Gone in the blink of an eye.

The students were horrified. Teachers shook their heads. But within a week, schedules returned to normal, whispers faded, and life moved on.

The police closed the case. Suicide. No signs of forced entry. No weapon. No CCTV the West Tower’s cameras had been under maintenance. No conclusive evidence.

Except one thing.

Clara’s older brother Adrien Durand didn’t believe it.

So he cut his hair, changed his last name to Delacroix, and enrolled at École Veritas three weeks after the incident. His parents didn’t approve, but they didn’t stop him either. They couldn’t afford a private investigator, and Adrien had always been the cunning one in the family. If they wouldn’t find answers for Clara… he would.

“You don’t believe she jumped?” his father asked.

“She was terrified of heights,” Adrien answered, eyes cold. “And she wanted to study architecture in Rome. She was planning her future. She didn’t throw it away. Someone did that for her.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

From the moment Adrien stepped onto campus, he heard her name:

Y/N L/N.

Top scorer in the school. Loved by teachers. Respected by classmates. Always collected. Clara’s academic rival but not in the catty way. They had lunch together. Shared study groups. People said they were close, even if no one could say how close.

“If anyone saw Clara last,” a boy said casually in the library, “it’d be Y/N.”

“Y/N’s brilliant, she probably knows everything,” a girl whispered by the lockers.

“She was… different the day Clara died,” another murmured. “You could see it.”

Adrien had no choice. He had to get near her. But he couldn’t approach like a vulture. So he joined the literary club. Then the academic decathlon. Then the chess team.

Y/N was in all three.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The first time you spoke to Adrien, it was because he beat you in a chess match.

“You’re not bad,” you said, pressing your lips together, tilting your head curiously.

“I’m not good either,” he replied with a grin. “Just observant. You always move your knight early.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Only obsessively.”

“That’s creepy.”

“But charming?” he teased.

“…Undecided.”

You were calm. Elegant. Distant, even but not unkind. Like someone trained to keep their inner world under heavy lock. He knew the type. Clara had been the same. Quiet girls always hid the loudest truths.

Weeks passed. Adrien charmed you, bit by bit. He cracked your dry wit with terrible puns. Gave you origami notes in the shape of swords. Shared snacks during study hall. And you let him in.

Slowly.

It started in the old art room. The one students rarely used.

It was raining outside. Thick, slow droplets tapping the windows. Adrien stood close behind you, looking over your shoulder as you scribbled notes for an upcoming quiz. His voice was low.

“You never talk about Clara.”

You paused.

“People don’t ask,” you said.

“I’m asking now.”

“She… was complicated.”

He didn’t push further. But you turned, finally meeting his eyes.

“Why do you ask about her so much?”

“Because she seems like someone who didn’t deserve to vanish without answers.”

You searched his expression, frowning.

“You talk like someone who knew her.”

“I didn’t. But I feel like I’m getting closer.”

The air shifted. Breath hitched. Something unspoken lingered.

Then his hand cupped your face.

You didn’t stop him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

⚠️NSFW ahead⚠️

The kiss was slow. Experimental at first. Your lips brushed, then clung, and finally deepened. Tongues grazing, breathing uneven.

Your body pressed to his, your back against a paint-chipped wall.

His hands found your hips. Yours gripped his shirt. The art room was silent except for the wind and soft gasps.

When he lifted you up, you wrapped your legs around him with practiced ease. He laid you gently onto a storage table, the surface cool beneath you as he kissed down your throat. Your shirt unbuttoned under his fingers.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded.

“Locked the door?”

His mouth returned to yours hungry, needy. His hand slid beneath your skirt, tracing along your thigh, then slipping past your underwear. You gasped, arching as his fingers toyed with your folds, slick and ready.

“So wet already?” he murmured against your neck.

You moaned, breath shaky as he circled your clit. Your hips moved against his hand instinctively.

“Adrien—”

“Say it again,” he groaned, nibbling at your collarbone.

You whimpered as he slipped a finger inside, then another, curling them just right.

“Adrien… please—”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

He kissed you deeply again, fingers pumping slow and purposeful until your legs trembled around him, eyes fluttering. He held you close as you came, muffling your cries with a kiss, your body clinging to his as though something would rip you apart if you let go.

💚NSFW over💚

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Days passed. You smiled more. Let him hold your hand in public. Shared your blanket during movie night in the common room.

But Adrien never forgot Clara.

One afternoon, lounging in the library, he asked quietly, cautiously.

“What was Clara like to you?”

You blinked, stiffened slightly.

“Why?”

“Just curious. People don’t talk about her much anymore.”

You hesitated, fingers fiddling with the edge of your sweater.

“She was…”

“Was?”

“Kind. And smart. A little too proud sometimes.”

“Did you get along?”

“Most of the time.” You gave a tight smile. “We were competitive. But not enemies.”

“What happened that night?” he asked gently.

You looked down.

“She left study hall early. Said she had something to think about.”

“…And then?”

“And then she was gone.”

You paused, eyes unreadable. “That��s all I know.”

But it wasn’t. He could tell. You knew something. And you were holding it back.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

That weekend, Adrien went home. Sat at the dinner table with his grief-stricken parents, trying to hide the way guilt gnawed at his ribs.

“How’s the school?” his mother asked, voice thin.

“Same. Rich kids. Politics. Fake smiles.”

“And Clara?”

“I’m close,” Adrien said.

His parents exchanged a worried glance.

“Adrien… maybe we should let it go,” his father murmured. “We don’t have the strength for this.”

“Then I’ll have the strength,” he snapped. “Clara deserves that.”

Upon returning to school, Adrien dug deeper. Asked questions. Listened. Read old texts. Dug up a chat log Clara had saved on the school’s shared laptop.

One entry stood out:

“Y/N’s been acting strange lately. I don’t think she likes that I beat her in the last exam. She said something weird to me today. Like… I was too perfect to be trusted. I laughed. But it didn’t feel like a joke.”

Adrien felt his stomach twist.

And then he found out from a quiet clubmate that you were the last person seen speaking to Clara the night she died.

He stared at your name on the roster list, suddenly feeling cold.

Could it be you?

The girl who moaned his name under soft candlelight?

The girl who held his hand when no one else did?

He didn’t know anymore.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One evening, you found him staring out at the West Tower from the courtyard.

“You’re quiet today,” you said.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“…Clara.”

You flinched.

“Why do you keep bringing her up?” you asked, voice brittle.

“Because I can’t forget her,” he said, turning to you. “Because I—”

He stopped.

You were looking at him with something in your eyes. A fear. A knowing.

“Who are you, Adrien?” you asked.

And then you said it:

“You’re her brother, aren’t you?”

The courtyard was silent. Your voice didn’t waver, but your body was tense.

Adrien’s heart pounded like war drums in his chest.

You knew.

And he didn’t know if he was in love with the girl who could be his sister’s killer.

To Be Continued…..

(Cliffhanger — Y/N’s truth remains hidden. Adrien’s heart torn between his feelings and justice. The next move could destroy them both.)

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Hello I am so glad to hear that about arcane and my first request is a dating HC for genderbend vi x fem reader x genderbend Caitlyn (if not for a female reader then for gender-neutral) again I am excited to hear that you make arcane fic's I really am also I hope you have a good self-care day

🎪✨ Author’s Note from the Ringleader of Chaos ✨🎪I wrote this work based on what my brain could comprehend with what it’s got left (not much, but it’s got flair). Somewhere between the glitter and the screams, this chaotic little circus of npc’s came to life. I may have gone overboard. (I probably did.) But I had so much fun writing it. If even one unhinged line makes you smirk, flinch, or clutch your imaginary pearls…. I’ve done my job. (I hope you like it @coolgirl32.) Enjoy the ride. The tent never closes. 🎭🖤 —The Ringmaster behind the curtain🎪

🥀 “Between Bullet and Fist”

Pairing: Genderbend Vi (Vince) x Fem!Reader x Genderbend Caitlyn (Caelan) ~ [Requested] ~

Setting: Piltover & Zaun (Arcane Episodes 5–7 timeline)

Warning?: no happy ending (optional interpretation), noble reader, genderbend vi, genderbend caitlyn, love triangle, arranged marriage au, political engagement, kinda emotional angst, slow burn <if you squint>, hurt/comfort???, reader torn between two lovers, reader is in denial, canon divergence?

Masterlist Continuation/ Standalone

🎪✨ A Little Warning Beneath the Big Top ✨🎪 If this content upsets you, I genuinely apologise truly, that was never the intention. You are always free to exit the tent. No hard feelings, no spotlight needed. The show goes on, regardless. 🎭🖤

🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️🎟️

You were never supposed to fall for a someone like Vince.

Rough-edged, foul-mouthed, and scarred with stories he doesn’t tell. A man who wore his bruises like armor and laughed at danger like it was an old friend.

You were meant to marry Lord Caelan Kiramman. Handsome, noble, and dignified. Groomed for command, made for order. Your parents called it a “strategic union.” The kind of love that comes after the vows if you’re lucky.

But you were never lucky. Just… obedient.

That is, until you descended into Zaun.

Caelan met you at the gates of the Council Hall after three years abroad. Taller than you remembered. Broad-shouldered, composed, wrapped in a crisp navy coat and the scent of ink, steel, and faint cologne.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a bow so smooth it felt like choreography. “You’ve grown… lovely.”

You offered your hand. He took it, but didn’t squeeze. Didn’t hold. Just touched and released, as if afraid you might break.

You knew Caelan’s affection came quietly measured glances, calculated words. Over dinner, he asked about your reading. Your studies. Your health.

He did not ask if you were happy.

He rarely did.

But he looked at you like a man studying the edge of a blade uncertain whether to wield it or worship it.

* . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * . * . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶

But then you met Vince by accident.

Caelan had brought him along for the mission: a Zaunite informant, dangerous and unpredictable, but somehow necessary. He looked every inch the rebellion your parents feared leather jacket, fingerless gloves, wild pink hair that defied the order of Piltover. A smirk that said, I know exactly what people think when they see me… and I don’t care.

He leaned against a rusted pipe in the Undercity safehouse, arms folded, head tilted.

“So this is the little porcelain bride,” he drawled. “Bet you got a curtsy for every emotion.”

You raised your chin. “And you must be the stray my fiancé picked up.”

He grinned sharp and sudden, like the flash of a knife in a dark alley.

“Oh,” he said, “I like her.”

* . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * . * . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * .

The mission dragged on.

Silco’s network was a maze of lies and blood, and each step deeper into Zaun felt like falling down the throat of a monster. You weren’t supposed to be here. Not in the dirt. Not beside danger.

But Vince kept showing up. Dragging you behind cover when bullets rang. Tossing sarcastic one-liners. Stealing glances when he thought you weren’t looking.

He called you Princess. At first, it grated. Then it started sounding like something only he should say.

One night, after Caelan had gone off to meet a contact, you found yourself alone with Vince on a rooftop. Zaun shimmered below, green-glowing and vile.

“Tell me something,” he said, perched on the ledge, one boot swinging. “You ever want to run?”

You blinked. “From what?”

“From all of it.” He didn’t look at you. “The titles. The cages. The expectations. Ever wanna just… disappear?”

You hesitated. “Yes. But people like me don’t get to disappear.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. Eyes bright, angry, soft.

“I’d help you,” he said.

And damn you, you believed him.

* . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * . * . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * .

Caelan noticed first.

He saw it in the way Vince’s eyes lingered. In the way you laughed open, unguarded in the streetfighter’s presence. He didn’t say a word for days.

Then one night, after a narrow escape from a Chem-Baron ambush, he cornered you in the dim light of the safehouse hallway.

“You’re slipping,” he said, voice low. “I see it. In your eyes.”

You stiffened. “Nothing’s happening.”

“But you want it to.”

You didn’t answer.

He stepped closer. Gently, he cupped your cheek. His touch was cold. Careful. Terrified.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to show it. But I do.”

Your breath caught.

Moments this when Vince is not around, you and Caelan grow closer. He shows you his vulnerability how the Council doesn’t take him seriously, how he’s constantly being told he’s too soft, too noble. You start seeing that his control isn’t coldness. It’s survival.

Then you turned your head away.

“I’m sorry….”

And you ran.

You didn’t know where you were going until you ended up in the Undercity scrapyard. Vince was there, sparring with shadows, fists wrapped in torn cloth. He stopped when he saw you.

“What happened?”

You walked right into his arms.

He held you without question, just warmth and muscle and heartbeat.

“I think I’m breaking,” you murmured.

He kissed you. Rough. Desperate. Like he was trying to inhale your soul. And gods, you kissed him back.

But there was no escaping Piltover.

Your wedding date was announced. Invitations sent. Caelan resumed his stoic mask, but his eyes never stopped following you. Caelan begins preparing his vows quiet, poetic, full of longing.

Vince? He pulled away. Started picking fights. Started disappearing.

Until the night before the wedding, when he returns, he shows up at your window like a cliché out of a romance novel, bruised knuckles and bloodshot eyes.

“Run with me,” he whispers. “Tonight. Say the word and I’ll burn this whole damn city down just to keep you safe.”

* . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * . * . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * .

You are constantly torn between duty and desire.

With Caelan, you feel safe. Protected. Seen.

With Vince, you feel alive. Desired. Understood.

You begin to question everything you were raised to believe about honor, love, and safety.

Your dreams are haunted by one man’s blue eyes and another’s pink hair.

* . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * . * . ` ✧*♡ू∙ો ੍✧ ✶ * .

💔 EPILOGUE: Potential Endings (Pick Your Poison)

Runaway Bride with Vince: You leave behind the dress, the family name, and the city lights. Vince takes you underground and for the first time, you feel like you belong somewhere that doesn’t demand perfection.

Stay with Caelan, Choose Stability: You walk down the aisle, but your heart beats a little differently. Caelan knows it. He always will. But he loves you enough to keep you anyway.

Defy Both, Choose Yourself: You vanish before the wedding. Neither Caelan nor Vince know where you’ve gone but both still look for you. In the shadows of Piltover and the alleys of Zaun, your legend begins to grow.

End…

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪

[onceuponnpc]

Hey sorry to bother you but may I ask you a question if you are comfortable with it that is if so then ok and if not then ok as well so my question is do you write arcane fic's and if so then what characters do you write for and do you write a genderbend versions of the female characters of arcade and if not then I understand again sorry to bother you.

🎪 The Ringmaster flips his velvet top hat, spins a cane, and bows with an overly dramatic flourish, eyes gleaming with madness and insanity. 🎪 Ah, welcome, welcome to The Grand Inquiry Tent! You, dear traveler, have asked a question and what a delight it is to be bothered! Bothering is my favorite form of communication. 🎭✨

Now! To your question of Arcane fics why yes, I do dabble in the glittering, gritty world of Piltover and the shadowy depths of Zaun. Characters? Oh, I tango with the likes of Silco, Jinx, Vi, Viktor, Jayce, Caitlyn, Ekko, Scar and even the unhinged whispers of Heimerdinger’s existential dread. No one is truly safe me!

And as for genderbent versions of the ladies of Arcane? Cue dramatic gasp 😧 but of course! If you desire a genderbent Vi with a jawline that could cut diamonds, or a male Jinx who’s equal parts manic and magnetic—I am most capable. It’s all part of the show! 🎠💥

So ask away, my curious choatic gremlin! The Ringmaster adores curiosity… and silliness.😃

🎩 cue confetti cannon and a squeaky balloon animal shaped like….. Ekko???

[onceuponnpc]

You weren’t supposed to die. Not before me.

Go Kyung-jun x Fem!Reader (Mafia) | Genre: Angst, Tragedy, Guilt, Secret Romance | Warnings: Major character death, grief, emotional breakdown, mention of blood, psychological distress

Part 1 Part 3

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

You didn’t feel it when he died.

The game didn’t care that he was yours.

💋💋💋💋

One Hour Earlier — “Civilian Eliminated”

You had collapsed from exhaustion. The stress of the vote. The guilt. The fear. All of it caught up to you, and your body finally gave out in the corner of the cold infirmary where no one looked for you. The red light of the vote results flashed faintly on your closed eyelids.

You didn’t hear the screams.

You didn’t hear his name.

You didn’t hear his last words.

💋💋💋💋

The cold burned into your spine. You blinked awake slowly, head pounding. The infirmary was quiet, eerily so. You pushed yourself up—

And then you heard the whisper. Soft. Strangled.

“Kyung-jun’s dead.”

You froze.

The air caught in your throat.

You laughed, at first.

“No,” you whispered, like a joke. “No, he’s not. He wouldn’t be. He wouldn’t let himself be killed—”

But then you saw Soo-mi’s face. Hollow. Broken.

And the bat lying on the blood-smeared floor.

“No,” you repeated, stumbling forward, “No, no, no, no—”

You ran.

💋💋💋💋

He was lying just outside the gym, where the floor was cracked from the chaos earlier. Someone had pulled a blanket over him, but not all the way. His hand stuck out.

That hand.

The same one that used to hold your wrist, tight enough to bruise.

The one that once trembled against your lower back as he kissed you like the world was ending.

You dropped to your knees.

“No.”

You yanked the blanket back.

Blood matted his hair. His eyes were closed. Lips slightly parted. Like he had one more insult left in him and didn’t get the chance to say it.

“No,” you whimpered. “Kyung-jun, wake up. Please.”

Your fingers shook as you cupped his face. He was still warm.

“This isn’t funny,” your voice cracked. “You don’t get to die. Not without saying goodbye. Not when I was going to tell you—”

Your chest heaved. “I was going to tell you everything.”

You bent forward until your forehead rested on his. Just like he used to do.

Just like the first night he kissed you in the dark.

“I lied to you. I lied to you because I didn’t want you to hate me. Because if you looked at me like the others… I wouldn’t survive it.”

Tears dripped down, mixing with the blood on his shirt.

“I didn’t vote for you. I swear. I swear on everything……I didn’t vote for you. But I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Your body shook with a violent sob as you wrapped your arms around him, cradling his upper body like you could pull him back into you.

“You promised to protect me.”

You whispered it into his cold skin.

“You said if I died, you’d follow me.”

Her fingers gripped his jacket.

“So what now?”

💋💋💋💋

From the shadows, none of the remaining survivors said a word.

They watched as you wept over the boy they thought you barely noticed. The boy everyone assumed was just another manipulator. Just another name on a chalkboard.

None of them knew the truth.

That you had been his weakness.

And he had been yours.

💋💋💋💋

As you lay beside him, cheek pressed to his chest, whispering fragments of old promises, the red glow of the system pulsed again.

Another vote was coming.

Another bloodbath.

But this time—

You were done hiding.

To be continued…..

Masterlist

——————————————

🎪 Ringmaster’s Warning: No Copycats in This Tent 🎪