#slivko

[wfhandwatchingtv]

What a reaction from SLJ 😂

[shinicalstorytime]

What if I wrote a Reg Slivko fanfic in 2024/2025 when I'm pretty sure everyone has forgotten about Kong: Skull island..

In case anyone would happen to care:

[tmuses]

Slivko groaned, the heat of the sun beating down on him. Setting his rifle down next to him, he shoved a hand into his pocket. His fingers grasped around for his pack of cigarettes, though it was met only with junk. Even before the apocalypse he'd been the kind of person that kept the most pointless shit in his pockets. If anything, it should've been less cluttered, what with the lack or receipts and loose change but it'd only gotten worse. "Man, what the fuck are we even doing out here?" he complained with another heavy sigh. He shifted his body weight to better access his other pocket without standing up. This time he found his pack with ease, and his lighter too. Flipping the lid open and placing his mouth to the pack he grabbed one and lit it. Without saying anything, he offered the pack out to his companion in case they wanted one too. Cigarettes were a hot commodity these days, but he was nothing if not a saint.

[finnofamerica]

MISC Masterlist

Masterlist for the one-off fandoms I have written over the years and probably won't ever write again

Dear Evan Hansen:

Originally posted by hufflepuffhansen

Jared Kleinman -- 

Leaving It Up to You -  Y/n takes matters into her own hands when Jared ghosts her. 💔 Angst 💔 Word Count: 1219

The Order: 

Hamish Duke -- 

Foregoing the Lie - When a couple of upcoming events pose some annoyance for Y/n and Hamish, they pretend to be a couple to avoid those annoyances.  || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 💞Fluff💞 Series Word Count: 6,651

Kong: Skull Island:

Originally posted by citystompers1

Reg Slivko -- 

Thompson -  Y/n and Reg Slivko have a rough history. After suffering from over a year’s worth of PTSD, what happens when they meet again? Will the memories get worse? Or will they finally heal? || Prologue || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 💞 Fluff / Angst 💔

Mean Girls Musical: 

Originally posted by lizziesaltzmcns

Kevin Gnapoor -- 

Valley Fair - School Trip + Mathleete = what? || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || Epilogue || 💞Fluff💞 Series Word Count: 4,417

[utahbastards]

It was a bleak sort of awakening. Even well into mid-morning, a thick fog cloaked the campus, steeping the grounds with a gloomy unease. Cain’s eye snapped open at precisely five a.m., as it had almost every day since he was eighteen only to stare listlessly at the dim, greywashed ceiling. He'd been tethered to this stagnant schedule for the past month. Previously, he had struggled to find enough hours in the day for the things he needed to do; managing such a large group invariably involved friction, and he spent much of his time daily greasing those wheels to ensure everything remained on track. However, since his eye... each morning brought a chorus line of well-meaning voices urging him to rest. “Take it easy. Slow down. Just relax.” Their incessant advice had begun to wear on him, leading him to reluctantly embrace it—rolling over and compelling himself back to sleep for another few restless, disorienting hours, that were supposedly doing him so much good.

He stumbled squinting from Slivko's room, far more fazed by the uncomfortable piercing glare through the windows than by the fact that he had not returned the previous night. It wasn't unusual; only typical of Slivko to finally be interested in getting his dick wet when Cain wouldn't have minded his company. The room had not been Slivko's for long; prior to that, it had belonged to Cain. When he had arrived, battered and bruised, the sergeant had readily offered his own quarters without hesitation. At that time, Cain had spent most evenings drifting off in Shiloh's room, whether slumped at the desk or sprawled on the couch, so relinquishing space he wasn't utilizing felt like no great sacrifice. Today, however, if a genie were to grant him a wish, he would be tempted to travel back to that moment, stifle his own words with a hard fist to the nose, and reclaim a bit of much-needed peace and quiet.

People began to stir in every corner of the faction, but their gazes remained largely averted as they brushed past his stormy presence. He paused as he rounded into the kitchenette where Blair was slouching, uncharacteristically disheveled. Cain had witnessed firsthand that not even an apocalypse could disrupt Blair’s devotion to her hairbrush. Apparently, it seemed all it took was Slivko—who looked entirely at home beside her smudged mascara and messy bun, still clad in the same clothes he had worn the night before, sipping from his mug nonchalantly. She leaned in to whisper something and Cain felt a sharp twist of envy in his chest at the sight of them conspiring. He and Shiloh hadn't spoken in days, and the few words shared before had been glacial.

Cain had never been prone to jealousy, despite his wife's best efforts to provoke it. Monica had once straddled his own brother at Thanksgiving, not long before his car unexpectedly hurtled into traffic. He had merely let out a brief, uncomfortable laugh, wordlessly wishing the pair well before withdrawing back inside to assist his mother with the leftovers. Cain didn't even mention it on the drive home, instead letting the talk radio fill the silence they could not. Now it took only the shade of Shiloh to ignite a seething viper coiling within his mind, threatening to unravel the good sense he typically held. He bit his tongue, uncertain if a snide remark was off his agenda. It wasn’t their fault, he told himself—he had lost her all on his own. He didn't need something to eat this badly; though he would have claimed the same after a month roaming the desert, whatever it took to get them out of his sight. With a contained sigh, he turned to retreat.

"I had a hell of a night with your girl last night, Ransome." It took a moment for the words to register; Slivko’s sing-song tone reverberated in Cain’s mind. A shot fired off in a bulletproof case, looking to penetrate any soft spot it could find. He looked thoroughly self-satisfied, the quintessential cat who had caught the canary, and he swatted the bird between his paws, watching Cain expectantly to join the game.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His response was blunt, uninterested in playing. Cain paused in the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, acutely aware that every second he lingered was a victory for Slivko, ever proud of his efforts to provoke him at every opportunity.

"Shiloh!" Slivko exclaimed, a plume of yellow feathers all but falling from his smug lips. Cain slammed the door with a decisive thud, reentering the room with an unimpressed scowl. "Last night. Loads of fun!"

"What the fuck are you—" Cain halted abruptly, refusing to indulge him further. His gaze dropped to the blonde who developed a sudden interest in her feet. His eye narrowed in confusion, bearing down as he tried to will her focus back to him. "What the fuck is he talking about?"

Blair exhibited a behavior that Cain had never witnessed from her before under pressure: she remained silent. Even when he sharply demanded that she meet his gaze, she looked up at him through wet lashes, offering no response. Frustrated, Cain stepped forward, spared from the weight of the implication by Slivko’s bemused interruption.

"Jesus, relax a little, yeah? You're as dramatic as your girlfriend" Blair abruptly shifted her wide-eyed gaze from Cain, shaking her head in desperation at Slivko, who persisted despite her quiet protest. "She’s at medical; everything is fine." He elongated the last word as if Cain was an idiot incapable of grasping the point he was attempting to make with such deliberate coyness.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Cain finally erupted, fury radiating from every pore.

"She tried to... Well, you know..." Slivko’s attempt at pantomime was far from charming; he pretended to swallow pills by the handful before letting his expression fall into an unflattering distortion of death, his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth for dramatic effect.

He turned back to Blair's stricken face. "He wasn't supposed to say anything; I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Cain began, the rage bubbling from his core, crackling through every nerve ending like disorienting static. Shiloh was hurt. His mind attempted to reconcile the information, only for it to spit back out like a faulty register; rejected. Shiloh had killed herself. He tried to awkwardly ham fist Slivko's words deep enough to stick and take. No- Tried to. Shiloh tried to kill herself. He locked the thought in place, following the trail. She was at medical. Everything around him faded into a loud hum, and all he could focus on was an overwhelming urge to break something. "Who the hell are you to decide what I need to know, Blair? Huh?"

"Quinn said-" She managed in a small voice.

"Oh Quinn said!" He barked back incredulously. "Her sister who has done nothing but make her life harder? The one who had a year on her own to finally grow up and still showed up to try and fuck her sister's boyfriend, that Quinn right?" Cain was shaking, his voice rising increasingly with each word. Blair mirrored his trembles, wrapping her arms around herself as her head sank lower and lower until she could no longer meet his gaze. The sight was pitiful; normally, it would have silenced Cain in an instant. He hated seeing women cry, even more so if he caused it. Yet, nothing seemed capable of dousing his burning anger. "Are you stupid, Blair? Is that it? Are you so fucking senseless that you would leave her with Quinn of all people?" He began to badger, a rapid-fire of sharp angry words. "Are you serious? No, answer me! Genuinely, are you such an idiot you think Quinn has anyone's interests in mind but her own when she told you to keep this from me? Her own fun little gotcha." He could envision it clearly: Shiloh waking up, wondering if he really cared so little that he wouldn't even show his face. His bitterness surged anew. "Why are you even here?" he seethed. Blair recoiled further as if she could shrink herself enough to disappear entirely. Perhaps she was naive enough to believe Quinn’s narrative, but leaving Shiloh alone? What if something happened? What if she attempted it again? "What kind of friend are you? She helps you bury your brother and you what? Come home for a nap when she needs you most?"

Shiloh is in medical, he tried to remind himself. She is hurt— She hurt herself, and she needs you. The thought struggled to take hold, unable to penetrate the hazy images of her that flooded his mind. Did she call out for him, wondering where he was? Did she question why he hadn’t come? If he'd known he'd have come running, she had to know that right? It wouldn't have mattered if he were on another continent; he would have swum to reach her if necessary. He would have done anything to stop this, she had to know. But, how was he supposed to protect her if he couldn't even stop her from hurting herself?

Slivko interrupted his thoughts with an eye roll, redirecting Cain's intense glare from Blair back onto himself. "𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜! She's going to be fine— everything is fine. Just lock away the knives and move on with your day—"

"Say another word," Cain ordered, his tone suddenly steady and unwavering. He took a bold step toward Slivko, who responded by stepping past Blair to confront him directly, still smiling despite having the hackled sergeant squarely in his face.

"Alright, you got me. It wasn't that fun; kind of dull, actually—" The words became scrambled in his throat as Cain seized the front of his shirt, yanking him forward with a sudden, harsh pull. For months, Slivko had tested Cain's endless patience, and for just as long, Cain had responded with a good-natured, rueful grin. But now, Slivko's hands shot up against Cain's chest, attempting to create some distance between them, the gravity of the moment crashing down on him all at once. Cain's patience had reached its limit, along with his good nature. "Okay, Ransome—"

Cain released his grip all at once, causing Slivko to stumble slightly as he suddenly encountered no resistance. On a better day, this might have signified that Cain had seen reason and restrained himself before something truly regretful transpired. However, he released Slivko solely to free his dominant hand, which he then hurled at his nose with blinding speed.

It didn't end with a single strike; Slivko's hands darted up to shield his face from the barrage of blows. A sharp sound pierced the air, painful to his ears, yet no part of him recognized it as Blair's hysterics. Neither paid any mind to the blood streaming from Slivko's nose, splattering both their shirts in a grotesque spray. He redirected his aim to the man's stomach, feeling Slivko's weight collapse against him with a sharp impact to his abdomen. Cain felt the man's hands against his chest; the push was less an attempt to move Cain than a means for Slivko to create some distance and position himself beyond his reach.

"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please—" Blair begged through pained sobs, frantically moving around the two of them as Cain slammed his hand down again, increasingly unsure if he was truly looking at Warren beneath all that mess.

He pulled his fist back once more, poised to bring it crashing down when it unexpectedly became ensnared. That sharp, awful noise was back. He was oblivious to the pointed finger nails Blair had gouged into the skin of his arm as she struggled to hold him. Cain yanked his arm free, forcefully casting the obstruction aside. Blair struck the ground with an awful thump that registered somewhere inside of Cain.

Not enough to stop, but sufficient to induce a split-second pause. He threw an uncertain punch, followed by another for good measure, before finally stalling. Feeling to his hand regretfully returned, his skin broken wide from the bones in Slivko's face stung as an angry reminder of his break. Taking a shaky breath, he refrained from glancing over his shoulder at Blair. He was filled with fury, deeply embarrassed, and sick with worry—his mind a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as it struggled to emphasize the real issue: Shiloh is in medical. She's hurt.

Cain used the edge of the counter to pull himself to his feet, his knees still too unsteady to fully trust. His breaths came in labored shakes; part of him was exhausted, while another part desperately yearned to keep throwing punches to regain some semblance of control. It felt as if all that stood between him, a healthy Shiloh, and the restoration of his eye was Slivko's battered face. The man let out a wet cough, rolling to his side with a soft groan.

"I should've fucked her," He managed. "If I was going to get my ass beat anyways, I should have—" Cain cut the thought short with a hefty kick that landed just below Slivko's ribs with a satisfying thud. Blair yelped involuntarily from behind him, and at last, her cries registered enough for him to step back, resisting the urge to strike again. Slivko raised his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender, compelling Cain to avert his glare before he lost his resolve. He wasn't an animal. He knew how to stop.

Shiloh was in medical. He had to go to medical. He focused on those two thoughts, attempting to keep them as straight as an arrow, especially as he turned. Blair looked up at him with a mix of terror and disappointment, her eyes hypervigilant as she assessed what she might do if he turned on her. He shook his head, instinctively denying the narrative unfolding in her mind. He stood like the boogeyman at the foot of her bed, an amalgamation of the violent men she'd come to know. She was between him and the door, still crumpled on the floor. Her gaze flicked nervously from Slivko to him and back, filled with apprehension. He considered offering her a hand up, an immediate apology and retraction attempt—he hadn’t meant it nor would he ever mean to hurt her— but nothing stirred between them. His tongue was unwilling to move, and her ears were reluctant to listen. They locked eyes for another long moment before he shamefully shifted his gaze downward.

She waited until he had completely passed her before scrambling over to Slivko, her nervous hands desperate to assist as she crouched beside him. Blair's eyes flickered anxiously to the door and back, worried that Cain might change his mind and return, but he closed it behind him with a muted thud, leaving them with the mess he'd made. The eyes that had avoided him earlier now pierced him like a hundred daggers as he realized how many onlookers their commotion had attracted. Cain ignored their meaningful, silent exchanges and the way their stares stung, resolute in his determination to reach medical before anyone could jeopardize that goal.

[vesna-v-irkutske]

you interested in any other true crime cases for example sandy hook or are you just hyperfixated on this one

In January, tcc posts started popping up on my feed. I was like, "You all are so weird..." and literally a couple of days later, my brain betrayed me and forced me to come back to this freaking community after 4 full years. AND I BLAME ADAM. Too interesting to stay away from. 🤬🤬🤬

Then that hyperfixation gradually transitioned to the current one. That toxic Russian yaoi with 2 greasy loser boys was too good, I guess...

I like seeing posts about Andrew Blaze, but I haven't read toooo much. I remember watching some video about her, but it's been a while. That's about it for now, I guess. Do Mayhem & Varg Vikernes count? I haven't seen many tcc people talking about it.

★ Who interested me in 2018-2020: Dahmer, Graham Young, Pichushkin, Nilsen, Ramirez, Anatoly Slivko, Sergey Golovkin, Chikatilo.

A couple of dumb half-assed doodles from the end of 2018. Why is he looking like that. Odd bitch. 🧿_🧿

[mara-ma]

My ❗Soviet AU❗Jacob Alden (lurkingforlove)

TW mentioning s/a, true crime, real m*niac as a reference

Yakov Oldénov

Basic info (I'm sorry for bad transaction)

I think he liked it too much...

I wrote more about Yakov in my telegram channel and I will be short here. For the reference I took Slivko's story (take a look on his cr*mes). But tbh I only took str^ngulation and filming part of his story bc thought it would match Jacob's character.

I also have an idea for Strade (btd) in Soviet au but idk when I'll be able to draw something with him:/ I really like to draw Jacob 😫🔨

[lulubelle814]

The Traveler - Chapter 9

Chapter 10

The Traveler Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The ship arrived back at port about a few days later where Conrad was promptly escorted to the Monarch facility.  While he handed over the camera, he kept Billie’s writing journal for himself, wanting to keep some part of her with him.  He read through some of what she’d written and also noticed where she scratched things out, trying to change the story.  Billie told him she’d tried, and now he could see the proof of her claim.

Brooks found there was still film in the camera along with 2 other rolls that had been used.  He assumed there would be more, but they could only develop what they could find and it would take a few days to do so.

Conrad had been interrogated time and time again along with ‘required’ medical testing including blood tests and a psychiatric evaluation.  

They asked him questions like:

“Are you on any medications?”

“Did you hit your head at any point?”

“What did you see?”

“Why did you agree to go on this mission with such little information?”

“Have you ever been evaluated by a medical professional before?”

It went on and on and on, virtually trapped in a steel box for 12 - 14 hours a day, the only interaction coming from whomever was interrogating him.  He counted 436 tiles on the ceiling and 231 scratches on the table at least 4 separate times just to have something else to do when stuck in that god forsaken room.  It didn’t take long at all for Conrad to figure out they were asking the same set of questions in more than a dozen different ways.  

In his mind, it was like a broken radio replaying bits of ‘Wild Horses’ while thinking of her, Billie.  

Graceless lady you know who I am

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

The past few days had been chaotic, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering where she disappeared to, was she okay, and would he ever get to see her again. 

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses we'll ride them some day

It was on the third day of questioning that he decided to see if he could find at least some trace of her out in the world. The questions continued, but now he was tuning them out, rather focusing on Billie and how he might locate her.  It wasn’t until she disappeared from his arms when the helicopter went through the fog that he realized how much he not just wanted her but needed her.

On day 7, he decided he’d had enough, slamming his fists on the table as he stood up.  “Enough!  You’ve been going on and on.  I’m not going to have any different answers or insights for you.  So let me go or lock me up because I’m done with this.”  

At the end of it, he was made to sign the official secrets act due to this entire fiasco and its findings.  Brooks found him as he was released from interrogation and stalked through the corridors.  “I think you’ll want to see this.”  

Brooks showed him some of the pictures that were developed.  Most of them were pictures of the Conrad, the soldiers, the Iwis, or even the scenery.  

“No one can seem to find her anywhere.  It’s like she never existed, but we know she did.  I know we didn’t have some sort of mass hallucination that caused us to all see the same person.”  Brooks showed him the pictures where she posed with the Iwis or when Slivko swiped the camera and took a picture of her and Conrad.  “So either she’s real, or we all had a mass hallucination.  Considering what we went through, I'm almost inclined to believe the latter, but the pictures say otherwise.”  There were even 2 or 3 pictures at the very beginning that made absolutely no sense: a cafe table with a dessert on it, a picture of a storefront, and one of cars driving down the street.  “I can’t make heads or tales of those.  Especially those cars?  They’re unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”  

Conrad shuffled through the pictures, looking at them.  In one of the out of place ones, there was a picture of a strange shop, the sign reading Hank’s Antiques and Oddities.

That was when he spotted some pictures of the pictographs, images he hadn’t seen before.  He couldn’t figure out what any of it meant, but he knew the one person who would.

Without asking, he kept the picture of the two of them, wanting some sort of visual keepsake as well as a few others, knowing Brooks could always use the negatives to print more.  “I’m going to find her, Brooks.  I promise you that.  But first, I need you to get me an address.”

Since Monarch was the one who helped Hank get home, it wasn't difficult to obtain his address.  They were reluctant to let Conrad go even though they had nothing left to hold him there; however, they knew he'd be useful on future missions locating and handling kaijus.  Monarch did, however, manage to keep him on base for an additional 2 weeks to do thorough testing including both medical and physical endurance tests, much to his chagrin.

Thanks to Brooks, Conrad's trip to see Hank was covered by the company under the guise of collecting more information and confirming that he was settling back into the real world alright.  Conrad was warned it would be a long trip and travel out of the secret location was limited, and he realized they weren’t kidding. It took 3 flights and 2 buses, using the time to study the pictures he obtained from Brooks, more specifically the ones from ‘before’ she arrived on the ship.  Finally, he found himself at Hank's door with nothing more than his rucksack and the pictures he'd swiped.  Knocking on the door, it was Hank's son, Steve, who answered.

"Can I help you?"  It was not surprising that Steve was skeptical of strangers at the door, especially since his MIA father returned a few days before.  The gentleman at the door looked almost exactly like his father.  "I'm...uh....I'm looking for Hank Marlow?"

Before Steve could say anything, Hank appeared behind his son.  "Thanks kid.  I've got it from here."  Once his (grown) kid left, Hank turned back to Conrad, smiling.  "I knew you'd show up sooner or later."

This was not how Conrad thought this conversation would start.  He figured he'd have to explain why he was there and hope he didn't sound completely insane.  "How’d you know?"

Hank motioned for him to come inside, closing the door behind his expected guest.  He offered Conrad a beer which he accepted with thanks.  “No offense, but you look like crap man.”

James scoffed.  “I feel like crap.  Monarch held me at their facility for over 2 weeks before they agreed to let me leave.  I have no idea why they let you go sooner than me.”

Hank shrugged.  “Don’t know what to tell you.  I think I spent 2 solid days just telling them stuff and then another 5 days getting poked like a pin cushion.”  He sighed.  “Before we get into it, how about you go take a shower? I don’t mean to be unkind, but you smell like shit.”  Conrad couldn’t help but laugh.  “Good idea.  Just point the way.”

After a nice hot shower and a change of clothes, he felt much better.  When going back to the front room, Hank’s wife had just finished making dinner and had set an extra place for him.  “Thank you so much for your kind hospitality.”

After dinner, Conrad took out the pictures he’d obtained from Brooks and showed them to Hank who looked through them carefully.  When he got to the one with the pictographs, James placed a finger on it.  “This isn’t one of the sections you showed us, but I was hoping you might be able to interpret it for me.  I can tell a couple of the words are the same or similar from the one you told us about how the traveler and their destiny to save each other.” He points to the pictorial of the traveler in the picture.  “What does this one mean?”

Hank took a few minutes to look at it.  “I know I’m not going to explain this right, but it basically says the traveler will be stolen back to their home and away from their destiny, and only their destiny can find them.”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

Hank’s head popped up, staring wide-eyed at Conrad.  “So you finally believe, eh?”

All Conrad could do in return is groan.  “Yes, okay.  Are you happy?  I can’t stop thinking about her.  When we went through that fog and she disappeared, it’s like she took a part of me with her.  All I can think about is getting her back.”

“Well, it’s about time.”  Hank got up and went to the entry closet, pulling out a small, wrinkled, brown bag, handing it to him.  “They gave me this before we left on the ploat, saying I’d know what to do when the time came, and here it is.”

Conrad opened the bag to find the same talisman he saw in Billie’s possession when he first ran into her on the ship.  “But…..how?”

Hank brushed his beard with his hand.  “The one she got originated from her reality.  This talisman is from our reality.  They can only be used by very specific special people like you and Billie, and each one is only good for one round trip from what I understand.  So if you really want to get her back, that’s your ticket.”

“Let's say this does get me to her reality.  How am I supposed to find her?  I don’t even know where this will take me.”

“It should take you at least close enough, like hers did with getting her here.  After that, that’s up to you, man.”  He placed a hand on top of Conrad’s, forcing the talisman back onto the table.  “If you’re going to this, I strongly suggest you get some sleep first.  You’ll need your energy to track her down once you start, and I don’t know if the currency we use will work in her world.  I’ll have my wife pack you some food just in case and get your clothes washed tonight just in case.”

He couldn’t help but feel grateful to his friend.  “Thank you, so much.”  He thought for a moment.  “Let's suppose this does work.  Getting back here, would we end up wherever I started here from?”

“I can only assume.  So let's have you use the talisman in the guest room.  That way, you’ll have privacy when you leave and a familiar place to come back to.  I’ll make sure the room is left undisturbed while you’re gone, too.”  With that, Hank stood up and showed Conrad to the guest room at the back of the house.  Conrad handed over his clothes after Hank insisted, just wanting to look out for his friend.

In the morning, Conrad’s clothes were washed, dried, and folded, ready to go back in his rucksack along with sandwiches and some snacks.  “Like I said, I don’t know what you’ll find over there, but be careful.”  

Conrad double checked his pockets, making sure he still had the pictures he’d brought, especially those taken before Billie’s trip to him as he’d obtained at least a few clues, his tracker skills having come in very handy.  He pulled the talisman out of the bag, looking at Hank.  So, how does this….”  Before he could finish, everything around him disappeared.  Seconds later, he was in an alley by a coffee shop. “Work….”  

He looked around.  “Well, I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.”  Looking up at the sky, it was a nice, sunny afternoon, but storm clouds quickly began to gather.

Pulling out Billie’s pre-travel photos, one of them showed this very cafe in the background, realizing the talisman likely took him to the exact spot where Billie traveled from and likely back to.  Thankfully having kept the pictures in print order, he followed them to recreate the timeline to the earliest picture showing a sign reading Hank’s Antiques and Oddities.  He looked around, trying not to stray far and quickly found the shop was nearby, making his way over there as the rain started pouring.  

When he entered the store, there was no one to be found.  After a moment, someone shouted from the backroom that they’d be right out.  The man who appeared had an eerie similarity to Hank.  Conrad was very confused.  “Hank?”

The guy shook his head.  “Nah.  Hank’s my dad.  I’m Steve.”  The gentleman held his hand out and shook Conrad’s hand.  “Dad passed a few years back. I took over his shop.”  He couldn’t help but stare at Conrad for a minute.  “You look familiar.”

Conrad was confused.  “How so?”  Steve held up a finger, silently telling him to hold on a minute while he ran to the backroom again, coming back out a couple of minutes later with a picture of his dad and a guy who looked eerily similar to Conrad and showed it to him.  “My dad told me about this guy who looked a lot like you.  Ran into him during his travels in Vietnam at a bar.  This guy,“ he pointed to Conrad’s lookalike, ”was a tracker that was hired to help find some missing soldiers.  Said his name was James Conrad.  Before my dad finally left Vietnam a couple of weeks later, he’d gotten word that this Conrad guy died.  The Lt. Colonel he was helping just snapped, claiming Conrad and a couple of his own men were working against him.  So he killed them.  And you look an awful lot like this guy that died.”

Conrad couldn’t dispute the picture.  That was him next to Hank, but that wasn’t actually him.  Apparently this reality had its own version of Conrad and Hank, and it sounds like this reality’s Conrad wasn’t so lucky when ending up in a very similar situation.

Without thinking, Conrad held up the talisman that brought him to this reality, and Steve recognized it immediately.  

“That’s exactly like the one I gave Billie before she disappeared for a few days.”  Conrad then showed him the pictures he had of him and Billie on Skull Island.  “Holy shit, she wasn’t lying.”  Rain continued to pelt the windows as Steve went through the pictures he’d been handed.

Steve pointed at the last picture.  “That’s the crazy Lt. Colonel who killed the tracker guy.  The dude was put on trial and died in a mental institution.”

“Please tell me you know where I can find Billie.”  Steve could hear the pains in the man’s voice, the desperate need to find her.

“Yeah, of course I do.”  He grabbed his keys and flipped the sign on the door to closed before leading Conrad out to his truck.  “Get in.  I’ll take you to her place.”  Conrad chucked his rucksack in the back of the truck before climbing into the passenger seat, not caring that it was quickly getting soaked from the rain.

It was only a few minutes later that they pulled up to an old house with a detached garage.  It didn’t look like anyone was home, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there.  He could see a car in the garage that looked like it was being restored, a 1970 Dodge Charger R/T.  This had to be her work.  He could tell.  She was meticulous.  

Before Conrad climbed out of the truck, Steve stopped him for a second.  “I’ll wait here in case she’s not home.”  Conrad nodded, getting out of the truck, grabbing his bag,  and made his way up the porch of the house before knocking on the door.  It was a couple of minutes before someone finally answered, just as there was a huge clap of thunder.

Taglist: @vbecker10 @eleniblue @msdjsg7 @lovingchoices14 @buttercupcookies-blog @mischief-dream @msdjsg7

Taglist is open!

[gorillageek27]

Scenes from the MonsterVerse novelizations I would have loved to see in the movies:

Godzilla 2014: Ford reuniting with Sam, Serizawa's conversation with Stenz regarding using nuclear weapons against Godzilla and the MUTOs, and Serizawa telling Ford Joe would have been proud.

Kong: Skull Island: Conrad's encounter with the Vine Snake and Nieves acting like a spoiled child demanding leadership of Group A (Conrad, Mason, San, Houston, and Slivko)

KOTM: The awakenings of Behemoth, Na Kika, and Mokele-Mbembe

Godzilla vs. Kong: Ilene telling Nathan to activate the HEAV's engines and Nathan talking to Maia.

Godzilla x Kong: Bernie doing his documentary in Malenka after his conversation with Trapper only to realize Trapper was right.

Nice

[monarch-afterdark]

Superspecies History: Leafwing

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, we once again return to our coverage of Skull Island with a profile on the winged menace of Skull Island's skies; the Leafwings.

(Pictured above: Close-up shot of a Skull Island Leafwing, taken from the lens of a sniper weapon, circa. 1973)

Monarch Database File: Leafwing

Monarch Designation: Icarus folium

Height: Unknown

Wingspan: 3-5 feet

Species Designation: Reptilia-Aves hybrid, Florafauna

-----

A common sight within the skies of both Skull Island and the Hollow Earth, the Leafwings are relatively small compared to much of the other terrors known to Monarch. Vaguely pterosaur-like, Leafwings are equippied with a cacti-like proboscis on their snout, used for slicing up prey into smaller chunks for easier consumption.

Their wings, which can take on different leaf-like shapes across the species, are highly sought after by the Iwi, who grind the wings from hunted Leafwings into a powder believed to have unique properties.

Distantly related to another aerial Skull Island species, the Psychovulture (Vultura insanus), the Leafwings are comparitively less dangerous, but are still a creature to be treated with caution. Flocks of Leafwings can work together to lift prey larger than themselves into the air before dismembering them with their sawlike proboscis.

(Pictured above: A flock of Leafwings within the Kong Containment Dome on Skull Island, circa. 2024)

Say it with us now, our data on the fauna of Skull Island dates back to 1973 during the joint Monarch-Landsat expedition. Following Kong's initial attack on the helicopter escort, both parties had their own separate encounters with the Leafwings. Packard's group encountered them during a trek through a swampy area, with Packard himself using his gun to get a close-up look at one of them. After killing it with a headshot, the flock scattered from the tree they were resting on and flew off.

The second group, led by James Conrad, were attacked by the Leafwings moments after re-establishing contact with Packard aboard Hank Marlow's homemade boat. A pair grabbed Victor Nieves, a Landsat employee, carrying him off into the air and tearing him apart as the others were helpless to watch.

Leafwings later attacked the group during their skirmish with a juvenile Skullcrawler, after the latter creature tail-whipped a flamethrower-wielding soldier into an ape skull, triggering a gas explosion that disturbed nearby Leafwings. Conrad fought his way through them with a sword as he reached another solider, Slivko, to help him escape.

(Pictured above: A flock of Leafwings being observed fleeing from a tree they were roosting on, circa. 1973)

Since 1973, there haven't been any major incidents involving the Leafwings, though they would continue to be a regular presence for those visiting Skull Island. They were spotted in 1995 by Aaron Brooks' unauthorised team before a flock of Psychovultures attacked their Osprey, and were among the species kept in the Kong Containment Dome by 2024.

Notably, in 2019, a small flock of Leafwings had left Skull Island during the Monster Zero crisis and made their way to Boston, flying off in the distance whilst Godzilla was surrounded by the other converging Titans.

In 2024, the joint Monarch-Apex expedition to the Hollow Earth yielded the discovery of a red-skinned variety of Leafwings, which flew overhead when their HEAVs and Kong first landed in Hollow Earth.

By 2027, Skull Island Leafwings were among the collection of taxidermied creatures kept by Raymond Martin.

(Pictured above: Faintly to the left, a flock of Leafwings flying through the ruins of Boston, unnoticed by Godzilla, circa. 2019)

-----

And that's all she wrote on the Leafwings! While perhaps somewhat unremarkably compared to other creatures that rest within Skull Island and the Hollow Earth, the Leafwings should not be forgotten in any regard. They are still rather beautiful creatures, though be wary when admiring them as they can still prove deadly...

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

[sserpente]

Hello There, 🌻

Do you still write for Kong Skull Island? Especially for Slivko?

Heyho love! I do but only for James Conrad! 🥰

[phantomraeken]

five comfort characters. five tags.

Tagged by @th30ra3k3n

1. Reg Slivko

2. Sam Wilson

3. Brett Talbot

4. Billy Loomis

5. Glenn Rhee

Tagging : @de-constructmybones @luckyvd @outcastpack @thiamsxbitch @reversebe4rtrap BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON JAY ISN'T SHOWING UP FOR ME? So you're getting bullied <33 - Liam.

[azhdakha]

I have watched some shows about Chikatilo and Slivko, maniacs from ussr. They both grew up under the nazu occupation during ww2. Now I'm thinking about how much damage is done during the war other than obvious damage. How many children that live through russian occupation now in Ukraine had their mental health destroyed.

[godzillajuniorreborn]

Similarities I found between Kong: Skull Island and Princess Mononoke

The role of the Shishigami is split between Kong (he is the top dog of Skull Island much like the Shishigami is the top dog of the Cedar Forest and their downfalls spark a domino effect [when the Shishigami loses his head, he turns into the Nightwalker and starts draining the life force from the Forest and all in it die while when Kong is incapacitated, the Skull Devil wakes up and goes on a rampage] and the Sker Buffalo (overall appearance) . Both the Shishigami and Kong share a similar role (the Shishigami maintains the balance of life and death in the Cedar Forest while Kong maintains the balance of Skull Island by protecting it from outside forces, specifically the Skullcrawlers).

Packard has very similar motives with Eboshi and, like her, pays for his short-sighted ignorance (though Eboshi only loses her arm, Kong outright crushes Packard).

Both Packard and Eboshi have a right-hand man (Gonza for Eboshi and Chapman for Packard).

The Iwi tribe has a village set-up similar to Iron Town crossed with the Emishi village.

The scene where Marlow, Conrad, Mason, San, Houston, Nieves, and Slivko leave is VERY similar to Ashitaka getting banished from his village right down to the music being very similar.

The Skullcrawlers act like the Tatarigami in that they are one-track minded beasts who attack anyone or anything they lock eyes on.

Both have a shady man with ulterior motives and uses other people to accomplish their goals, even if those people die in the process (Jigo wants the head of the Forest Spirit to make amends with the Emperor while Bill Randa wants to explore Skull Island to keep Monarch afloat).

Both movies have a character named San (or San Lin in the case of Kong: Skull Island).

Gunpei Ikari's katana sports similar looking decorative patterns as San's spear. The way they are pulled out also features the same angle.

[sickly-cervidae]

INTRODUCTION

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ I'm a deer in real life 𐂂

ᯓ★ About Me

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

I go by many names, like James, Cervidae, Sue, or Lee. I go by all pronouns but prefer he / it. Lutheran Christian.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

I am a therian, furry, and whatever other cringe thing you can imagine. I collect taxidermy and I love vintage things.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

My main character is Sue. I'm in the process of putting together his story. Expect me to post many drawings of him and some masks or other art I make.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

We are a medically recognized system with a headcount of 35+.

ᯓ★ My Interests

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Bambi. Deer. War movies (such as Die Brücke, Land of Mine, and Come and See to name a few). World History (especially WW2 and the Cold War). Taxidermy. Vintage things. True Crime (Anatoly Slivko, Pekka-Eric Auvinen, ect.) Kliene Brüder films / shows. Rammstein. Johnny Cash. Martin & Lewis. Phineas Gage.

ᯓ★ Boundries

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

DNI || Homophobes. Transphobes. TERFS. Trump supporters. Darkship. Proship. Comship. Anti recovery paraphilliacs. SH / ED accounts. True crime condoners.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You are allowed to ask me for my other social medias (although they are likely easy to find by yourself.) I would love to get to know new people, so feel free to DM me anytime!

God Bless.