I Did A Thing...after Reading School Bus Graveyard....

Happy Holidays!!

Okay so I finished everything in my ibox!!! Im so sorry if I didnt do your request, I just did what was sitting so i think tumblr ate some stuff!

Either waaayyy I had times where I woke up and randomly started writing stuff! SOOO I will be posting those!! Much love and Happy holidays to everyone!

-Writer Icy<3

Remember to support the artists you love, likes don’t spread their work….

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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.

Little Blurr

V x Fem! Drone! Reader

....if y'all couldn't tell- I've got a soft spot for V and there's not enough writings on her....I also love this idea, especially when Uzi jumps onto her like a lil parasite omg..

Anywayyy enjoy!! I will be taking a break of some other writings to do requests!!!

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V stalked through the rusted remains of the factory, her processors already bracing for impact. It always came at the worst times—just as she was focusing, just as she let her guard down. A blur of black and yellow would come screaming from the ceiling or an air vent, latching onto her like a parasite. And every time she peeled the annoying little cockroach off, Y/n would have some smug, flirty remark ready.

But today?

Nothing.

V made it across the main floor without so much as a rustle from the rafters. No blur of metal limbs. No annoying weight suddenly clinging to her shoulders.

She should’ve been relieved. She wasn’t.

Fifteen more steps. No pounce.

Okay. Weird.

V’s optics flickered, scanning her surroundings. The place was silent—too silent. Normally, by now, she’d be yanking Y/n off and enduring some dumb quip like, "Miss me? You’re really bad at dodging, babes." But all she got was the distant creak of metal in the wind.

Her claws flexed, irritation bubbling up.

“Alright,” she snapped, voice echoing off the steel walls. “Where the hell are you?”

Silence.

V’s eye twitched.

She marched forward, kicking over a rusted crate. “What, you finally got bored of being insufferable?” Another crate went flying. “Or did someone finally squish you? ‘Cause if so, I wanna shake their hand.”

Still nothing.

Her frown deepened. She hated this. It was too quiet, too still. It made her chest feel—ugh—weird.

V whirled around, optics glowing. “If you don’t drop on me in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna find you and rip your stupid little—”

She didn’t get to finish.

A weight slammed onto her back, sending her stumbling forward. Arms wrapped around her shoulders, legs locking around her waist.

“Aw, V, I knew you cared~” Y/n cooed, chin resting on V’s head.

V froze. Then her claws clenched.

“YOU LITTLE—” She yanked Y/n off, holding her up by the collar like an oversized cat. “Where the hell were you!?”

Y/n smirked. “Oh? Did you miss me~?”

V’s circuits shorted for half a second before she let out an exasperated groan, throwing Y/n into the nearest scrap pile. “I HATE YOU.”

Lying in the heap, Y/n just grinned, optics twinkling with mischief.

Oh yeah. V was so doomed.

Misunderstood By Society (1)

Asylum Patient! Konig x GN! Doctor! Reader

SOO... I've finally decided to make this an actual story. Heeyyy @gremlinmodetweeker Thought you might like it!!! ♡♡

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The scent of old books and sterilized floors filled the office, a strange combination of history and control. Mr. Wiles sat across from me, his gnarled hands resting atop a folder marked with thick red ink—KÖNIG. The name alone carried weight. I had heard it whispered through the halls before I even stepped foot into this office, spoken in hushed tones by orderlies and doctors alike.

"You're aware of the assignment, Dr. Y/N?" Mr. Wiles' voice was soft, deliberate, but there was something unreadable in his gaze.

"Yes, sir," I replied, sitting up straighter. "König. High risk. History of violent outbursts. Resistance to treatment."

Mr. Wiles nodded, flipping open the file. His brow creased ever so slightly as he traced his finger down the page. "He's... difficult. Bigger than any of our other patients. Stronger. He has attacked staff before, and his reactions to sedation are—" He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. "Severe."

I had done my research before taking this position. König had been here for years, in and out of high-security confinement, yet no one had truly reached him. The reports were conflicting.

Some described him as a mindless brute, others painted him as an intelligent but deeply scarred man, one who refused to speak unless it was in anger. He never removed the hood that obscured his face. Some believed he never would.

"He refuses his medication," I said, watching Wiles closely. "And he doesn't react well to needles."

"He despises them," Wiles confirmed. "We've had to restrain him on more than one occasion. It only makes things worse." I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my mind was already turning.

König had spent his life fighting—whether it was his past, his captors, or himself, I didn't know yet. But the approach they had taken so far wasn’t working. Restraints, forced medication, treating him like a caged animal... of course he resisted.

"And my role?" I asked.

Mr. Wiles closed the file, exhaling through his nose. "You're his personal caretaker now. You’ll oversee his treatment, manage his outbursts, and—if possible—try to reach him. You will be the one he sees the most, the one responsible for ensuring he doesn’t become a danger to himself or others." He met my eyes.

"No one has succeeded yet, Dr. Y/N. Many have quit. Some were injured. You are new, and I admire your determination, but I must ask—are you certain?"

I held his gaze. "If no one has succeeded, then that means no one has tried the right way yet. I don’t believe in giving up before I’ve even begun." Mr. Wiles studied me for a long moment before a small, knowing smile crossed his lips.

"I thought you might say that." He pushed the folder toward me. "Your first session begins tomorrow morning. Be careful, Doctor. König may not be the monster they say he is... but he is still dangerous."

I took the file, gripping it firmly.

"We'll see."

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.

So, I've recently beat this game called, First Cut, where you play as a mercenary Samurai (or Ronin? Since you looked pretty washed up) you get hired to kill a bunch of bad guys. What made it unique, was that one hit and you're dead, which made it more fun, challenging, and realistic.

Which brings me to this request. I wanna make a request for Gwen, Aurelia, Monika, and Renee (CPC). How do they react to finding out that their sweet s/o used to work as an assassin, a sword for hire when they were still in Japan?

CPC with an S/o who used to work as an assassin or sword-for-hire in Japan

Gwen, Monika, Renee, Aurelia

This was super cute!! I don't know much about Samurai (unless you count TMNT or Mortal Kombat part of it) soooo I hope you enjoy this, I did my best!

-Writer Icy♡

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Gwen

-Shock and Concern: Gwen is initially taken aback, wide-eyed and speechless. She had no idea her kind and gentle partner had such a dangerous past. Her first reaction is to worry about their safety, asking if they were ever in danger or if those days still haunt them.

- Wanting to Understand: Despite the shock, Gwen would want to understand the reader’s past, asking them why they became a mercenary. She’d be genuinely curious but also concerned about how it affected them emotionally.

- Loyal Support: Even with the surprise, Gwen’s love wouldn’t waver. She’d offer quiet, empathetic support, perhaps even asking if the reader ever wants to talk about it or seek closure from that chapter in their life.

Aurelia

- Cool Curiosity: Aurelia might find the revelation intriguing. While still surprised, she’d probably respond, writing something like, “An assassin? That’s impressive, honestly. Did you ever use cool tricks or disguises?”

- Slight Worry: Aurelia would have a lingering concern about whether that life could ever pull the reader back in. She’d hope they’re done with that part of their life and that nothing from their past could come to harm them now.

- Real Talk: Once the worry is over, Aurelia would ask some serious questions, like if they had any regrets or if anyone from their past might try to track them down. Beneath her cool demeanor, she'd be fiercely protective of them.

Monika

- Complete Surprise: Monika would be completely taken aback. The idea of her sweet, loving partner once being a sword-for-hire would feel like a total contrast to the person she knows. She’d probably ask, “Wait—*you*? An assassin?!”

- Fashion Spin: After the initial shock wears off, Monika might focus on the aesthetic side of things, asking what kind of outfits or armor they wore while working as a mercenary. She'd want to know if their sword techniques were as graceful as their presence now.

- Teasing Admiration: She would likely tease the reader a bit about their past, playfully pretending to fear them or jokingly asking them to teach her some sword moves, impressed by their skill and the intensity of their history.

Renée

- Deep Thoughtfulness: Renée would be quiet at first, processing the information carefully. She might ask, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” not out of anger but out of concern for why they kept it hidden.

- Healing Perspective: Renée, being health-conscious and focused on well-being, would ask how the reader feels about their past now. She’d worry if they carry emotional scars or unresolved guilt from their time as an assassin.

- Compassion: She’d offer support, both emotionally and physically, making sure they feel safe and loved despite their darker past. Renée would even suggest meditation or calming practices to help if they have lingering stress from that time.

^^^ @omega-e123

please can we do inbox trick-or-treating this year. can we make that a thing on tumblr. please please please please please

Late Night Latte

Modern! Barista! Cedric (the sorcerer) x Fem!College Reader

OKAY OKAY PLEASE DONT YELL AT ME IM SORRY I LOVE YOU GUYS, IM WORKING I SWEAR<33333

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Cedric ran his fingers through his dark hair, letting out a soft sigh as he wiped down the last of the coffee machine. The small coffee shop was nearly empty, save for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of paper. It was 9:50 p.m. on a Thursday, and he was just about to close. His shift was nearly over, and he was already mentally thinking about his plans for the night. Maybe he’d read a book, maybe he’d try something new with his spellwork, but either way, he was looking forward to heading home.

As he wiped down the counter, the little bell above the door jingled. Cedric glanced up, his annoyance already bubbling to the surface as he saw the tired-looking girl walk in. She looked like the type of person who wouldn’t leave until he practically begged her to. Sure enough, she shuffled up to the counter with a yawn and a slight slouch.

"Hey," she mumbled, her voice husky with exhaustion, her eyes half-lidded. "Could I get a caramel latte? Extra shot of espresso."

Cedric forced a polite smile, but he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. "Sure. Anything else?" he asked, trying to hide his irritation. He was so ready to go home.

"No, just the latte," she replied, sliding a few crumpled bills across the counter.

He rang her up with a quiet grumble under his breath, taking the money and turning to make her drink. He had learned to manage his impatience over the years—working with people all day and night had done that to him—but something about this late-night rush always rubbed him the wrong way.

He couldn’t help but notice how the girl seemed almost invisible to the world. Her hair, messy and tied loosely into a bun, matched the dark circles under her eyes. Her clothes were simple and worn, like she was far too tired to care about anything other than getting some caffeine. But even then, she had a determined air about her, like she was pushing through exhaustion with every step.

As he worked, Cedric found his eyes flicking over to her. She didn’t seem like the type who normally came into the shop, but maybe that was because she only ever showed up just before closing. The last few nights, she’d come in, ordered the same drink, and left just as quietly as she arrived.

It became a strange routine. And as Cedric pulled the espresso shots and steamed the milk for her latte, he couldn’t help but wonder why she looked so damn tired. College student? Probably. Working late? Definitely. But what was it that kept her coming back at this hour? There had to be more to it.

Cedric finished making the latte and slid it across the counter with a soft smile, handing her the steaming cup. She nodded, grabbing it without much fanfare.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her tired eyes glancing up at him for a brief moment. "You’re still open tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, same time," Cedric said, his annoyance fading just a bit. She always seemed so lost in her own world, like she was too worn out to engage in much conversation.

"Great," she whispered, then turned and walked towards the door, the bell jingling softly behind her as she disappeared into the night.

Cedric stood for a moment, leaning against the counter. He had no idea what her deal was, but he started to realize he expected her now. It wasn’t just the late-night rush or the tired look on her face. It was something else—a habit forming, a strange connection between them that neither of them acknowledged. It was the ritual of her visits that made the late hours a little less lonely, a little less tedious. She wasn’t just a customer anymore—she was a part of his evening.

---

It became a consistent pattern. Every night, just before closing, She would shuffle in, order her caramel latte with the extra espresso shot, pay, and leave. Cedric had even started preparing her drink before she ordered, knowing exactly what she wanted. He still didn’t know her name, but it felt like an unspoken bond—he served her, and she came back.

One night, as she walked in, looking even more worn-out than usual, Cedric gave her a knowing look. She smiled faintly at him, and for the first time, he saw a spark of something more than exhaustion in her eyes.

"Hey," she said, leaning a little more heavily on the counter than normal. "Sorry, I know I’m your last customer every night…"

"Don’t worry about it," Cedric replied, setting to work on her drink. "It’s not like I have anything else going on."

She laughed softly, though it sounded more like a tired exhale. "Same. College life… you know how it is. Late nights, endless deadlines. I swear, I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore."

Cedric gave a half-smile as he slid the caramel latte over to her, a bit more gently than usual. "I get it. I used to be in your shoes. Still am, actually. Just different kinds of deadlines."

She chuckled quietly, taking the cup and glancing at him for a second. "Thanks. You know, I’ve been coming in for a while now, but I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name."

"Cedric," he said, his voice softening. "And you’re Y/n, right?"

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, surprised that he remembered her. "Yeah, wow… that’s kind of sweet. You must be a better barista than I thought."

Cedric smirked a little. "I try."

They stood there in the small, quiet space for a moment, the world outside seeming far away. And for once, Cedric didn’t mind that he was staying a little later than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Cedric," Y/n said with a small but genuine smile.

"Same time?" he asked, already preparing to pour her drink again.

"Same time," she confirmed, then walked out into the night.

Cedric watched her leave, the door closing softly behind her. Maybe he wasn’t just serving coffee anymore. Maybe, just maybe, there was a bit more magic to these late-night visits than he’d first thought.

Can someone please tell me if they see the masterlist and rules at the top of my page?? ...to me, it looks like it's missing-

I really don't wanna rewrite that whole masterlist again 😭