#☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

Yandere! Serial killer x Sadistic Reader (final part)

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Sadistic behavior, Mentions of Stalking. y’all ik I ask you every post but PLEASE read the note at the end! Part 1 is here part 2 is here. Enjoy!

“What…”

You mean to tell me your best friend of ten years has secretly been conspiring with your stalker!? After all you’ve confided in her, all you trusted her with, the secrets you’ve shared, have been relayed to another person in the twisted name of love!?

“He’s- I-…” she sighs, attempting to regain her composure.

“You remember in 4th grade, when I liked that boy? Evan Daniels? I had the hugest crush on him,” she giggles a bit, snotty and nostalgic.

“I was convinced we’d be together forever; get married, have five kids and two dogs. But that all changed when I confessed. He told me… he told me he liked you. My best friend,” you gotta be joking. All of this just about some guy in elementary school that you don’t even remember!?

“It’s not about that!” she explains harshly, her gaze shifting from sympathetic to something much darker.

“When he told you he liked you, you agreed! You knew how much he meant to me. I got over it sure, but the years after that… nothing ever seemed to change. So I became popular but you did too, I started wearing makeup and so did you, I found my passion and you just so happened to like it too. You were always better than me; hated it! You liked all the attention you got, the praise and looks of adoration. So when I found out what Keegan was doing… why would I try to stop it?” she smiles to herself before looking back up at your glossy eyes. The bright lights of police cars spread through the area and loud voices call out for you.

“How long has this been going on?”

“How long have we been friends?” She smiles. That bitch!

“You were my best friend so it wasn’t hard to give him the information he wanted; killing Gill was just a plus,” she walks closer to you, pushing down on the dirt. Keegan tightens his hold on the axe and narrows his eyes but stops when he sees you glance over to him. “All I’ve been doing was working behind the scenes and guess what, it paid off,”

“I’m sorry things had to turn out this way,” she looks at you one more time before heading into the opposite direction as Keegan advances towards you. There's no way you're letting this slide. Your first move is to jump towards her and push her to the ground, hitting her face in as hard and fast as you can. Despite Keegan's attempts to retrain you, you grab a loose clothes pin from your costume and stab the area near his eye. In the midst of his screams, you sprint through the woods more quickly than ever. Yeah, it's dumb, but with Malika blocking the way of the police and a psychopath standing before you, you had no choice.

As you rushed to hide behind a tree, it felt as if you had been running for years. It's better not to look back, not to make a noise, to remain silent and out of sight, you think to yourself. It makes no sense how you've gotten here. I mean, you know how you got here, but you can’t rack your brain. It does explain why she always tried to sway you from going to any authoritative figure. Why she would grin to herself the handful of times you’ve lost competitions, why she all of sudden had a thing for Gill after you mentioned how cute he was. The blood on your hands fills your nose with the scent of metal and plastic. The air in your lungs has long left and your legs ache from how you sprintied every which way. This is all your fault. Just when you think you’ve reached the end, you hear bright lights shine your way and a voice calls out but when you turn your head Keegan stands before you.

“Found you,” a hand grabs at your ankle and you take the last clothes pin you’ve kept clutched at your side and stab it straight through. They howl and pain and you take this opportunity to dash your way into a different hiding spot. He regains his composure and brushes off the wound like it’s nothing. Following you into the dark before screaming out.

“You can’t hide from me forever, darling. I always know where you are,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

You were his muse.

Ever since freshman year he knew you were the one. It was love at first sight really, you’ve just been placed in Hon Visual Arts Program, seated right next to each other. How could someone be this beautiful! He would always be scribbling in his little sketch book pictures of you in all of your glory. He’d always try to talk to you but that witch you call your best friend took up all your time. You’d talk every once in awhile but never noticed who he truly was and nothing could ever satisfy the craving he had for your love. So, he took it upon himself to fill up various different pages of you; from enjoying your time around campus to painting upon paintings lining the walls of his basement in more lewd positions. However, his favorite artistic liberty was creating faces. I know it sounds weird but the way he could replicate one’s features down to a T was incredible! From paper mache masks, to clay, to porcelain dolls and to your horror, skin.

“Hey, (Y/N)! I was wondering if you could help me with a project of mine? You're the greatest fashion designer I know and I can’t think of anyone else to do this for me,” aw how sweet! Of course you’d help him.

You two worked like dogs the next couple of days, working so much in sync, his movements felt like your own. You felt so comfortable around him and became so close throughout your sessions. Eventually, after the project was done he asked you to hang out after school, no work involved. Coincidentally, that’s when the same eerie notes popped back into your life. You were shocked. How could this happen? You thought this was all over with and pushed it into the deepest part of your mind. You became so paranoid and Keegan picked up on it lighting fast, wonder why.

“Sh, it’s okay. Look at me, baby, look at me. Shh it’s okay, I’m here. I’ll protect you,” you ignored the baby part, to wrapped up in your own anxiety to actually be paying attention to anything other than your safety. It's ironic now that you think about it; the person you trusted the most is now the person you’re currently pulling a Usian Bolt on.

Oof!

You’re tackled to the ground and before you could react, your hands are tied behind your back and his axe pins your shirt to the wooden stump behind you. He’s out of breath and panting, hands coming down to rest on your waist. He straddles you and you struggle before he knocks you out cold. He sighs hauling your body over his shoulder and dragging his weapon behind him. His large frame somehow goes undetected through all the chaos he’s created.

“Why are you always running from me, Darling?”

………………………………………………………………………………….

It’s dark and cold and the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own heavy breathing. Fuck! Why is this happening?! What did you ever do that deserves this? The weighted sounds of boots from the floor above grow closer as someone descends down the stairs. Soon, your blindfold is ripped off but the gag in your mouth remains. It’s him. He looks at you sympathetically, like a puppy who knows they’ve done something bad but couldn’t stop itself. Right next to him stands Malika, battered and bruised from your assault. You take in your surroundings, and as she flicks the light on you see it. A shrine filled with you, and I mean that quite literally. From your hair to used panties and explicit photos. Some are from the earliest years of highschool and some are as recent as last week.

However, what really catches your attention is the mural on the old brick wall behind them. A empty mannequin standing front and center waiting to be dressed. There, the faces of all you once knew lie. From Mr. Sicowutz- the teacher that lead you to this death trap- to the freshly scalped features of Gill and his side piece.

“I’ll admit, you really did a number on me. I never would’ve expected that from you,” she says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Stepping closer she winds her hand back and hits you as hard as she can, rendering you even more less concise than you were before. Again, Keegan fits the handle of his weapon at the sight of her touch but does not say anything.

“I loved you, (Y/N). I really did. But after all, you’ve took from me? I could never forgive you. Goodbye,” with that said the axe swings down on her back, slicing straight through the skin and muscles. Oh, you didn’t think this was the end did you? She lays on the ground and does nothing but watch as you're freed from your binds. Keegan rubs the bruise she left on you face and attempts to massage your tender wrists but you brush him off.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You really had me questioning myself for a second, Malika. I didn’t know if I could go through with this but, we all need a reality check every once in a while,” She stares wide-eyed before croaking out a small “how?”

“Oh c’mon, you really think I didn’t know? Just like you said, I’m better than you; always two steps ahead. I’m not stupid. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, I really did,” she still looks confused attempting to crawl away but Keegan picks her up and places her on a hook attached to the wall. She looks even more confused so you give her the explanation she rightly deserves.

“It all clicked to me when I realized how much you encouraged me to go to my that last school. How, when I brought up the letters again you acted like you didn’t know what I meant. How you smiled like a Cheshire when Gill rejected me,” Keegan scoffs at the last part but all you do is smile.

“I dug a little deeper and found out the truth. He told me everything. Neither of you are good liars. So like the good puppy he is ,” you say, grabbing his chin bringing him down to rub his head, kissing his cheek lovingly.

“He helped me with a plan. I was the one who dragged you here. Who made you think you had the upper hand, let you carry on with this delusion of yours,” you snatch the axe from his hands before swinging it above your shoulder.

“I loved you, Malika. I really did. But after all, you put me through. I couldn’t ever forgive you. Goodbye,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“The anniversary of what is now being called the “ Mayham Massacre” at the annual Freak do Shek carnival is this coming Halloween night. (Y/N) (L/)- Victim and former schoolmate of the killer known as “The Mask Maker” speaks about their experience with the crazed lunatic and how they feel with the reopening of the festival. Here’s Jim Saltovy reporting live”

“Thank you Carla’s. So, M(r/rs/s/x) (L/N) how did you know him?”

“Well it all started in highschool when me and my dear friend Malika were transferred to an art class. I-“

This channel is boring. Hm… is there anything else to watch? Oh I know, some good ol cartoons! As he lays his head in your lap snuggling closer, you finish the last details of your mask for this year. Albeit a little slimey, it’s just how you remembered to be. Somehow managing to make it out of his grip, you stumble down into the basement . Placing the mask in the finnish costume, you smile.

“Perfect,” you say shutting off the lights and making your way back up straits where your crazed lover awaits. She may have always hated being I second but this year she’ll definitely be first.

Hey y’all! I wanted to start off by saying I hope you enjoyed my Halloween special! It took a lot outta me. I did become lazy at the end so… yea. I wrote and edited this part all in 1 day 😭. I also recognize that the dynamic between reader and yandere isn’t touched upon as much besides backstory and that’s on purpose. I was experimenting with a third party character that’s not the main or y/n for future story’s. This was based off the movie Hell Fest, so go check it out if you want to; I think it’s on Netflix still idk.

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬

!Deathstroke; Slade Wilson Edition!

Yea…no.

Sure, you knew when signing up for this job that you’d be dealing with the worst of the worst. You knew that the amount these guys racked up is probably more than your yearly salary. You knew that this was a building filled with maniacs and lost souls. You knew that. What you didn’t know is that you’d have to be dealing with this guy.

Slade Wilson; mercenary, assassin, business man, and just over all powerhouse. You will say that he isn’t the worst on your roster, but he isn’t the nicest either. It doesn’t matter to you though, everyone in here could be thrown into the same category. You snapped out of your thoughts when the telltale buzzing sound hit your ears, signaling that your next patient was here. The conversation between you and the guards was routine; telling you the patient's name, what they're here for, blah blah blah. As they leave, Wilson takes the seat right across from you instead of the much more comfortable couch. You suspect this to be some sort of intimidation tactic, lessening the distance between you so you feel uncomfortable. He wants to make himself look bigger, badder; you’re not falling for it. Noting this makes you feel more certain so you puff out your chest more, head held a little higher.

“Good Afternoon, Mr Wilson. I’m Dr. (L/n) and I’ll be your new physiatrist and occasional therapist,”

“Occasional?”

“Yes, occasional. Lord knows how understaffed we are,” that last part was mumbled under your breath, or at least, you thought it was; seeing as you earned a chuckle from the mane across from you. Yes, this is a good start.

“So, Mr Wilson,” you perk up a bit

“Is there anything you’d like for me to know about you? Any worries, concerns, hobbies, things of the sort?” He pauses, his good eye analyzing you from top to bottom. His brows furrow slightly and the cuffs around his wrist slightly flank against each other from the tapping of his leg.

“Just one,” he says in a deep voice sending shivers down your spine. Not like that…I mean, yes like that, but could anyone really blame you? Just look at him.

“Anything, Mr Wilson,” you smile lightly as a sign of welcoming. You know whatever comes out of his mouth won’t be the most savory, no matter how severe, but you won’t let him see any weakness.

“How long do you think you’ll last here?” you’re about to inquire the meaning of his question but get caught off before you could ask.

“It’s obvious someone like you isn’t meant for a place like this. Too kind, too friendly, too small,” the octave of his voice goes down a little at the end.

“You’d get eaten alive in here,” you smile, soft and content. You sigh a tiny bit before looking up from your notepad looking directly at him.

“You’ve know me all of,” you take a glance over at the clock to the clock

“…five minutes and you’re already making assumptions. Even implying I quit the job I spent 13 yrs practicing for. How inconsiderate, Mr Wilson,”

The playfulness in your voice brings back that slight tug of his lips and melodic chuckle. Two (Y/n) zero Slade Wilson.

“One could say that’s the whole point of your job isn’t it? Making assumptions. Trying to see what you think would help people like us; analyzing us as soon as we step through these doors,” damn, 2-1.

You return to smile again, this time in defeat, still never losing the airiness to it.

“Touché. However, I’m not so worried about assuming. It’s human nature to do so, is it not? You see a guy standing in a dark alleyway, hoodie covering his face, hands tucked deeply in his pockets,” you rummage through your desk drawer before pulling out two erasers. One a cow face and the other a little pig. You set them down in front of you before continuing.

“You’ll think one of many things; A, he’s a smoked out crackhead waiting to ask for some money. B, a low life thug ready to mug you for all your worth, or C, a murder in the loose ready to make you his next victim,” you glance up at your patient, he seems confused as to where you’re going with this. Good.

“My point is that everyone assumes. No matter what. It’s my job to separate the lies from the truth m. To find out who you really are,” you smile for the nth time, he starts to grow annoyed. How can you be so carefree with someone like him?

“You gonna tell me where you’re going with this?”

“Tell me, Mr Wilson,” you point to the erasers you previously set out.

“Which one of these do you think is my favorite?” He shoots a quick look at his choices and then back at you. He assumi-…guessing that you want to prove a point, make him see he’s wrong. Not gonna happen. He takes his time, he knows about you, how could he not. Everyone knows when fresh meat gets sent into this hell hole, easier to manipulate. When he heard you were assigned to him he did some digging into your history, but… he couldn’t find anything. A regular person with an irregular job. There has to be a reason for this. Earlier when tried to assess you he thought you were nothing but another innocent to be corrupted, but from the situation that he’s in now… he’s assum- guessing he’s wrong. Damn… you are good. 3-1.

“Neither,” hm? What is he talking abou-

“It’s the one on your pencil. That’s your favorite,”

You laugh, of course he’d figure it out. Ever since you two started talking you’d fiddle with the end of your pencil from time to time. The little bunny remains stationary at the end of it. 3-2.

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” he smiles before man-spreading his legs a little wider, shoulders falling back slightly.

“Well, Deathstroke, I just give credit where it’s due. However,” you say dragging out the last syllable.

“One thing you failed to notice this one thing,” you for some god unforsaken reason flip the eraser inside out and his face drops.

“It’s a sheep,”

4-1

I kinda lost motivation at the end so it’s a lil sloppy and doesn’t really make sense ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Just tryna get over my writer’s block and last week's bust ass schedule. Hope you enjoyed it anyways.

Love, Sosa❤️

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

Mentions of blood! Mentions of Death! Mentions of mutilation! Mentions of Murder, GN! Reader, NReader/Diolouge uses a lot of black colloquialisms/AAVE *slightlyyyy black coded but only for the speaking bits. NO APPERANCE MENTIONED!* READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLZ! (●’◡’●)ﾉ Part 2 here Part 3 here

Halloween.

The day where people grasp the fact that the summer's over and the seasons have finally changed. Corny decorations on front porches, masks in windows to scare unaware customers, and people dressed as slutty cartoon characters.

You loved the last one. You’ve always worked hard on your costumes; from a small cameo in the school yearbook to entering contests and pageants. You loved fashion, everything about it. The different fabrics, colors, patterns; you cherished it all. So, it’s no wonder that’s what you’ve chosen as your destined career path. You somehow managed to get into the third most prestigious fashion school. I say third because the first one you applied for, was full of egotistical French exchange students who do nothing but compare their lives at home to their lives in America. The second… well, you don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, you’re so grateful your talents have been recognized.

That leads us to now. At the biggest fright fest of the year. Your professor decided that if everyone got at least a 95% or above on the unit test, he’d take the whole class on a field trip to the annual Freak do Shek Carnival. A free trip and creating a new costume? You’ve never studied harder in your life. You spent days working on your costume; hoping to win the annual costume contest.

“Breaking news! The killer know as the “Mask Maker” is still on the loose and is currently suspected to be in the Witchwood area. It is recommended for all residents to stay indoors travel in groups-,”

Your heart sinks.

No, no, no! Why does it have to be now? Why here? The area you lived in was one of the safest in the city! Police patrolled regularly, security systems were available to all, and most people have been traveling in groups these days. So, why? You look at your friend, Malika, who no doubt received the same alert as you did, judging by her face.

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now!?” She yells in frustration. You all have arrived at the festival and the bus has already taken its leave. Unless you call an Uber, there’s no way out; but then again, with a killer on the loose, no person would be dumb enough to let any stranger in their car. You tell your teacher your concerns, but does he listen? No.

“We’ll be fine,” , “just travel in groups,” , and “make sure you check in with everyone at least every 15 minutes,” is all he says to shake your worries. Great job by the way. With that, he goes ahead with another one of the chaperones, probably on their way to get drunk on cheap beer and look at young girls. Pig.

“I know I ain’t stayin for damn sure,” you chuckle at Malikas abrasiveness and nod your head in agreement.

“Who’s gonna pick us up though? We all came here on a bus and no Lift driver is stupid enough to let strangers in at this time,” you both sigh and end up agreeing that she’d call her boyfriend to come get you. The only downside is he lives in the next county. That means 3 whole hours plus some that you two have to try and rid your paranoia.

“How ‘bout we go check out the costume display for the upcoming show? Maybe scope out some the competition?”

“You know what Malika, that sounds like a great idea,” she holds out her arm and you take it , laughing your way down the hay covered dirt path wearily dodging scare actors. Unbeknownst to you the glowing eyes of one of the masks are filled with anything but fake intent.

“Hey, Mal? Is he on the way yet?” You two have already viewed the display, concrete knowing you’re gonna knock everyone at the park. So you decided that maybe a little sightseeing wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ugh! He said he’s on his way but knowing him, that means he just got in the shower,” with a deep sigh she puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Look,” she continues

“ How about we go get something to eat and enjoy what we can. I mean, we did wait all year for this,” you’re a little hesitant but you end up caving; fried oreos do sound good right now.

The walk to the concession stands is filled with jump scares from actors, Jack, o lanterns illuminating your path and the laughter of children and adults a like. The environment reminds you of why you came here in the first place, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

Oof!

“Oh I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” to wrapped up in the scenery and nostalgia, you failed to notice one of the actors scrambling by. You hear the muffled laughter of Malika and try your best not to strangle her to cover up your embarrassment. Fortunately , it was just the water that spilled on them; Unfortunately, your oreos lay spread eagle on the ground. However, even with a soaked costume and powdered sugar all over their boots, they remain in character. Only giving you a tilt of the head, a grunt, and tightening their grip on their axe. The eyes that lay behind the papier-mâché mask boar deep into your soul, the white contacts holding something deep and dark. The feeling of guilt is slowly washed away and replaced with anxiousness. Man, they're getting employee of the month. Still, you feel bad so you grab the napkins from your back pocket and gently wipe their mask, some of the fake blood coming off along with the water. Hmm, these effects are off the chain too.

As you clean them up you can’t help but to think that they’ll join the costume contest, definitely giving you a run for your money. You're snapped out of your thoughts when Malika pulls you along the road, whining about how upset she is because she didn’t get to snag one of your Oreos. Making your leave, you look over your shoulder one last time, only to find those same white eyes trailing your figure.

My god, you're even more beautiful up close.

“Personally, if that happened to me I’d kill myself,” once again, your friends laughter snapped you outta your own mind. You just giggle and brush it off.

“Shut up! It’s not like I did it on purpose! Besides he was kinda fine not gon’ hold you,”

“I know right! the way he titled his, had a tear running down my leg not gon’ lie,”

“Girl… don’t you gotta man? Like… on his way here?”

“Shhhh don’t ruin the fantasy,”

Two hours have officially passed, the same old texts between Malika and her boyfriend, this time however he was actually in the car. She had pressed him to turn on his location for safety, you could never be too sure now can you? He should’ve been here by now but with how crowded the festival is getting, you can’t blame him. Thankfully, the contest is just about to start! Going against your better judgment, you and Malika thought that being apart for about 15-20 mins wouldn’t hurt. She’ll be waiting in the audience while you go change anyways.

Rushing to the changing rooms you fail to notice another contestant coming towards you just as fast. For the second time this night you managed to bump into someone.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean I-,”

“Watch where you’re going bitch! Y’know how long it took me to make this thing?” You look to the left and then to the right trying to figure out who the fuck they think they’re talking too.

“Look I didn’t mean it, I’m sorr-,”

“Yea yea whatever, just stay outta my way next time. Besides, it’s not like you're gonna win this thing anyways,” just before you were about to give them a piece of your mind, the manager stepped in and separated you two. Jeez now this is gonna take even longer than you expected. You thought it was only fair to let Malika know shoot her a quick text. “No worries, babe! Gill's location says he’s here already so Imma grab us a quick bite to eat before I look for him and we head to you. See ya soonnn❤︎︎!!!”

Good; that buys you just enough time. After getting changed and checking your reflection for the hundredth time, you step out feeling as confident as ever. Just as you exit the stall, you hear the worst blood curdling scream of your entire life. You look over to your right and see that asshole from early and that guy with the really nice axe murder costume. Your eyes have to be deceiving you! One of their legs is completely severed, blood dripping from the stub left behind. Slash marks, deep and crooked, adorn their arms and remaining leg. They Look as if their limbs could snap off at the slightest breeze. They cry and groan as they reach out to you. Following their eyes the crazed murder shifts his eyes to you. Their weapon of choice freezing in their hands mid swing. Their victim continues to moan in pain and crawl away, begging and pleading for someone to save them. But…you just laugh.

“I see what you're trynna do here, and it ain’t workin’. Your costume is good but it isn’t better than mine. Assholes,” the last part is mumbled under your breath as you walk away. Even though you presented yourself in this prideful manner, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that bubbles inside you. You tried really hard this year, let’s just hope that everyone else thinks you did too.

CHOP

Finally. Holding up the severed head he smiles, crooked and eerie. The bitch wouldn’t stop screaming, but at least he gets to see the look of fear in their face forever.

“Hey! What the hell’re you doing!?” hm? Turning around he sees the manager from earlier, standing before him with wide eyes filled with shock and anger. He can’t have his plans be ruined by a little slip up! He didn’t mean to act so impulsive but he couldn’t help. Nobody talks to you like that; not if he had something to do about it. Swinging his weapon of choice up on his shoulder, he’s about to take a step before he’s interrupted.

“Didn't I tell you guys to keep all spare props in bags because of the fake blood?! It gets everywhere and I’m the one who has to clean it up!” They shoved him to the side before grabbing a large trash bag from the cart they lugged behind them; simultaneously grabbing a mop and bucket. Continue to grumble about how “they don’t get paid enough for this” and “all the newbies are irresponsible”. But hey, free disposal.

“Sh, sh it’s okay; it was never your fault,” you tried comforting her but to no luck. All she can see is red as the burning hot tears streaming from her eyes ruin the makeup she spent so long on

“Okay?! It’s not okay (Y/N)! He said he was stuck in traffic all the while he was toungin’ down some bitch in a slutty cat costume. Very unoriginal btw!” You try to keep your giggle in for her sake. You kept trying to tell her this idiot wasn’t any good for years but nooo “the dick was too good to let go,” and apparently, someone else thought so too. Her weeping continues before she builds up the courage to speak again.

“All I wanna do is go home; fuck this competition,” you smile seeing her personality shine through her sadness just a little.

“Yea, fuck this competition,”sure you’re sad about to being able to participate this year, but with your best friend in distress and a serial killer on the loose, you can’t help but to think that maybe you could wait until next year. Ordering the Uber, you suggest that before it gets here, you should check in with your teacher first. Of course you don’t have his number and you're sure your other classmates are not worried about their phones unless they’re snapping pics and recording for their stories . You send them a quick text to your classes group chat and look for the exit.

“He really is a dick, you don’t need him,”

“Yea, I know. Besides, maybe that axe guy will take care of him for me,” she giggles but you don’t find it funny at all.

“What?”

“Yea, I saw him outta the corner of my eye when I walked in on he who shall not be named about to fuck that other girl,” she rolls her eyes and continues walking but you remain stationary.

“You gotta be joking,“ she turns around and gives you a quizzical look so you continue further.

“He and another dickhead I bumped into put on this whole show to get me to drop outta the contest. Lost limbs, fake blood and everything. I don’t know what his problem is, but he needs to leave me the fuck alone before I get the manager, on some Karen shit”

“Now that I think about it, he has been high-tailing us ever since we’ve got here,” she freezes before looking at you dead on. She wipes away the tear stains and brushes her nose against her sleeve before scanning the area.

“You don’t think it’s Kee-,”

“No! Don’t. It’s not him. It couldn’t be,” she holds up her hands in defense before pulling you along to get the hell up outta here. It goes dead silent, tension filling the air. It couldn't be him! It’s just some rando whos jealous of your skill! But…your mind was just playing tricks on you. That feeling of paranoia started to rise again and the flashbacks felt like they were hitting you in waves. She saw this and decided to speak up before it got worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I really didn’t mean to-,” this time it’s your turn to cut her off. You offer her a light smile and hold her hand in yours before squeezing.

“It’s alright. Besides, who needs men anyways. You’re all I need,” she gives you an even brighter one, her usual self returning, before squeezing just as hard, laying her head on your shoulder while you walk.

“Yea, fuck men,” you two laugh in sync before changing the conversation to what you’ll do when you get home; maybe a Horror movie marathon and some junk food will cheer you up. Who cares, the night has just begun for you and there’s no way anything was gonna ruin it.

Watching you walk away a gloved hand slams into a tree. Dammit! You won’t get away so easily. You’re his. Nobody else’s. He’ll make sure of it. Starting with her.

Hello everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed the first part of my Halloween special. I’m breaking this down into 3 parts because I’m afraid people will think it’s too long if I put the whole thing on tumblr. I will be making an Ao3 and the whole fic will be posted without any split up. When it’s created and up I’ll let you know. Hope you enjoyed Loves!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎.

-Love, Sosa❤️

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒꥟✧☀︎︎

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬

!TWO-FACE/HARVEY DENT ADDITION!

this shit had me doing back flips. one of y’all need to help me figure out this link thingy before i quit. ٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

Harvey Dent. A respectable businessman, lawyer, best friend of Bryce Waye, and millionaire playboy. After the chemical explosion, his life changed forever, something inside him trying to claw its way out. Or should I say someone? With his literal other half, he now wore the name Two-Face. Somewhat of a crime boss, not as established as BlackMask and not as sophisticated as the penguin; a very loose interpretation. One of the most dangerous rogues in Gotham, that’s for sure.

Walking down the hall to your destination, you press the button on the side of the metal door to request entry. This office is way bigger than you expected it to be. Compensation for who and what you’ll be having to deal with on an almost daily basis. Setting down your boxes on the large desk, you look around and take a deep breath. As the hour passes you decorate your room to your liking. You sit down in your swivel chair spinning around from time to time to ease your nerves about the arrival of a new patient. You’ve heard many things about Mr. Dent, but unfortunately, none of them are any good.

You hear a loud buzzing sound, signaling to you that someone is here. Hearing the jingling of chains and muffled voices, you see two guards use slight force to push Harvey through the door.

“Good Morning Ms. (L/N),” says the warden.

“Morning Brahms, How are you?” Whatever he says is lost because your eyes land on the man searing your skin with his gaze. You shift from one side of his face to the other, cautious to not stare at the more grotesque side in order to not make him uncomfortable. You’ve read in the files that Two-Face doesn’t appreciate eye contact very much. Understandable.

“Anyways,” says Brahms, snapping you back from reality.

“This one has a bit of an attitude this morning, if you want we could stay and make sure no funny business happens,” gesturing to the guard holding Harvey’s opposite arm.

“That’s alright, sessions are meant to hold some sort of privacy anyways,” From your peripheral you see Two-Face narrow his eyes at you, less hostile, but one shows skepticism and the other slightly appreciative. Creepy.

“Alright then, we’ll be right outside if you need us,” and with that, they walk Harvey to the bench on the opposite side of the room and leave. He stares at you unmoving, likely assessing you.

“So, Mr Dent, or should I call you Two-Face?” You wait for a reply but he stays silent, leading you to continue.

“I’m Dr. (L/N); your new therapist and/or psychiatrist depending on what they see from outer sessions, knowing this place they’ll make me do both,” you mumble that last part under your breath.

Again he doesn’t respond, so you continue on with your introduction. Tell him what you read in his files, what you expect out of your sessions, the works. As you're talking though, you somehow miss the ringing of the chains and handcuffs. Before you know it he’s made his way around your desk with a hand around your neck.

“You talk too much,” he says, lifting you off the ground and slamming you against the bookshelf behind you. You grasp at his wrist a little as you gasp for air.

“I could just end you right here, y’know that? What’s it to me?” He stares deep into your eyes, so much for not liking eye contact. He’s about to speak again when he feels a sharp jolt through his body. He drops you and flies back, crouching down on the floor. You reach up to your throat and cough up a little before speaking,

“I don’t mind a bit of choking, but nothing near as homicidal. Didn’t your mother teach you how to treat a lady?”

“What the- What the fuck was that?” He grumbles out slowly trying to stand back up.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve myself, how’d you think I managed to stay here as long as I have?” He looks at you with curiosity and searing anger. His expression changes as both his eyes widen and lips slightly part as he watches the forming bruise on your neck slowly disappear.

“Don’t look so surprised Mr. Dent, you’ve probably seen more impressive things,” you straighten out your clothes, fix your hair, and push your glasses back into place. You slowly walk over to your seat and gesture at him to go back to the couch. He begrudgingly complies still in shock…literally.

“You’re a very hostile one Mr. Dent, want to tell me what that’s about?” He goes blank again, mumbling “You deal with this,” before a softer more weary expression manifests on the right side of his face.

“I’m sorry Dr. (Y/N), he’s never really liked any of the therapists here,”

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Dent, as you said before I am your new doctor. I look forward to working with you,” you say with a soft smile.

“Now, I believe I asked you a question earlier,” he heaves a deep sigh, turning his gaze down to his feet and hands sliding down his face in exhaustion before continuing.

“He just- he just doesn’t like other people. He can barely tolerate me, always trying to fight his way past me,” you hum as an encouragement for him to continue.

The remaining session goes over pretty smoothly except for a couple of protests from Two-Face when Harvey picks out his flaws. They’re surprisingly calm, just has a bit of a temperament. You write the last note in your pad and close his final.

“Thank you, Mr. Dent; Two-Face. It’ll be quite the experience working with you two,” and with that, the timer signaling the end of your session rings. The guards walk him and take him away, but, before they can drag him all the way out, he glances back at you one last time with a slight smirk.

“Thanks for today Doc, I’ll be sure to use all that new information later,” he says, glancing down at your neck. The guards look at him, between each other, and then you. They give you a quizzical look as you just raise an eyebrow. As they walk out you sit there a little confused. You couldn’t seem to decipher which one of them was talking. That thought is pushed to the back of your mind as two different guards bring another patient in. Well, we’ll just have to see how the next session goes.

[scremogirl]

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬/𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hello everyone! If you didn’t see my intro post in my pins, my name is Sosa/Sos (So-S)

𝐊𝐞𝐲/𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

★♑︎☆彡𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎✪𝐍!☆♏︎★

✧✩🜚𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐂 🜸𖤐✰

✩𖤐☆𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄…

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★

⚠︎︎-Smut

❤︎︎-fluff

☹︎-Angst

!REQUESTS OR ALMOST ALWAYS OPEN!

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

Bleach

Naruto

JuJutsu Kaisen

Gangsta

One piece

Demon Slayer

Hunter Hunter

Haikyuu

Kuroko no Basket

Saiki K

Dc

Marvel (Includes spiderverse)

Avatar

Ocs; such as yanderes etc.

Slashers

Monsters

Twisted Wonderland

God of War (This is mostly self indulgent but if you ask I will)

𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐥𝐥 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

(In the order above)

All characters except; Momo, Hiyiori, Toshiro (romantically, I can write platonically like friends), Orohime, Neil, kakakura school squad, child characters (Toshiro and Neil fit this for me), Yami, almost all sterwritter except for a handful (request one or message me and I’ll tell you if I do it or don’t). And sometimes Renji (I can only see him with Rukia sometimes).

All characters (If you request Orochimaru imma kill you)

All characters (Except panda, Mahito, and puppet form mechamaru. If you request any of these ur weird)

All characters

All characters

All characters (except Murichiro, Nezuko, Gyokko, Daki, Uzui (+) wives, Iguro and Mitsuki; THEY ARE MADD FOR EACHOTHER AND NOBODY ELSE)

Phantom Troupe (+) Illumi (No Hisoka)

All characters

All characters

Saiki only

Almost any DC character you can think of I’d probably write for them. (Except joker I will refuse)

Justice League (Cartoon)

Justice League Unlimited(Cartoon)

Same thing as DC. A little less for this one but still.

X-men evolution

X-men anime

Everyone but Tuk and Spider (1st and 2nd movie)

Yours or mine

Almost anyone but Chucky

No Goblins

All characters but Ortho and Grim

Kratos

⚠︎︎ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎⚠︎︎

NO BODILY FLUIDS EXCEPT ☾u♏︎.

Blood play

BDSM (maybe some light bondage)

Knife play or any weapons

Play 🍇 (maybe dub-con but I’m not sure)

Incest/Step-cest

“Daddy” kink (kinda a hypocrite for this but I will write for “Mommy”. Papi/Pa/Papa is all okay for me.)

Anal

Not that’s it’s a “No go” for me but I don’t write for things that don’t match me. For example; I will not write for other races or body types. That’s why I prefer to keep all my “y/n’s” either gender neutral, afab, only describing them with black features, or just not describing them at all.

Everything else is pretty much on the table

Lastly, I am in school so I can’t say that my posts will be consistent. But my goal is to try and post an Imagine, Full Fic, and headcanon every week. They all might be on the same day, one on Mon and 2 on Fri, scattered throughout the week. My goal is just to post at least 3 diff works a week. We’ll see cause I might give up 😭. *Update 10/5/23; I realized that I post an Aot fic at least once every week at this point. It’s eqsy for me to write them so it might be a weekly thing. I’m not sure tho let me know what you think*

Prompts and Req are welcomed. All you need to do is tell me how you wanted formatted, headcanon, full fic, imagine or even one shots. Then tell me your idea or prompt. I’m open to making new friends and you don’t even have to req anything, we could just interact. If you are having a hard time finding a post of mine just copy and paste one of the keys provided above into the tags. I also need to figure out how to turn posts into a link. Help plz. THANK U.

- Love, Sosa.

Just as an FWI, this is temporary until I set up a new and improved list. Be a little patient as it it will take a while to do.

Thank you ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒꥟✧☀︎︎

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬

For some people it’s a dream job; being able to look into the minds of the most ruthless, dangerous, and hardened criminals in all of Gotham. Others think it’s a death sentence, thrown to the wolves with no way out. Many staff come and go, psychologists, therapists, nurses, police wardens, you name it. You on the other hand…well, you’re not too sure. You haven’t been here for long, about 3-4 years, but all that time was spent being an assistant. You didn’t know what you wanted to be in school, considering dropping out and doing trade. That was until one of your old friends pitched a phsycology class to you

“Oh come onnn (y/n), it’ll be fun. Besides, if you pass the final you’ll get a certified internship. Maybe that’ll help you figure something out”.

You don’t remember what compelled you to do but you did. One thing you didn’t expect is that you’d be an intern working under an Arkham doctor. You stick around long enough to reep the benefits of it all, now becoming a licensed doctor with two degrees. You’re friend on the other hand, quit at the mention of Arkham. Something about killer clowns, a 10 foot tall humanoid crocodile and a literal scarecrow; all that mumbo jumbo. You don’t speak to her anymore. Albeit a little upset she left you to go down this road alone, you're thankful she helped you discover a passion you would’ve never thought you had.

With that being said, all of that leads you to today. You’ve been assigned to the most dangerous wing in all of Arkham. The last doctor quit, or got fired…ran away? Again, something with a killer clown. You don’t know, all you really care about is the fact that now everyone’s schedule is changing and you have been assigned to new patients. Whose your new patient?

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞y 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧