#slivko

[wfhandwatchingtv]

What a reaction from SLJ 😂

[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.

[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:

[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

[beermanoftana]

Might write a Slivko fic…

[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.

[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 😫🔨

[alexgedcom]

Что-то захотелось высказаться и прогуляться . Если это кому то интересно

То читаете смотрите и прочее.

Ведь моя главная ошибка получить внимание но это капканы сознание , которая вызывает зависимость к тем чтобы проверять постоянно видимость и активность ваших лайков комментов

[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.

[hotelbellamuerte0]

Anatoly slivko:

El asesino que grababa a sus víctimas.

Anatoly slivko nació el 28 de diciembre de 1938 en Izberbash, república de Duguestán, perteneciente a la antigua unión soviética, Anatoly tuvo una buena infancia, a pesar del difícil momento por el que pasaba la república. En su niñez no se detectaron alteraciones o anomalías en el comportamiento del pequeño Anatoly, de hecho, era alguien amable, responsable y respetuoso.

Foto de Anatoly

Pero un día, caminando por la calle, pudo ver como un joven de unos quince años, que llevaba puesto el uniforme de "los jóvenes pioneros" (una agrupación juvenil similar a los boy scouts) era atropellado, ese momento para el adolescente Anatoly, muy dejos de ser un trauma, fue algo así como una revelación y el recordar ese accidente se volvió algo recurrente en la mente del joven.

Aún en su juventud, Anatoy empezó a sentir atracción por las personas de su mismo sexo, a pesar de eso, se casó y tuvo dos hijos a los que cuidaba mucho, incluso era descrito como un padre ejemplar.

Con el tiempo Anatoly se convirtió en una especie de celebridad en su comunidad por los documentales sobre la segunda guerra mundial que él se dedicaba a grabar.

También empezó a participar como ayudante en un grupo de exploradores llamado Chergid y poco a poco Antoly se fue ganando la confianza de los jóvenes de la agrupación.

Anatoly, que aún después de tantos años seguía sin poder sacarse de la cabeza la imagen del chico atropellado, al ver que tanto los niños de Chergid, como sus padres le tenían mucha confianza, decide crear un plan. Su idea era: convencer a los jóvenes de la agrupación para que lo ayudaran a grabar uno de sus documentales, les explico que quería recrear un ahorcamiento controlado, una técnica que era usada por los soldados nazis y que después de filmar el proceso los reanimaría.

Antes de cada experimento, Anatoly le daba a cada niño un uniforme nuevo y lustraba sus zapatos, también les pedía que no comieran nada unas cuantas horas antes, para así evitar el vómito, pero, lo que los jóvenes no sabían era que Anatoly aprovechaba su estado de inconsciencia para filmar y fotografiar sus cuerpos en poses sugerentes, después de unos minutos revivía a los niños y les decía que no le contarán nada a nadie sobre lo que había pasado en aquel lugar, los niños aceptaban y reanudaban sus vidas sin saber que había sucedido en realidad.

A lo largo de los años, Anatoly logro convencer a 43 niños para participar en sus "experimentos" y así realizar la misma técnica, dejarlos inconscientes y luego sacarles fotos y filmar videos de sus cuerpos.

Pero un día decidió cambiar un poco su modus operandi, llevo hasta la organización a un vagabundo de solo 15 años para hacerlo parte del club de exploradores y así hacer que participe en su experimento, luego de tener el cuerpo del joven ya inconsciente, lo apuñala en el corazón y procede a desmembrarlo, por último, rocía el cuerpo de gasolina y lo prende fuego, luego destruye todas las filmaciones y fotos de esa víctima, Anatoly no volvió a matar después de eso, o al menos por un tiempo.

En 1973, específicamente el 14 de noviembre, Anatoly nuevamente volvió matar, esta vez fue un joven de unos 15 años llamado Alexander, slivko realizó el mismo método que uso con su primera víctima, esto lo repitió por 22 años con otros 5 niños de los cuales no se conoce su nombre.

Tiempo después de su segundo asesinato, un niño de 11 años desaparece, su madre denunció esto a la policía y dijo que la última vez que lo vio había sido antes de que el pequeño se fuera con Anatoly a grabar una película, pero la policía decidió no investigar a slivko porque él tenía un permiso otorgado por el gobierno para grabar esos vídeos y que, por lo tanto, él no podía ser el culpable. (¿Que se supone que es esa lógica?)

En julio de 1985, desaparece otro de los niños de Chergid, el cual dijo que se iba a la casa de Anatoy, pues él le había dicho que irían a un viaje de exploración. En noviembre de ese mismo año, la fiscal que estaba investigando la desaparición de este último niño decide que es buena idea investigar al club de los exploradores, específicamente al líder del mismo, pues él era la última persona que había visto al joven, si embargo no encontró nada extraño o ilegal en las actividades del grupo, pero si noto que se habían dado otras desapariciones entre los integrantes de este.

Al principio no se tomó en cuenta esto último, pero al interrogar a algunos de los niños de la agrupación descubrieron que de vez en cuando Anatoly llevaba a los niños a un lugar más apartado y hacía "experimentos" con ellos, también descubrieron que muchos de los niños que fueron llevados por Anatoly para los supuestos experimentos tenían amnesia.

Finalmente, después de una ardua investigación, Anatoly es detenido en diciembre de 1985, en su casa, allí se dirigieron las autoridades en busca de pruebas que pudiera comprobar o refutar su culpabilidad y la verdad no tuvieron que buscar mucho para encontrar infinidad de evidencia que lo inculpaba, entre ella había: múltiples videos, fotografías y prendas de vestir que robó a sus víctimas, generalmente zapatos.

Más tarde sería acusado de cargos de asesinato, abuso y necrofilia

En junio de 1986, fue condenado a muerte, durante el tiempo de espera que tuvo para su destino fatal intento de todas las formas que cambiaran su pena, incluso intento ayudar a encontrar a otro asesino en serie que operaba en la zona (Andrei Chikatilo), cosa que no dio resultado.

En diciembre de 1989, Anatoly fue llevado al patio de la cárcel y a la vista de todos los internos, recibió un disparo en la nuca, terminando así con su existencia.

[beermanoftana]

Super obsessed with Kong: Skull Island…AGAIN. I was obsessed when I first watched in in 2017, then again a few years, then again and again, and now I’m even writing fanfiction about it. It’s all Thomas Mann’s fault.

Btw. If anyone is interested in that Reg Slivko fic…

[matthew-s-j]

The series centers on Rodion Meglin (Konstantin Khabensky), a highest level investigator of the Russian police who is also a sanctioned vigilante, hunting down the criminally insane who slip through the cracks of an ill-suited justice system. He’s used to working alone, never revealing the secrets of his method. A young law school graduate, Esenia Steklova (Paulina Andreeva), is assigned to the department of the Investigative Committee where Meglin serves, becoming his trainee.

What I like about this series is that the characters are based on real serial killers. 

For example

Anatoly Slivko (28 December 1938 – 16 September 1989) was a Soviet serial killer and necrophile who sexually assaulted, murdered, and mutilated seven boys in and around Nevinnomyssk, Stavropol Krai, Russian SFSR, between 1964 and 1985. He is also known to have sexually assaulted at least 36 other victims.

Gennady Mikhasevich (7 April 1947 – 25 September 1987) was a prolific Soviet serial killer. He murdered at least 36 women during the period from 1971 to 1985.

Vasiliy Kulik (17 January 1956 – 26 June 1989) was a Soviet serial killer convicted for the killing of 13 people and nearly 30 rapes in Irkutsk between 1984 and 1986.

Kulik was executed by firing squad in 1989.

Anatoly Moskvin (born 1 September 1966) is a Russian former linguist, philologist, and historian who was arrested in 2011 after the mummified bodies of twenty-six girls and women between the ages of 3 and 29 were discovered in his apartment in Nizhny Novgorod. After exhuming the bodies from local cemeteries, Moskvin mummified the bodies himself before dressing and posing them around his home. Moskvin's parents, who shared the apartment with him, knew of the mummies but mistook them for large dolls.

A psychiatric evaluation determined that Moskvin had a form of paranoid schizophrenia. In May 2012, he was sentenced to court-ordered psychiatric evaluation and has since been held in a psychiatric hospital.