Opinionated Gamer Grrl

Would I be able to request a yandere reader x yandere character trope with Ruggie, Leona, Idia and Malleus? I dont have a particular context to how I want it to play out ttb. I think you write yandere fics rlly well, and I've always loved the yandere x yandere trope, so I'm shooting my shot ᵕ᷄≀ ̠ᵕ᷅

: ̗̀➛ MB, DIDN’T KNOW YOU WAS CHILL LIKE DAT. yan! ruggie, leona, idia, malleus, azul

sometimes you gotta pull out all the stops to make your darling never leave your side, no matter how extreme. you’re prepared for screaming, crying, and begging, but what you really don’t know is your lover is just chill like that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

જ⁀➴ ✉︎ [+ MAY I REQUEST A YANDERE X YANDERE W RUGGIE, IDIA, MALLEUS, LEONA AND AZUL PLS?? (seperate) Context you decide? 😞] oops idk if readers were yan enough in some parts, but this was a nice fit to my chill reader series!

( breaking n entering; idia is a creep godbless 👍; cctvs; kidnapping; shackling; readers are not right in the head; love potions )

The last thing RUGGIE thought he would be coming back to his room to was you stuffing his clothes in a bag. The other last, last thing that Ruggie thought he would be coming back to was you staring at the laundry in his hands, pointing at them, and shamelessly asking if you could have them.

“Did you…?” He doesn’t even know where to start. “Did you just break into Savanaclaw just to steal my clothes?”

“Did you break into my dorm room last night to rub your scent all over my sheets?” You counter, and Ruggie sheepishly looks away. “The answer is yes. Now are you gonna give me those or not?” A bit perplexed at the situation, Ruggie finds himself handing over today’s laundry to you. You look satisfied and begin putting back the clothes you just stole back in their place.

Dazed, Ruggie sits on the edge of his bed to watch you smooth out his clothes and put them on hangers. “So, what…?” He starts. “Y– You like me?”

You turn around and give him an ‘are you stupid?’ look, which he thinks isn’t fair. You were in no position to be looking at him like that when you were the one caught stealing his clothes! “Did it have to take you catching me red-handed to finally realize it? I thought we were doing this in mutual agreement. I thought that you broke in and rolled over my sheets before I came home, and I came here to steal your clothes. I really thought we had something going on.”

He scoffs in perplexed amazement. “Y– You thought that that was just a normal thing we had going on?!”

“Normal, schnormal.” You wave off his incredulity. “Every couple has their own quirks. Ours just so happen to be breaking and entering. No biggie.”

“We’re not a couple!” He exclaims, dumbfounded. He doesn’t realize how eerily still you become mid-hanging. “I only just found out that you’re the one behind all the missing clothes. All this time, I just thought it was some asshole—” 

You turn around, a dangerous look in your eye. The grip you had on that hanger was so strong that it was looking less like an appliance and more like a weapon in your hands. “So, you don’t love me?” You ask, deadly low.

Ruggie’s ears flatten, and he quickly shakes his head. “No, boss. Yes, I love you, boss.”

As fast as lightning, your face becomes smug and satisfied as you return to hanging the rest of his stolen clothes. “Good boy. I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the Hall of Mirrors.” You pause. “Or you’re dead.”

Order up! 🍞🍎🧀✨

My Twst Fave Food series is complete, and all the boys are available as stickers on my Etsy shop! Find it HERE!✨

the overblots boys x reader (platonic) between the ages of 12-14

realizing yuu's real age (they thought that Yuu was 16)

there really angry with Crowley for giving so much things for a child to handle

and after that they become really protection over yuu please and thank you

(I'm really sorry if it's too long it's my first time requesting some thing)

Poor Unfortunate Child

a/n: thanks for ordering! I actually absolutely love the idea of a young Yuu going through all these horrors actually

warnings: mentions of malnourishment, child employment(??somewhat?), child neglect this is a platonic fanfic wc: 2.4k

Riddle Rosehearts

The realization did not come with a dramatic revelation, but rather a quiet, devastating observation. Riddle had been reviewing the Ramshackle Dorm’s meager budget, intending to scold Yuu for a minor clerical error, when he noticed the prefect trying to reach a high shelf in the lounge. They looked so impossibly small, their oversized, hand-me-down uniform swallowing their frame. When Riddle pressed for their official enrollment documentation—demanding to know why their magical aptitude scores and basic vitals were missing from the Heartslabyul archives—Yuu casually admitted that back home, they hadn't even finished middle school. They were twelve, turning thirteen.

The color drained entirely from Riddle’s face, replaced swiftly by a suffocating, blinding rage. A child. A literal child had been tasked with subduing his own lethal, ink-fueled rampage, forced to clean up the messes of a school full of volatile mages while living in a rotting, ghost-infested ruin on a diet of stale bread and canned soup.

Riddle’s magic flared, the air around him crackling with the dangerous aura of Off With Your Head! as he vowed to march straight to the Headmage's office and demand Crowley's execution, or at least his permanent expulsion from society.

Yuu, terrified not of Crowley’s fate but of Riddle popping a blood vessel, desperately grabbed the hem of his cloak. They pleaded with him, pointing out that throwing a tantrum or getting expelled for assault wouldn't fix their living situation, and that violence never truly solved anything. Reluctantly, Riddle forced his magic down, breathing heavily as he smoothed his jacket. But the fury did not vanish; it simply redirected itself. From that afternoon forward, Yuu was no longer allowed to manage their own life. Riddle personally oversaw their daily schedule, showing up at Ramshackle with freshly baked, nutrient-dense tarts and a strict, unyielding mandate that Yuu was to do absolutely no heavy lifting, campus chores, or dangerous exterminations ever again.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona had always known the herbivore was scrawny, but he had assumed it was just a consequence of coming from a world without magic, or perhaps just miserable genetics. It wasn't until Yuu fell asleep on the lounge sofa in Savanaclaw—curled into a ball so tiny they barely took up a single cushion—that Leona’s sharp beastman senses picked up on the truth. He listened to the steady, fragile rhythm of their heartbeat and noted the distinct, heartbreaking scent of mild malnutrition that he usually only smelled in the poorest sectors of the Sunset Savannah.

When Yuu woke up, Leona casually dragged the truth out of them with a few pointed questions about their life before Twisted Wonderland. When the number twelve dropped from their mouth, Leona stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.

The lazy, indifferent facade he wore like armor shattered instantly. A low, irrtated sigh was the only thing that managed to come out. That feathered bastard Crowley had literal royalty at his school, yet he was using a starving, pre-teen cub as a glorified, unpaid handyman to fix life-threatening magical crises. Leona stood up, his eyes flashing a dangerous, predatory green, fully intending to turn Dire Crowley into actual dust beneath his boots.

Yuu, sensing the imminent demise of the Headmage, jumped in front of the door, spreading their arms wide. They argued that if Leona turned Crowley to ash, Night Raven College would lose its funding, Ramshackle would be demolished, and besides, answering negligence with bloodshed wouldn't make the cafeteria food taste any better.

Leona stared down at the cub, clicked his tongue in supreme irritation, and sat back down. He didn't go after Crowley, but he made sure the bird paid in other ways. Ruggie was immediately given a permanent assignment: ensure Yuu was fed three square, meat-heavy meals a day from the Savanaclaw kitchen.

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a standard inventory audit that blew the secret wide open. Azul was reviewing the Mostro Lounge’s payroll and supply requests when he noticed Yuu’s handwriting on a casual labor contract they had signed to earn a few extra madols. The handwriting was neat, but the signature was distinctly juvenile. Out of sheer curiosity, Azul ran a comprehensive background check through his various information networks, only to find a shocking discrepancy in the age Yuu had offhandedly given during their first week. They weren't sixteen; they were barely twelve.

Azul’s teacup shattered against the saucer, hot liquid spilling across his pristine desk, unheeded. For a businessman who prided himself on fair trades and calculated risks, this was a grotesque violation of every moral and legal standard he possessed. Crowley had signed a contract of guardianship with a child under the guise of an educational scholarship, only to starve them and force them into lethal combat with Overblotted students to protect the school's reputation.

Azul’s eyes darkened, a cold, calculating fury washing over him as he immediately began drafting a legal and magical blackmail campaign designed to completely ruin Crowley’s life, strip him of his assets, and leave him destitute.

Yuu, seeing the terrifying glint in Azul’s eyes and the sheer volume of cursed parchment he was conjuring, gently placed a hand over his. They told him that destroying the Headmage via a massive legal war would only bring unwanted ministry attention to Ramshackle, and that ruining a life out of spite didn't actually help anyone.

Azul took a deep breath, adjusting his glasses as he forced his composure back into place. He agreed to hold his legal fire, but the dynamic changed instantly. Yuu's contract at the Lounge was immediately torn up, replaced by a VIP status that ensured they were given the finest, most nutritionally complete meals the lounge had to offer, completely free of charge. Furthermore, Azul deployed Floyd and Jade as a permanent, terrifying pair of bodyguards, ensuring no one ever took advantage of the "Mostro Lounge's protected junior associate" again.

Jamil Viper

As the person who practically ran Scarabia’s logistics(As well as Kalim’s health and well-being), Jamil was hyper-aware of health, diet, and physical stamina. He had invited Yuu over under the pretense of helping them study, but when he watched them struggle to chop a simple vegetable—their wrists visibly thin and lacking the basic muscle density of a teenager—he grew suspicious. Jamil pulled out a medical diagnostic charm, standard for checking the well-being of the Scarabia students, and cast it under the guise of a routine check. The results made his stomach drop: the bone density and physical development indicators perfectly matched a child of twelve or thirteen, compounded by clear signs of dietary neglect.

The revelation hit Jamil like a physical blow. All his life, he had been forced to mature early to protect Kalim, but he had still been given food, shelter, and a clear role. Crowley had abandoned an actual child in a dilapidated house, expecting them to solve ancient curses on an empty stomach.

A dark, dangerous anger settled over Jamil, the kind of quiet, suffocating fury that usually preceded an absolute meltdown. He began to plan a highly sophisticated, untraceable poison cocktail that would make Crowley suffer a very long, very painful bout of "sudden illness."

Yuu, seeing the terrifyingly blank, focused look on Jamil’s face, immediately grabbed his arm. They begged him to stop, pointing out that solving problems with poisons and manipulation had nearly ruined his own life during the holidays, and that violence and revenge would only create a cycle of misery.

Jamil stared at the child, the raw honesty in their eyes piercing through his anger. He sighed, rubbing his temples, and put the vials away. He wouldn't kill the Headmage, but he would completely hijack Yuu's life for their own good. From that day on, Jamil personally prepared bento boxes packed with vitamins and proteins, sending them to Ramshackle daily, and kept a hyper-vigilant eye on Yuu, treating them with the protective intensity of a guardian older brother who refused to let another child suffer under his watch.

Vil Schoenheit

The truth came to light during a mandatory skincare and posture assessment Vil insisted on conducting for all the dorm leaders and the prefect. Vil had been analyzing Yuu’s facial structure and skin elasticity to recommend a proper regimen, but the data simply didn't make sense for a sixteen-year-old. The collagen levels, the dental development, and the clear signs of stunted growth from a sudden drop in nutrition all pointed to one horrific conclusion: Yuu was a pre-pubescent child, barely thirteen years old.

Vil’s perfect composure shattered entirely. His mirror cracked from the sheer pressure of his sudden, spike in magical energy. The absolute audacity of that feathered charlatan, Dire Crowley, to parade a literal child around as an equal peer, exposing them to toxic blot, physical trauma, and leaving them to waste away in a drafty, unheated dorm with sub-par sustenance!

Vil’s eyes burned with a lethal, regal fury. He gripped his magical pen, his mind instantly racing toward a public, utterly devastating exposure campaign that would dismantle Crowley’s reputation in the media, followed by a curse that would make the Headmage’s skin rot from the inside out.

Yuu, terrified by the sheer, imposing majesty of Vil’s wrath, stepped between him and the door, holding onto his immaculate robes. They looked up at him with wide eyes, pleading that a public scandal or a violent curse wouldn't make their life any easier, and that reacting with hatred would only ugly the soul.

Vil stopped, looking down at the small, earnest child holding his hem. The word ugly struck a chord. He took a long, steadying breath, letting his magic dissipate. He wouldn't stoop to Crowley’s level of ugly behavior, but he would take control. Vil immediately had Pomefiore’s finest tailors create a custom, perfectly fitting wardrobe for Yuu, infused with warming and protective charms. He established a strict, gourmet dietary plan rich in necessary nutrients, and declared that if Yuu so much as picked up a broom on campus again, Vil would hold the entire school faculty legally accountable.

Idia Shroud

Idia found out entirely by accident through a routine scan conducted by Ortho. Yuu had visited the Ignihyde workshop to return some borrowed tech, and Ortho’s internal bioscanners automatically logged their vitals into the mainframe. When Idia looked at the data overlay on his monitors later that evening, a massive red warning flag popped up: Subject age: 12.6 years. Warning: Caloric intake insufficient for optimal growth phase.

Idia froze, his blue hair flaring into a brilliant, panicked light blue flame. He stared at the screen, his social anxiety completely overwritten by absolute, unfiltered horror. He was a shut-in, sure, but even he knew the basic rules of society. Crowley had sent a middle-schooler—an actual, tiny NPC child—to fight high-level Overblot bosses, all while leaving them with zero budget, living in a house that looked like a survival-horror map, and eating literal garbage.

Idia’s fingers flew across his keyboard, his face twisted in a look of pure malice as he began overriding the school’s security protocols. He was going to hack Crowley’s bank accounts, leak his browser history to the magic ministry, and program a fleet of combat drones to carpet-bomb the Headmage’s office with heavy-duty plasma fire.

Yuu, who had been waiting for their tech, saw the monitors flashing red with targeting coordinates and quickly grabbed Idia’s hands off the keyboard. They reminded him that cyber-terrorism and drone strikes wouldn't fix their lack of groceries, and that using violence to solve problems just made everything more chaotic. Idia blinked, looking down at the tiny hands covering his own, his flames dying down to a subdued, nervous blue. He grumbled, cursing under his breath, but aborted the sequence. He didn't bomb Crowley, but he did weaponize his tech for Yuu's benefit. He immediately automated a drone delivery service that dropped off high-calorie, nutritious meal kits to Ramshackle three times a day, and modified Ortho’s programming to include a permanent "Protect Yuu" protocol, effectively giving the prefect a hovering, high-tech guardian angel wherever they went.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus discovered the truth during one of his nightly strolls around the Ramshackle Dorm. He had found Yuu sitting on the porch, wrapped in a thin, threadbare blanket, looking up at the stars. When Malleus sat beside them, he noticed how fragile they seemed against the night air. Humans were already short-lived, delicate creatures in his eyes, but when he subtly extended his fae senses to gauge their life force, he realized with a shock that their spiritual and physical development was that of a child who had not even reached their second decade—they were barely twelve cycles old.

The air around the abandoned dorm grew instantly freezing, the grass beneath Malleus’s boots turning to frost as a terrible, ancient pressure descended upon the valley. A child. A human fledgling had been ripped from their nest, brought to a strange world, and forced to endure the terrifying wrath of corrupted mages, all while the supposed "guardian" of this institution left them to starve in a broken and run down place like Ramshackle. Malleus’s eyes glowed with a terrifying, draconic green fire. He stood up, the sky above darkening with sudden, thunderous storm clouds as he prepared to fly directly to Crowley’s quarters and tear the roof off, showing the bird the true meaning of a dragon’s wrath.

Yuu, feeling the immense, crushing weight of Malleus’s anger, threw their arms around his waist, clinging to him with all their might. They looked up into his burning eyes, begging him to calm down, crying out that causing a massive storm and destroying the school wouldn't bring them home, and that violence never truly solved anything.

Malleus looked down at the small child clinging to his torso, their warmth a stark contrast to his icy fury. The storm clouds slowly dissipated, the thunder fading into a soft rumble. He knelt down, wrapping his heavy cloak around Yuu’s small shoulders. He would spare the Headmage for now, solely because his child-friend asked it of him. But from that moment on, Malleus’s presence became a permanent fixture in Yuu’s life. He ensured that the kitchens of Diasomnia provided the finest delicacies for the child daily, and made it known to the entire valley of thorns—and Night Raven College—that anyone who dared to overburden or neglect the fledgling prefect would answer directly to the future King of Briar Valley.

gosh this request was perfect, literally perfect, I have nothing to say- its making me want to make a younger Yuu oc just like this.

ft. Diasomnia

Context: Crowley forced a bunch of them to have a picture and call it a family potrait... The reason is to be unknown but what everyone can gather through conversation and overheard conversation is that, The headmaster wants to keep up appearances earances and picked the closest group of students in a dorm

Other dorms: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Commentary:

Can you do this but also for Yandere Malleus?

Yea sure ;3

Riddle is here

Vil is here

Azul is here

Yandere Malleus Draconia

No one had ever "stolen" anything from Malleus, so the experience would truly be a new one.

This happened at a time when you were still friends.

You and Malleus were out for a walk as usual when you asked to borrow his hat, and Malleus agreed.

This thought clearly amused him.

However, you "forgot" to return the hat at the end of the walk, and Malleus didn't seem to remember the whole thing.

You "only notice later" that you are wearing Malleus's hat, and you decide to return it the next day.

Malleus would notice in the morning that his hat was missing, and he wouldn't have to look for the reason very long.

The only one who would have the audacity to pull a stunt like that would be you.

The first time he saw you in public wearing his hat, it would trigger the awakening of his yandere feelings.

Malleus realized how happy it made him when you used something that belonged to him, and how he didn't want to let go of that feeling.

Malleus simply can't get over how wonderful you look wearing something of his.

The dragon part of the brain has been activated XD

When you give him the hat back, he just smiles and says you can keep it.

Without you realizing it, this little "trick" of yours would have major consequences that you don't yet understand :D

He keeps everything meticulously organized, so it doesn’t take long. He’ll reach up for it for you, and then spend upwards of five minutes just whispering back and forth with you about other books, answering your questions, etc.

he enjoys your small discussions, and your quiet company in the library. So the first time you invited him out for a walk and some coffee…he was so happy he almost seemed proud of himself. He had to talk himself out of texting his adoptive father to say “see?? I can make plenty of friends >:)”.

it only took him a few days and a conversation with said adoptive father to realize that wasn’t a walk between friends… you’d just taken him on a date.

Hi Anon,

I keep mentioning this, but I've got butter fingers and should never become a parent, given how often I lose these narratives. I had every intention of writing Flins as a well-meaning lover who assumes you know centuries-old Fae customs, but it got dark really fast for no reason. A full "If I loved you less, I would have left you alone." story beat. So we will be re-visiting this prompt once I understand what's wrong with me, but for now, fluff.

Anamarë - (bullshit fae language I made up from a previous fic)

Anam – Irish word meaning soul.

Arë – Quenya-inspired suffix (from Tolkien’s constructed language), meaning sunlight, warmth, or daytime.

Flins isn't unaware of the growing stories about his kind. With no one to dispel those rumours, they continue to grow into a cesspool of out-of-context incidents, false facts, and wildly exaggerated creative liberties. Occasionally, he lets himself laugh quietly at the next generation's stories about the Snowland Fae, particularly the idea that he might, apparently, kidnap and replace a child. What a disturbing, yet amusing thought. He wonders how that one came to be.

Still, he never makes any attempt to correct anyone, even while masquerading as a human who just happens to have spent a great deal of time studying old folklore. It would just be a whisper in an echo chamber, and he isn't in the market to start advertising his true form anytime soon. Perhaps it was this neutral bystanding that led him to this moment of misunderstanding.

"Flinsss," you whine, half your face buried in your silver cup of alcohol. It smells of dandelions and cereal, surprisingly pleasant for such a strong drink. Or maybe you just have a frighteningly low alcohol tolerance, judging by the way you're about to fall out of your chair. Flins keeps a hand hovering at your side, just in case he needs to catch you before you split your head open on the edge of the table.

you have to love your disabled partner even when you come home exhausted and the bedroom is a mess. You have to love us when there's a pile of dishes in the sink that's sat for three weeks. You have to love us when we have to shake you awake at night to have someone hold us to distract us from the pain. You have to be willing to take us to urgent care and the pharmacy and the hospital and you must be willing to carry our mobility aids or help us up stairs or open jars and cans and doors and be willing to go home early when we can't stand it anymore. You will have to deal with us having flare ups that may fall on birthdays or anniversaries or trips or other major events and not hate us for it (we hate this just as much as you do).

You have to love us when we are burdens. When you are exhausted from work, we will still be disabled and still need our pills and affection. I promise, I'm always doing the most I can. I promise. We are always, always doing the most and best we can. And many times, because we are disabled, sometimes our best is still not enough to get everything done that we need to.