Spin Me!

Can I also request a poly sbg x reader who likes cooking for them? (Specifically Korean and Taiwanese food) and they also like calling her mom?

Poly School Bus Graveyard x Reader - Cooking and "Mom" Jokes

Ashlynn, Taylor/Tyler, Ben, Aiden, Logan

I really liked this because my stepmom is Korean and I learned how to make some of these dishes and I like all the requests for SBG gang!! Anywayyy, working through each request slowly, trust the process!

-Writer Icy<3

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The reader enjoys cooking for the gang, often preparing delicious Korean and Taiwanese dishes that fill the air with mouthwatering aromas. Whether it's spicy tteokbokki, savory bulgogi, or a comforting bowl of beef noodle soup, the reader takes pride in the meals they create, finding joy in the act of caring for their friends through food.

Ashlynn:

Affectionate Teasing: Ashlynn loves to tease the reader, often calling them "mom" in a playful tone as she digs into whatever delicious dish they’ve prepared. She’ll smile warmly, saying things like, “Thanks, mom! This is amazing!” She appreciates the reader’s cooking deeply and often tries to help out in the kitchen, even if she’s not the best cook.

Quality Time: She enjoys spending time with the reader while they cook, chatting about anything and everything. Ashlynn sees these moments as a way to grow closer, appreciating the reader’s care and effort in making sure everyone is well-fed.

Tyler:

Genuine Gratitude: Tyler is less playful and more genuine in his appreciation. Though he might occasionally join in on the “mom” jokes, he usually expresses his gratitude with a sincere, “This is really good. Thanks.” He loves the reader’s cooking and always makes sure to eat everything on his plate.

Protective Support: Tyler often lingers around the kitchen, keeping an eye out for anything the reader might need help with. He’s quick to step in if something needs lifting or moving, trying to ease the reader’s burden without making a big deal out of it.

Taylor:

Playful Banter: Taylor is the ringleader when it comes to calling the reader “mom.” She’ll dramatically thank them, saying, “What would we do without you, mom?” Taylor loves to playfully exaggerate her appreciation, but underneath the jokes, she’s deeply touched by the reader’s care.

Flirty Compliments: Taylor is also the one to sneak in a flirty comment or two, complimenting the reader on how good they look while cooking, just to see them blush. She enjoys the warmth and comfort the reader brings to the group and never misses a chance to let them know.

Aiden:

Eager Appreciation: Aiden absolutely loves the reader’s cooking and is the first to pile his plate high with whatever they’ve made. He joins in on the “mom” jokes with enthusiasm, often saying things like, “You’re the best mom ever!” His genuine love for the reader’s cooking is clear in the way he devours everything they make.

Emotional Connection: For Aiden, the reader’s cooking is a source of comfort and emotional connection. He feels deeply cared for through the food they make, and it’s one of the ways he feels closest to them. He often lingers after meals, helping to clean up and chatting with the reader about anything and everything.

Ben:

Subtle Compliments: Ben isn’t one for overt affection, but he appreciates the reader’s cooking in his own quiet way. He’ll occasionally join in on the “mom” jokes, but his appreciation usually comes in the form of subtle compliments, (written in his journal) like, “This is really well-made,” or “You’ve outdone yourself again.”

Helpful Presence: Ben often offers to help with the more technical aspects of cooking, like adjusting the heat or making sure everything is timed perfectly. He enjoys the routine and structure of cooking with the reader, finding it a calming and grounding experience.

Logan:

Quiet Gratitude: Logan appreciates the reader’s cooking but is more reserved about it. He might chuckle at the “mom” jokes but doesn’t join in as often. Instead, he shows his appreciation through small acts, like offering to do the dishes or clean up after the meal.

Deep Respect: Logan respects the reader’s skill in the kitchen and often quietly watches them cook, fascinated by their process. He’s more likely to express his appreciation in a calm, sincere way, saying something like, “Thank you. This is really good,” after finishing a meal.

In this dynamic, the reader's love of cooking becomes a central part of their relationship with the group. The gang’s jokingly calling them “mom” adds a layer of warmth and humor to the relationship, making the reader feel appreciated and loved in return. The shared meals become a bonding experience, strengthening their connection and adding to the unique dynamic they all share.

Well, at some point I had to show up here... Hello!!!

I have read most of your writings, I love them.

How have you been? How have you feeling?

A question, do you think you can do a SBG x reader text? Some angst, I don't know... Maybe something to do with the Phantom world where the reader is so badly injured that his/her life is in danger, and the way each of the teenagers reacts.

(Only if you can, flower for you 🌹)

Omg your so sweet!! Thank you for the flower my star!! I appreciate your kindness<3

Recently, I threw out a storry on the reader sacrificing themselves for Tyler/Aiden and how theyd react, you can find it Here!!

If you want a more different story or headcannons or something, definitely dont hesitate to ask!! :))

Much love!!

-Writer Icy<3

I screamed, i was not expecting to get reblogged- Take your time!!!!

Im calling you out-

@chaoticspeedrun, as a follower (And Turtle lover) You and your art give me flustered panics. My co-writer Grem will also love your page- That is all, thank you<3

-Writer Icy<3

Misunderstood By Society (4)

Asylum Patient! Konig x Doctor! Gn! Reader

Warnings :Posted here

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The silence between us stretched, heavy but not suffocating. I remained still, keeping a respectful distance, my hands loose at my sides—neither defensive nor threatening.

König hadn’t moved at first, just watching me from beneath his hood. I could feel his stare, could feel the weight of it pressing down on me, analyzing, waiting.

Then, slowly, his large hand reached for the paper cup on the table.

I didn’t react, didn’t make a sound, only kept my posture relaxed as he lifted his hood just enough to expose his mouth. I barely caught a glimpse of his pale skin, the sharp cut of his jawline, before he tipped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry.

I made a mental note: Refuses water. Either out of habit or distrust.

Behind the two-way mirror, I could almost hear the stunned silence from Jacobs and the guards. They had expected a fight, a struggle. Instead, they got this—quiet cooperation.

I turned my attention back to König. He had tensed again, his hands gripping the edge of the table like he was waiting for something. A reprimand? A sarcastic comment? I wasn’t sure.

So I did the opposite.

I spoke.

Softly, steadily.

But not about him. Not about his medication. Not about the asylum.

"Back home, I had a neighbor who kept pigeons," I said, keeping my voice even. "He used to feed them by hand every morning, and they’d always come back to him."

König didn’t move. He didn’t respond, either, but he didn’t tell me to shut up.

I continued. "One day, a hawk showed up, and the pigeons wouldn’t land anymore. They were too scared. The neighbor was frustrated, thought they had abandoned him." I exhaled through my nose, a small huff of amusement. "But I told him they weren’t gone. They were just waiting for the hawk to leave."

Another beat of silence. Then—

"What is your point?"

His voice was sharp, edged with something unreadable, and thick with an Austrian accent. His words were clipped, like he wasn’t used to speaking much.

I didn’t react to his tone. Didn’t flinch, didn’t stiffen. Instead, I turned slightly, tilting my head at him in mild curiosity.

"My point?" I mused. "Maybe the pigeons aren’t the problem. Maybe the hawk is."

A pause. His grip on the table tightened. I could almost hear the way his teeth clenched behind the fabric of his hood.

"You think I am the hawk?" His words had a bite to them, an almost mocking edge.

I considered that for a moment, then shook my head. "No. I think you’re the one waiting for it to leave."

His breath hitched, just slightly, before he scoffed—sharp and quiet. "You think you are very smart, ja?"

I smiled faintly. "No. Just observant."

His head tilted slightly, like he was studying me, weighing my words.

I didn’t press him. I didn’t need to. Instead, I did something simple—something human.

I extended my hand.

A handshake.

A basic, polite gesture. One that said, I acknowledge you. I see you.

His posture went rigid, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with the gesture. He stared at my outstretched hand like it was something foreign, something unfamiliar.

For a long moment, he didn’t move.

Then, just as I thought he wouldn’t take it—

His fingers twitched.

And slowly, cautiously, he reached out.

His hand dwarfed mine, rough and scarred, his grip firm but not crushing.

It lasted only a second before he pulled away, retreating slightly like he had just given something away.

I didn’t comment on it. I simply nodded, as if that single moment had said enough.

Behind the mirror, I knew Jacobs was seething, the guards stunned.

But I didn’t care.

I wasn’t here to control König.

I was here to understand him.

...murder drones x Wall-E

That crossover ...turn it into a fic

STOP WAIT-

That's actually a good idea ....yay nay???

Konig Blurb Idea

Asylum Patient! Konig x GN!Doctor! Reader

Slightly sad fluff

I genuinely love the idea of asylum patient that's understood by their doctor through stories- Anyway! Enjoyyy!

-Writer Icy<3

They opened the well-worn pages of Beauty and the Beast, their words painting a vivid tapestry of enchantment. Konig's eyes followed the characters' journey with rapt attention, his head resting in Y/n's lap. His slender fingers traced the soft contours of their jawline, seeking a connection beyond the spoken words.

'Why is the Beast so lonely, Dr. L/n?' Konig asked, his voice a mere whisper.

'Perhaps,' Y/n mused, 'because he feels like an outsider, like his true self is hidden beneath a harsh exterior.'

'And the Beauty?' Konig inquired. 'Why does she love him?'

'Because she sees past his outward appearance,' Y/n explained, 'and recognizes the goodness within his heart. She teaches him the power of love and compassion.'

As the story unfolded, Konig's questions grew more introspective. 'I am like the Beast, am I not? Trapped in a body that frightens others away.'

A dull ache welled up in y/n's heart as they realized the extent of Konig's pain. 'That is not true, Konig,' they protested softly. 'You have a kind and gentle soul, a soul worthy of love.'

Konig raised his head and met y/n's gaze. 'Do you mean it, Dr. L/n?' he asked, his voice trembling with hope. 'Could someone ever love me for who I truly am?'

Y/n leaned forward and gently caressed Konig's cheek. 'I love you, Konig,' they whispered, their words echoing the transformative power of Beauty and the Beast.

A radiant smile spread across Konig's face, illuminating the shadows in his eyes. 'I love you too, Dr. L/N,' he replied, his voice filled with the newfound light of acceptance.

In that shared moment, the walls of Winchester Asylum seemed to dissolve, replaced by a timeless realm where love triumphed over adversity. As Y/n continued to read, Konig's breathing grew steady, his fears subsiding like the fading moonlight. Amidst the gentle rhythm of their voice and the tender touch of his fingers, they found solace and redemption in the pages of an enchanted tale.

hi, i quite like your posts. can i request yandere sbg x reader who always shows himself to be strong and independent even though he always wants comforting hugs or words of encouragement. if you don't want it, you can skip it. anyway, have a nice day :)))

Yandere SBG x touch starved “Tough guy” MALE! Reader

The gang

⚠️Warning: Yandere tendencies but cute<3

I loved this. It was just so cute guys UGH- ENJOY

-Writer Icy<3

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---

Ashlynn:

Ashlynn is the most intuitive when it comes to the reader’s hidden needs. She knows he won’t ask for hugs or comforting words, but she doesn’t wait for him to ask. She’s constantly finding excuses to pull him into her arms, pressing his head against her chest while whispering sweet words of encouragement.

“You don’t have to pretend around us, you know,” she coos softly, running her fingers through his hair. “We’ll always be here for you. Let me take care of you, okay?”

She’s possessive, wanting to be the one who provides the comfort he craves. Her hugs are gentle but firm, making it clear that she’s not going to let him go. She watches for every moment of vulnerability, ready to swoop in and be his protector—even if he doesn’t realize how much he needs it.

---

Tyler:

Tyler, while rough around the edges, is surprisingly tender when it comes to comforting the reader. He’s always ready with a protective arm slung around the reader’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace when he senses any sign of stress or discomfort.

“C’mon, tough guy,” Tyler grunts, pulling him close and resting his chin on top of the reader’s head. “You don’t gotta keep that strong front all the time. Not with us.”

Tyler’s hugs are overwhelming in their intensity, full of unspoken promises to shield the reader from anything that threatens to hurt him. His words may be gruff, but there’s a softness behind them, a reassurance that Tyler will always be there to catch him when he falls—even if he won’t admit that he needs it.

---

Taylor:

Taylor is always quick to shower the reader with physical affection, never shying away from hugging him out of the blue or offering him quiet words of affirmation. She senses that he needs someone to make him feel special, to remind him that it’s okay to lean on others.

“You’re strong, but you don’t have to be alone in that strength,” she murmurs softly, resting her head against his shoulder. “We’ve got your back, always.”

Taylor’s comforting touches are frequent but never overwhelming. She’s constantly by his side, holding his hand or hugging him from behind, subtly breaking down his defenses. Her words of encouragement come naturally, slipping into conversation in a way that makes him feel cared for without feeling smothered.

---

Aiden:

Aiden is the most eager to shower the reader with physical affection, especially since he knows the reader won’t ask for it. Aiden finds any excuse to hold him close, whether it’s pulling him into a playful hug or just sitting side by side, their arms touching.

“Hey, I saw you feeling a little down,” Aiden says with a grin, pulling the reader into a tight, warm embrace. “I’m here for you, Always.”

Aiden’s hugs are full of warmth, and his words are laced with reassurance. He loves being the one to break through the reader’s tough exterior, to make him feel safe and cared for. He’s possessive in the way he always wants to be the one the reader turns to for comfort, but his affection feels genuine, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

---

Ben:

Ben is more subtle but equally possessive in his need to comfort the reader. He watches carefully, always aware of the moments when the reader’s guard is down, ready to swoop in when he senses the reader is feeling particularly vulnerable.

Ben is quiet when he pulls the reader into a secluded corner and wraps his arms around him. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ben’s hugs are intense, almost suffocating in the way he holds on, as if afraid to let the reader slip away. His words are laced with possessiveness, a reminder that the reader doesn’t need to pretend to be strong around him—Ben will always be there, whether the reader wants him to be or not.

---

Logan:

Logan is shy and observant, always picking up on the little things that others might miss. He knows the reader better than anyone, understanding his need for strength but also recognizing the unspoken longing for comfort.

“Hey…Y’know,” Logan says quietly, his voice steady and calm. “We’re here for you, no matter what. Its okay.”

Logan’s approach is more understated than the others, but his presence is always reassuring. He’ll hold the reader’s hand, offering silent support, or sit beside him without saying a word, letting the reader know that he’s not alone. When Logan does hug him, it’s slow, soft and gentle, a moment that reminds the reader he doesn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

hey!!!!! Its me again!!! Wanted to ask for a reader who acts like art the clown from terrifier w/ Yan sbg cuz I just watched the 3rd one at the movie theater, basically reader is just autistic asf and doesn't rlly talk, they can they just don't, and they also kill the phantoms in extreme gruesome wnd sadistic ways, also instead of laughing at the phantoms normally while she tortures and kills them she acts like a mime and does the action of laughing or being surprised( Art the clown does this too) reader also draws extremely disturbing pictures of hacked and mutilated dead bodies, (+ Yan parents and maverick too, if you can><) also reader is pretty much frickin immortal, just like Art, if y don't know who art the clown is just search him up bur I'll put in a pic of him for u!

Hope this helps! I understand of u can't do it tho!

TERRIFYER READER x YANDERE SBG

SBG Gang and parents, ft. Maverick

Warnings:

TEHE okay I had to get some help from a friend who's seen them all so I hope I did this request justice :') ANYWAY, working through requests, im sorry it's taken so long, life got crazy and I forgot I had tumblr for a hot minute.... Requests will be getting answered, thank you guys for the paitence <3

-Writer Icy♡

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Reader's Traits:

Non-verbal communication: Reader rarely talks, preferring exaggerated mime-like actions to express themselves, mimicking laughter or shock in eerie, exaggerated gestures.

- Phantom Slayer: Reader kills phantoms in gruesome, sadistic ways—severing limbs, performing mock surgeries, or creating scenes reminiscent of horror artwork.

- Artistic Outlet: Reader draws grotesque depictions of mutilation and death in their sketchbooks, which both fascinate and horrify those around them.

- Immortality: Reader sustains grievous injuries but never seems to succumb to them, making them an unstoppable force in the Phantom realm.

- Dual Persona: In the real world, Reader is quiet, strange, and intensely focused on their art, drawing people in with their mysterious aura.

---

Yandere Gang's Reactions:

Ashlynn:

- Protective Fascination: Ashlynn is utterly entranced by your unpredictability and your silent demeanor. Your artistic abilities, though morbid, make her feel like she’s the only one who truly “gets” you.

- Defense Mode: She often steps in to explain your behavior to others, shielding you from criticism or fear, even as she secretly revels in how unsettling you are to everyone but her.

> Snippet:

Ashlynn knelt beside you as you sketched yet another grotesque image of a dismembered phantom, her eyes flicking between the page and your blank expression.  

“You’re incredible, you know that?” she murmured. “Keep drawing, I wanna see it when you're done.”  

When you mimed a theatrical bow in response and nodded, she chuckled softly, her fingers brushing against yours. “Don’t ever change.”

---

Tyler:

- Adoration Bordering on Obsession: Tyler is captivated by your silent strength. He finds your phantom-slaying methods disturbingly beautiful and sees you as a perfect partner in their fight to survive.

- Jealousy: He can’t stand the thought of others being drawn to your mysterious charm and often positions himself as your shadow, claiming to be your protector.

> Snippet:  

Tyler watched, spellbound, as you silently mimed cutting your throat in response to a phantom’s attack, then dismembered it with terrifying efficiency. When it was over, he approached cautiously, placing a hand on your shoulder.  

“What a badass,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Your just lucky no one’s scared of you” 

---

Taylor:

- Playful Curiosity: Taylor adores your eccentricity and miming antics, treating you like a puzzle she’s determined to figure out. Your gruesome kills intrigue her more than they scare her.  

- Defender in Public: Taylor is quick to defend you when others question your drawings or your unsettling behavior, even if it sometimes unnerves her too.

> Snippet:  

“Seriously, this is brilliant,” Taylor said, holding up one of your sketches. “I mean, yeah, it’s creepy as hell, but… who else could think this up?”  

When you pantomimed shock, holding your hands to your cheeks, she burst out laughing. “See? Like, c’mon not even horror producers can make this like they do!” She giggled as you pretended to blush, blowing a playful kiss before going back so scribbling intestines strewn across the page.

---

Aiden:

- Unsettling Connection: Aiden is the only one who truly matches your darker energy. He’s both disturbed and enamored by your methods, seeing you as someone who understands the chaos within him. You both enjoy shredding through phantoms and smiling like little maniacs. You’ve gotten a couple frightened looks from Logan from time to time.

- Possessiveness: Aiden doesn’t let anyone get too close to you, guarding you like a treasure he’s unwilling to share.

> Snippet:  

Aiden leaned against the wall, watching as you silently dismembered another phantom with surgical precision. “You’re terrifying,” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk.  

When you mimed laughter, he stepped closer, brushing a hand against your arm. “Terrifying… and mine.”

---

Ben:

- Unwavering Devotion: Ben is your biggest cheerleader, seeing your quiet nature and violent tendencies as proof of your uniqueness. He’s completely enthralled by your duality—terrifying in the Phantom realm but calm and composed in the real world.

- Silent Support: He doesn’t question your methods or your art, instead offering quiet comfort and encouragement whenever you seem withdrawn.

> Snippet:

“You’re talented.” Ben wrote, flipping the notebook around as he watched you finish off another phantom. You glanced up, halting you’re movements to dismember the phantom slowly. When you mimed a shy smile, he grinned back and scribbled down a quick and messy, “You’re crazy and talented.”

---

Logan:

- Controlled Admiration: Logan respects your abilities and your artistic mind but worries about how far you might go. He’s fiercely protective and always keeps a watchful eye on you, even when he struggles to understand you.

- Conflict: He occasionally clashes with the others about your well-being, insisting that they need to help you find balance rather than enable your darkest tendencies.

> Snippet:

Logan stood over your shoulder, peeking at your latest sketch, his jaw tight. “It’s amazing, but… is this really what you want to focus on?”  

You tilted your head, miming a shrug before turning back to your work. His hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Just don’t lose yourself in all this, okay?”

---

Parents' Reactions:

- Adoration for Reader’s Unique Skills: 

  The parents are endlessly impressed by your unmatched ability to deal with phantoms. They view your gruesome methods as a necessary evil, marveling at how you can handle what no one else can.  

- Hyper-Protectiveness:

  They grow obsessively protective of you, taking every precaution to ensure your safety both in the real world and the Phantom realm. They may even suggest or enforce stricter boundaries on your interactions with others, including the gang, to maintain control over your safety.  

They are fiercely protective of your unique abilities, often stepping in to defend you from others who might criticize or misunderstand you.  

- Justification of Behavior:

  They believe your artistic depictions and sadistic tendencies are simply a reflection of your brilliance and the trauma of the Phantom world. They see it as a necessary outlet and refuse to allow anyone, even the gang, to question or judge you for it.  

They see your quiet demeanor and gruesome art as a sign of depth and creativity, choosing to support you unconditionally.  

- Direct Involvement: 

  The parents actively support your behavior, providing you with tools, materials, and even strategies for taking down phantoms. They may also subtly manipulate the gang, ensuring that their focus stays on protecting you rather than trying to "fix" you.  

- Fear of Losing You:

  Seeing how much danger you put yourself in while fighting phantoms, they secretly harbor a deep fear of losing you. This fear often manifests in obsessive planning to keep you safe, including discussing ways to trap you in the real world or even the Phantom realm to monitor you closely.  

---

### **Specific Opinions:**  

- Admiration Cloaked in Denial:

  Your parents admire your strength and efficiency, but they rationalize your sadistic tendencies as a coping mechanism rather than addressing it. They refuse to see you as anything but perfect.  

- Pride in Your Independence: 

  They often express pride in your independence and ability to protect yourself, even as they secretly plot ways to make you more reliant on them emotionally and physically. 

---

Your parents’ actions and opinions fuel the already intense dynamic with the gang, creating a volatile environment where everyone is vying for your attention and control while claiming it’s all for your safety and well-being.  

Maverick:

- Maverick is intrigued and slightly unnerved by your behavior but ultimately respects you as an ally. He’s in awe of your ability to keep the phantoms at bay and often seeks your advice on survival tactics to which you do your best to show all the while silently laughing when he falls on his ass a couple of times. It’s an…experience to say the least.

---

Your sadistic, efficient methods make you a key player in the group’s survival. The gang grows more and more dependent on you, their possessiveness increasing with every phantom you kill. In their eyes, you’re their protector, their artist, and their soulmate all in one. Nothing—not even death itself—will take you away from them. 

Misunderstood By Society (6)

Asylum Patient! Konig x Doctor! GN! Reader

Warnings: Posted here

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The box of activities in my arms wasn’t much. Simple things—some puzzles, a few basic sketch pads, even a stress ball. It wasn’t about the activities themselves. It was about control. König had none in this place. Every decision, every movement, every choice was made for him. I wanted to change that, even in small ways.

But first, I had to get his food.

I made my way to the meal cart, already spotting Jacobs lingering nearby. I should have expected him. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Didn’t take you for a babysitter, doc," he mused, his voice thick with faux charm. "Bringing the big guy toys now?"

I didn’t take the bait, simply setting down the box and reaching for König’s tray. The moment I lifted the lid, my stomach turned.

The food was bland—overcooked, dry, and utterly unappetizing—but that wasn’t what caught my attention.

It was the faint, crushed-up remnants of something mixed into the potatoes.

I frowned, glancing at the kitchen staff behind the counter. "What is this?"

One of them hesitated, looking over at Jacobs, who didn’t bother to hide his grin.

"Standard procedure," he said smoothly. "Gotta make sure the big guy gets his meds one way or another."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "And this is the best you could do? Bland, disgusting, and drugged?" I looked back at the tray. "No wonder he doesn’t eat."

Jacobs’ smirk didn’t falter. "You’re new here, doc. You don’t get how things work."

I exhaled through my nose, turning fully to face him. "Oh, I understand just fine. I understand that König reacts to you the way he does because he distrusts you. And do you know why, Jacobs?" I tilted my head slightly, my voice eerily even. "Because you treat him like an animal."

The grin on Jacobs’ face twitched, just slightly, before hardening into something else.

I saw the shift in his posture, the way his muscles tensed, the way his jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to people calling him out.

He took a step forward, lowering his voice. "Careful, doc," he murmured, his tone dripping with warning. "You’re playing a dangerous game. You’re new. They can replace you just as fast as they hired you."

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, I simply smiled.

Not a kind one.

A cold one.

"Then I guess we’ll see who lasts longer."

Jacobs' eyes flickered with something unreadable, something dark, before he huffed a quiet laugh and backed off. "Suit yourself."

I grabbed König’s tray, picking up my box of activities, and walked away without another word.

When I returned to König’s room, he was where I left him—sitting on the floor, his hood drawn low, his posture stiff but less guarded than before. His eyes flicked to the tray in my hands.

I set it down in front of him before carefully removing the plate and wiping the mashed potatoes clean with a napkin. The faint traces of crushed medication smeared onto the paper, proof of what had been hidden there.

König’s gaze lingered on my movements.

I pushed the plate toward him. "It’s out. You can take the pills when you’re ready."

He didn’t move at first.

Then, slowly, his fingers curled around the fork. He picked at the food, shoving the vegetables aside until only the meat remained.

I made another note: He only eats the meat.

The water sat untouched.

I noticed the subtle way his fingers twitched toward it before retracting.

He was hesitant. Suspicious.

I picked up the napkin, holding it up so he could see the powdery remnants. "See?" I said quietly. "It was in the food, not the water."

His fingers flexed again.

A long silence stretched between us before he finally reached for the cup.

He didn’t drink right away.

But he held it.

And for now, that was enough.

The small table between us felt like a fragile boundary, something uncertain but unbroken. I had spread out the activities—simple things, nothing complicated. I wanted to see what he gravitated toward, what caught his interest.

König eyed them warily, his large hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The pencil I had set near the notepad remained untouched. His fingers twitched toward it but never quite closed around it.

Minutes passed before he finally picked it up.

I didn’t move. Didn’t offer guidance. I just watched.

He held it awkwardly, his grip too tight, his movements stiff. When he tried to press it to the paper, it barely scratched across the surface, the pressure uneven. His breathing changed—shallow, irritated. The tip of the pencil snapped, and he gritted his teeth.

His fingers flexed, and the pencil rolled from his grip onto the floor. He didn’t pick it up.

Instead, he reached for the puzzle.

I wrote in my notes without making a sound. Hesitant with fine motor skills. Difficulty gripping pencil. Signs of memory loss? Discomfort? Frustration.

The puzzle pieces were large, meant for children, but he didn’t seem to care. He worked through them slowly, his massive fingers surprisingly careful as he fit the edges together.

Then, quietly, he mumbled.

The first time, I thought he was speaking to me.

But then I realized—

He was talking to himself.

His voice was low, muttering in German and occasionally switching to English. It wasn’t nonsensical. It was structured, like a conversation.

"Here? No—there. That piece is wrong."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"No, it fits—see?"

A pause.

"It does not. Try again."

He was responding to himself.

Like two halves of his mind were speaking to each other.

I kept writing. Conversational murmuring. Auditory hallucinations? Inner dialogue?

I didn’t react. Didn’t try to stop him.

König’s fingers trembled slightly when he got a piece wrong, his breathing uneven. He paused, his hood dipping forward, hands curling into fists before relaxing again.

Still, I said nothing.

He noticed.

"You are quiet." His voice cut through the room, sharp and suspicious.

I looked up from my notes. "Do you want me to speak?"

He stiffened, clearly not expecting the question. His fingers twitched again. "You are a doctor," he muttered. "You are supposed to… show me how it is done."

I set my pen down. "Do you want help?"

Silence.

His shoulders tensed. His fingers tapped against the table once—twice. His head tilted slightly beneath the hood, something unreadable in his posture.

He didn’t answer.

And I didn’t press.

I leaned back in my chair. "I believe people should ask for help when they need it," I said simply. "After they’ve tried to find a solution first."

König’s breathing was slow, measured. He reached for another piece of the puzzle.

This time, he fit it in correctly.

He exhaled—quiet, barely noticeable. But I noticed.

And I wrote it down.

Reminder of what you know

2012 Mikey x GN! Reader

Fhahfhht guys I'm sorry, Raphael may be my bbg but like...Mikey is so sweet :( anyway, I am closing requests for School Bus Graveyard bc I don't get requested anything else :')

Much love!!

~Writer Icy♡

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Mikey sat on the rooftop, his legs dangling over the edge as he stared up at the stars, his nunchaku resting beside him. The night was quiet, save for the distant sounds of the city below. His usual sunny demeanor seemed dimmer, his shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world.

When Y/N climbed up to join him, they immediately noticed something was off. Mikey wasn’t cracking jokes or bouncing around like he usually did. Instead, he looked lost in thought, his orange mask slightly frayed from fidgeting.

“Hey, Mikey,” Y/N said gently, sitting beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He glanced at them, his bright blue eyes shadowed with worry. He let out a sigh before speaking, his voice unusually soft.

“It’s my brothers,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know they’re just trying to keep me focused and all, but… lately, it’s like everything I do is wrong. Raph’s always telling me to ‘grow up,’ Donnie’s constantly pointing out my mistakes, and even Leo’s been getting on my case. I know I mess up sometimes, but…” He trailed off, his voice cracking slightly.

Y/N placed a comforting hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Mikey, you’re amazing just the way you are. They might not always show it, but your brothers love you. They just have a funny way of expressing it sometimes. You don’t have to change who you are for anyone.”

Mikey looked at Y/N, a small, grateful smile breaking through his gloom. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Y/N replied firmly. “And I think you need a reminder of how awesome you are.” They stood and held out a hand, their eyes twinkling with excitement.

“What are you doing?” Mikey asked, tilting his head curiously.

“We’re dancing,” Y/N declared, pulling him to his feet. “Come on, Mikey. Let’s forget about the world for a while.”

Mikey’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as Y/N spun him around on the rooftop. “Dancing? Here? Now?”

“Why not?” Y/N said, grinning as they twirled under the stars. “No rules, no criticism—just us.”

Mikey’s heart swelled as he watched Y/N move with joy, their laughter filling the night air. He joined in, spinning and swaying with them, his usual carefree spirit reigniting.

“You’re totally the best, you know that?” Mikey said, his voice soft as he held Y/N’s hands and guided them into a playful dip.

“I’m just reminding you of what you already know,” Y/N teased, their smile as radiant as the stars above.

Mikey grinned, his worries melting away as he pulled them into a gentle spin. In that moment, with the city lights twinkling below and the stars shining above, he realized how lucky he was to have someone who saw the best in him—even when he couldn’t see it himself.