#the secret killer

[zu-is-here]

A gift for @window-nv by your Secret Santa (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)☆

˚✧₊⁎Merry Christmas!⁎⁺˳✧༚

And a big thank you to @utsecretsanta for hosting the event ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Nightmare by jokublog

Killer by rahafwabas / rahaf-wabas / rahofy-sketch

[sualne]

your body isn't your own

[banemaus]

they're always on some bullshit

[madkat09]

is it 2014 yet?

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 28

Thomas stared down at Bruce-no- Danny as he led him by the hand toward what he had dubbed as his "Secret Lair" which was just an old fall out shelter in the woods that had been well hidden and forgotten about. The door to it was old and still buried under years of dirt and plant growth, requiring Danny to phase them into it which made Thomas wonder how his grandson had found it in the first place.

Inside was surprisingly high tech. "You have a secret lair filled with all this equipment but don't have any weapons or armor?" Thomas asked, making mental preparations to fix that.

Danny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and explained his only allies were two other 14 year olds who were also untrained, unarmed, unarmored, and unsuper-powered which would explain why Danny was so excited to be working with an adult vigilante who at least knew what they were doing.

The kid didn't even mind when some of his more evil or harmful rogues "stopped showing up" thankfully no one would really question the reclusive Vlad Masters "going back to Wisconsin" only to never be seen again. No one saw much of him before coming to Amity Park, it made since he would become a hermit again once he had his fill of human interaction.

And if hes later found dead in his cheese castle? Well, the body had decomposed too much to really say what killed him. His will left everything to a Daniel James Fenton/Daniel James Masters which visibly infuriated Danny. Thomas mentally patted himself on the back. It was a good call to get rid of that one. The will was a surprise, though one that can only benefit Thomas in his crusade of protecting his grandson. Its not like he can return to a timeline that no longer exists anyway.

Unfortunately this doesn't stop the bats from hearing about "Batman" operating in a city in Illinois for the past few months...

[marveltournaments]

[rejonaanojer]

Queen Deltaswap take

clank clank clank clank

[bebemoon]

Top 3 fashion icons from any films?

iii . queen margot of "la reine margot"

ii. maria merryweather of "the secret of moonacre" (with the vivienne westwood orb on a ribbon choker to boot)

i. cruella de vil of "1o1 dalmations"/"1o2 dalmations"

[somegrumpynerd]

Imagine being Cross, thinking he's so cool and mysterious for staying with someone outside of the castle for a night and not telling them about it and then he gets to Epic's house in the omega timeline and he's like "hey man, one of my roommates is hanging with his friend with benefits or whatever, I hope you don't mind" and it's fucking Killer

[galacii-gallery]

I was your secret Santa @flebdoodle ! Merry Christmas ^^!

It was a lot of fun to participate @utsecretsanta and thank you for running this event!

I hope everyone else has a good Christmas!

[nomlioart]

drew some of my fav aus raaahh

@xbeih @ali-borsch @sillykimiko @tinderboxofsillyideas @kairokust @bobmirum @frostinepac3 👉👈

also bonus lmao don't ask

and another bonus- 💀 (stay tuned...)

[kitakunn03]

jeff and toby headshot sketches bc i love them

[sualne]

killer bullying kid

[24kvlaks]

THE DIVINE

(Slenderman x admirer reader)

Plot-someones been leaving notes for mister slendy. ALL FLUFF.

There he was, reading the cards that someone was putting up, cards near his drawings. Long seeming admiration letters.

Did they find out he was a monster? But no, to them he was God.

In the letters attachments were tiny symbols on the very back of them. Wrapped tightly in a red ribbon, it wouldn't mean anything to any other God, but that was his symbol.

It honestly made him intrigued yet angered. Someone manage to go through his woods-unnoticed.

Maybe one of the kids gained Stockholm syndrome. If so that'd be a problem, though he would've sensed it.

A huff left him-frustrated.

Recently one of the kids got sighted and deep web reports some of the activity and some are already worldwide conspiracies.

He's a God, yet with no blood or any recent humans to feed on in decades he was getting weak.

Humans were getting smarter, not letting their kids out, or going out alone. Every adult came in groups of 10. He likely could defeat them but it'd risk getting sighted.

Of course the kids didn't know, because his strength still outmatched children, because kids are still kids even with supernatural power.

He had to get it under control because eventually one of the kids will see one and question it.

Despite that, he never threw them away. Just tore them off and placed them in a box near his desk.

The person already knew he existed, who else would be tearing up the papers? These woods had been abandoned for years.

Later when he returns, if he has time he'll reread them. Trying to see if there were clues left behind why you were doing this. Maybe you were taunting him or another God daunting his abilities.

Though he couldn't find any secret messages. As if you really admired him.

Thousands of thoughts came colliding. Maybe you were a child looking for a way out, and you didn't think he was going to kill you.

Though you weren't any of those things, you were an adult who simply admired his beauty, and deemed him as God. Which he was, just not the kind people praised, he never cared anyway.

-

Later tonight, when the moon is shining and the fog is thick. There he is waiting in the dark.

Ready to slaughter whatever God or child opposed him.

He heard the crackling of leaves, but the footsteps were swift and fast.

In the shadows arose a silhouette, he was tilted ready to strike.

But happily you hopped in the shadows unbeknownst a monster behind you. Seeing you made him question himself, did he really get that weak?

He thought you were a God mocking him, A experienced teen trying to get revenge on him. Yet here you were, with the notes in a small basket.

Placing them carefully on your tiptoes. Not trying to be discreet at all. Simply as if you were passing by and throwing mail.

Though it was odd, it was dumb. He was a monster, he's going to kill you.

He thinks?

He didn't move, as if he forgot how to think. He just watched, watched you do the thing he swore to hate. Even going as far to think about reading them tomorrow.

But he had to act he had to feed.

So he stepped out of the woods, though his bodies froze again. To focused on the kill and not hearing the stick he snapped, to busy focusing on their heartbeat.

You turned behind you and caught a glimpse of him.

A gasp left your lips, he came to see you didn't he?

As sweet as you were, you were just as delusional.

"Hello! Did you like my letters?"

Poor oblivious you, he thought. Lamb in a slaughterhouse.

"I tried to draw you but you were to quick last time."

So that's what that stickman drawing was about, nonetheless you were a fool. He imaged himself killing you over and over again. Yet here you were putting the rest of your doddles and letters up.

"Can you talk?"

He could speak, scare her dammit. Is all he repeated, is all he wanted to say. But a word didn't dare to leave his mouthless face.

"I guess its pointless to put these up now huh?"

And with a swift move they tore their papers down, he wanted to scream tell them to leave them be but he couldn't. In front of him was his admirer, devotee, disciple.

His first.

He watched you step towards him in silence, placing the basket at his feet.

"God your tall."

Your sweet coercing chuckle. He mimicked your voice mocking you.

"God your tall."

You gasped, he thought you'd find it scary but you squealed and called it cool, you had no idea how many he's led to their deaths with the same trick.

"You can mimic? Wait can you do like anybody's voice?"

They just kept asking more and more questions, the moon shined on them so intimately. You were talking to him as if tentacles didn't decorate his back and sides.

As if he wasn't a faceless nearly omnipotent being.

As if he was human.

You got comfortable and just started talking, blabbering on and on about every event possible. Yet he stood and took in every word. From how you've become his devotee.

To your parents, why you love the woods and always knew there was something bigger out there.

Even after the conversations were over you didn't leave, he could tell you only wanted to stay because he hadn't left yet, He watched as you yawned, leaned and laid on his leg.

And before you know it you were sleep. He put his tentacle under your head as if a cushion. No doubt it was way softer.

He let it sink in, let you sink in.

Your heartbeat, your breaths, your smell.

Of course he was going to kill you, maybe tomorrow or next week, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself but for now he'll just have to take you home.

[banemaus]

my contribution to jeffjack nation

[vintagewildlife]

Beached false killer whales By: Peter L. Vila From: The Fascinating Secrets of Oceans & Islands 1972