Sabretooth - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

1945 Wolverine Vol III

Logan looks 23/24.

Inspired by this scene from The Wolverine movie.

World War II is nearing it's end. The Marine unit of Victor Creed and Logan has been sent to the invasion of Okinawa. The mood amongst the men in the transport is low, but they are trying to banter and make light.

Logan is surly, not wanting to join in. He is a soldier because he is good at it, not because he enjoys it. He is there to do a job.

Victor is the complete opposite. He seems to be having the time of his life. He laughs raucously at the jokes and chastises Logan for his attitude. He says this is a once in a lifetime opportunity (for some of you) to win a war, beat the enemy…to death. The others, save Logan, cheer at this.

Victor sits with Logan…

V: You should be happy, this is a good life. We do a job we're good at, we make our living from it…you should at least try to enjoy it.

L: You enjoy it too much.

V: Why shouldn't I? I've lost count of my enemy kills, but I know it's higher than yours.

L: Don't you ever get tired of killing?

V: What else are you gonna do? Watercolors? Wildlife photography? 

L: …

V: We're made for killing. You certainly aren't much good for anything else.

L: …When we were in Spain-

V: Are you still pissed off about that? Logan that was nearly a decade ago.

L: Those men were-

V: We are not men. We're not like them. You end up caring for them and then get upset when they...

L: Victor-

V: Stop trying to protect them.

The other conversations have died down and the brothers realise they are being listened to.

L: You're damn right I care. What about these men we serve with. Are they not our brothers too? Would you kill them Victor?

V (grinning): In a heartbeat.

Silence.

One of the marines asks Victor if he's joking. Victor lets out a hearty laugh and the others, save Logan, join in.

Logan knows he means it.

Then we cut to a fighting, moving, sweeping across the Island, capturing an airbase and Logan and Victor's differing-responses-to-the-violence montage. Logan tries hard not to react with sadness when members of their unit are killed. He responds with anger instead.

Then we see the remaining marines pinned down under heavy fire. Victor and Logan become separated from the rest of the unit and try to make ground themselves rather than get shot where they lie.

They come across a pillbox embrasure. They both take some hits. They storm the pill box, get inside and kill the soldiers. Logan is efficient, Victor slaughters them with glee.

Logan starts to admonish him when the pillbox is destroyed by an American shell.

Cut to black.

Logan comes to, heavily restrained in a basic treatment room. There are scratch marks, lacerations and deep gouges on the walls. Also a certain amount of blood.

A young Japanese guard sits, skittish, by the door. Recovering his wits a little, he strains against his bonds.

The guard jumps up and tries to grab his rifle. Snikt! The claws come out. The guard runs out.

Logan can't break the restraints nor angle the claws to cut them. He accidentally cuts himself in the struggle. The pain snaps him out of his instinctive reverie. He retracts the claws. The wound starts to heal.

There is shouting, in Japanese, outside the room.

The officer in charge of the camp, wearing his arm in a sling, enters. He sees that Logan is relatively calm. He sees Logan's fresh leg wound healing up. He remarks that Logan has some unusual gifts. That he survived a direct hit from an American shell. His body was still healing when they brought him in.

He introduces himself in his best English. His name is Ichirō Yashida. He says that he knows his men sometimes talk behind his back, they say he is too lenient. He says they are all men and should be afforded some respect, even in captivity.

He says that Logan is not a man, he is something else. They have had to treat him differently.

Logan asks if he caused Ichirō's injury. He did. He apologises. He says sometimes he is not in control of what he is doing. Instinct takes over.

He asks if anyone else was brought in with him.

Ichirō says there was another. The same gifts as Logan. When he woke he killed three men, injured more, and escaped. They believe he is long gone as there is no sign of him.

Logan says they are both very good at hiding and covering their tracks. He may still be here.

They have a few conversations, Ichirō is trying to get an understanding of the threat level.

I: What is your role in the military?

L: I have been an engineer, saboteur, sapper, sniper, assassin…you name it, I've been it. I started by following men to their deaths, now I lead them to theirs, only I can't die.

L: Killing…it's what I do best.

I: Is that a threat?

L: No. Just a fact…It's the only life I know.

I: Are you here to kill anyone? 

L: No. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I: Are there more like you, in your unit?

L: I only met one other like me, and you said he's long gone.

Gradually they come to an understanding and Logan is released from his bonds and into the camp.

He starts to get to know the guards and other prisoners. He tries to take on more than his share to save the others from hard labour. The guards don't argue because they are scared of him.

Against his better judgement he begins to like the other POWs. He starts to develop a mutual respect with the guards and staff, especially Ichirō.

Then it starts. Late one night a guard is brutally killed, as if by a beast.

They think Logan did it.

Despite his protestations they lock him up in the recovery room like before.

It happens again, two guards this time.

They put him in solitary, down in a solitary underground cell.

It happens again, a POW spots the culprit and is killed too.

The guard in the tower sees it is not Logan and tells Yashida.

Logan knows exactly what is happening and pleads to be let out to face him. Victor is looking for Logan and won't stop until he finds him.

He comes again so they relent and release him. It obviously is Victor and he wants to take out the whole camp. The Japanese who run the camp and any witnesses. Logan is already angry at Vic for his brutality but he cannot countenance any further killing when they could just escape. Victor won't take no for an answer.

They fight having not done so seriously for decades. And when they did Victor would always win.

The fight is epic, brutal and bloody. Vic has the upper hand but is exhausted and totally focused on Wolverine. Ichirō uses this distraction to put a bullet in Vic's head.

Logan says Vic will recover, they have to put him in solitary.

The guards and the POWs are terrified of them both and put them in separate underground cells (I'm pretty sure they only have one in the film but we're having two for narrative purposes).

Then the atom bomb warning comes. The camp is evacuated as per the film.

Yashida hesitates momentarily but then frees Logan. He isn't sure about freeing Vic.

Logan steps forward and cuts the chains. Vic is angry and wants to kill Yashida and get revenge on Logan.

Logan says you want to fight us or you want to try and outrun that bomb?

Vic growls that he won't forget this.

Logan knows.

Vic leaves.

Logan wants to get back in the underground cell. The other officers want Yashida to join them in committing seppuku.

Logan rushes him to the cell and shields him from the blast. He is horribly damaged by the blast but regenerates in front of Yashida. 

They spend some time in the cell together and then come out to survey the damage.

They are both left wondering whether Logan or Victor or mankind are most monstrous. 

Mid or post credits: Essex, now Sinister, En Sabah Nur's envoy, ushers in another sacrifice. Aaaaah!

So... a while ago I made a small post about Blue Eye Samurai, as well as Daken from Marvel. Mostly as a way to talk about how it would be interesting for the son of Wolverine to be adapted to other mediums and get some recognition.

I know that last time I spoke of this, I talked about the idea of Daken's quest for revenge against his father and the idea of him bonding with Laura/X-23. I think with BES being a story about revenge, I think going with Daken bonding with his sister would be the better option. Oh! The adaptation that features them could be an adaptation of Wolverines, the comic where Logan is dead and people like him and/or connected to him are kidnapped and used by... I honestly forget who and for what purpose, it's been a while since I read Wolverines. I do remember it also featured Sabretooth and Mystique

Or maybe one could just go with his quest for revenge, or maybe have it be the story of a young Akihiro growing up, that anger and resentment at his father building and building, eventually him being trained by Romulus as something of a weapon against Logan.

If anybody else has any ideas, it's cool to share them. I wouldn't mind hearing of those ideas.

#whiteQueenwednesday

‘It’s a brave new world darlings. Best get used to it…’

WHAT. AN. ENTRANCE.

From House of X # 3 by Jonathan Hickman and Pepe Larraz

I was going to draw a cat stretch with Sabes but I got lazy

Request Guidelines

Agere Requests are Open!

Romantic Requests are Open! ( character x reader)

I write for-

-X-Men

Agere- Who I write for-

-Wolverine/Logan Howlett

-Deadpool/Wade Wilson

-Colossus/Piotr Rasputin

-Gambit/Remy LaBeau

-Sabretooth/Victor Creed

-Possibly more characters, I’m not new to writing but I’m relatively new to writing Marvel works.

X reader- Who I write for

-Wolverine/Logan Howlett

-Deadpool/Wade Wilson

-Gambit/Remy LaBeau

-Sabretooth/Victor Creed

I Won’t write-

- nsfw

-ddlg or any of its variants

-cgl

-any ‘sfw’ kink works

-major character deaths

Characters I won’t write-

Magneto/Erik Lehnsherr

I try to read oneshots with different characters and use that to gauge wether or not I would feel comfortable writing a fic about them, I’m sorry if I won’t write a character you like.

I Will write-

-Agere

-Character x Reader

-fluff

-hurt/comfort

-Oneshots

-Headcannons

That’s about it for now, I might add more to this later on, reblogs, likes and comments are all appreciated, much love（＾＿＾）☆

Someone reblogged my post about Logan scuffing his age regressor, with a tag about Sabretooth.. should I start doing CG! Sabretooth stuff, I love him, but I honestly didn’t think people would want to see stuff about him, let me know!

I might actually start writing romantic fics for the x-men characters, my request guidelines stay the same, when I’m writing the reader in agere fics the age of the reader is up to you, but with my romantic fics, the reader will be over 18 :) no nsfw, send a request if you would like!

Now I Wanna Make Sabrevine/Wolvertooth fanart. Mmmmm…

Sabretooth, baby.

Alt:

Can’t decide which ship you prefer?

Solution:

Polyamory!

Wade would love being squashed between Vic and Logan in bed, and I will not be hearing otherwise!

Wade would surprisingly be a good cook and would try cooking for Victor and Logan but only Logan would eat it--Victor choosing to hunt his food and eat it over a campfire or something.

Wade gets scary dog privileges. Scary dogs in question: Victor and Logan.

To Wade, Victor is Kitten and Logan is Peanut. To Victor, Logan is Runt and Wade is Little Freak or just Freak. Victor and Wade both are just Bub to Logan.

When Victor or Logan lose it and go feral, Wade does the stupid thing and calls out their names and throws their clothes at them--something he learned from certain fairytales that tell how to turn a werewolf back to normal--and what’s even stupider is that it confuses them and grounds them so much, it works.

Little Victor and Caregiver Logan for the soul <3

CW: Dead animal, swearing

"What the actual fuck."

Logan had been around for a long time. He’d seen a lot, and ‘a lot’ was plenty enough for him. But despite it all, nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Laid out before him on the porch of his cabin was a gutted little fawn. It must have been a fresh kill, evident by the bright red trail of blood tainting the snow as it came out of the forest.

Aside from the overwhelming smell of iron, there was another scent in the air. "Creed," Logan thought. And he’d have thought right, as he stepped outside to look around, finding Victor sat bloody on his porch, just out of view from the doorway.

"It’s not my birthday, bub." Logan began. "So what the hell is this?" He asked, gesturing to the deer. He’d have expected a horrible display like this on his birthday, but today was far from his special day. He needed answers.

Victor only huffed, as he attempted to wipe his mouth, smearing the blood on his face instead. "Gift." He said, making no effort to elaborate.

Logan clenched his jaw, quickly losing patience. "What’s the occasion?" He asked, extending his claws with their signature snikt.

"Birthday," Victor replied.

"Ain’t my birth--"

"Not yours; mine." Victor quickly interrupted with a grunt.

"What?" Logan was taken aback. Victor never seemed to him like he was the type to celebrate his own birthday. The only time he seemed enthusiastic about a birthday was when it was Logan’s. "You’ve gotta be shittin’ me." Logan scoffed. "Gifts go the other way around, you know that, right, bub? So why the hell am I gettin’ the fresh meat?"

"Wasn’t thinkin’." Victor replied, his words slightly slurred.

"Yeah, no shit!" Logan wanted to cut him up and throw him off his property, but he restrained himself. "What the hell’s up with you? You sound like you’re hyperventilating." He retracted his claws after some hesitation and walked over to the other mutant. "God, you look like shit."

Victor growled at the comment. "‘m fine," He spat. Logan could easily tell that Victor wasn’t fine; far from it, in fact, but he couldn’t see any noticeable injuries on him.

Logan sighed, crouching down in front of Victor. "Look at me," he demanded. When Victor didn’t look, Logan grabbed his jaw and forcefully lifted his head. "Look. At. Me." He repeated before letting go. Victor kept his head up and the two stared at each other in silence for some time.

Logan carefully scanned Victor from head to toe, taking in the other’s unusual behavior. Victor kept fiddling with his hands and tugging at his clothes as though he needed to keep his hands busy. He couldn’t seem to sit still.

After a moment of silent thought, Logan spoke. "How old ya turnin’, bub?" He asked with an unusual softness in his tone. He knew what this was; some students at the school had shared their own experiences with it. Logan never thought he’d see the day, but here Victor was, regressed.

"Doesn’t matter." Victor retorted, hugging his knees close to his chest.

"Matters to me." Logan said warmly as he sat down in front of the other. "Gotta know what number candles to put on your cake." He hesitantly looked over at the dead fawn. "Or, uh, your deer." He added, looking back at Victor.

Victor glanced over at the animal and then back at Logan. "Ten." He reluctantly replied, sounding not entirely sure of himself.

"‘Bout ten, then." Logan repeatedly the number given, letting it roll off his tongue as though he were testing the quality. "You’re a big kid, huh. You sure that deer will be enough to fill ya?" He asked in a teasing manner.

Victor nodded, seeming confident. "Yeah."

And Logan nodded, too. "Okay, up." He said, picking himself up and gesturing for Victor to do the same. "C’mon, birthday boy. Let’s get you some food."

"And beer?" Victor asked as he stood up.

"No beer," Logan responded, shaking his head. "Kids can’t have beer." Logan lead Victor inside, stepping around the corpse and bringing Victor over to a table. "Can’t believe you found me out here, kid. I’m impressed." He patted Victor’s back before head out to carry the deer inside. "I’ll get this ready to eat; you go wash up, okay, bub?"

"‘Kay." Victor said quietly, watching as Logan hauled his kill into the house.

"Bub," Logan paused, feeling Victor’s eyes. "Wash up." He repeated his earlier request, now sounding more like a demand. Victor lowered his gaze, mumbling something that sounded like a sorry before getting up to go to the bathroom. Logan let out a sigh of relief once he heard water running and continued hauling in the deer.

This was going to be one interesting birthday, but he’d be damned if he didn’t make it a good one for lil Vic.

More writing :3

CW: Swearing

"I trust you as far as I can throw you." Victor stated coldly, crossing his arms. "We always stab each other in the back. This time’ll be no different."

"Firstly, it’s always you who stabs me in the back. Literally." Logan scowled, walking up to the other mutant. "But fine. You trust me as far as you can throw me? Then throw me, big guy. We have to work together for this, so if that’ll earn your damn trust, then just fuckin’ throw me."

Victor was taken aback, not expecting Logan to offer himself up like that. It was unprecedented, but admirable. He thought for a moment before a smirk crept along his face. "It matter where?" He asked.

"What the hell are you thinkin’, Creed?" Logan narrowed his eyes. "Just fuckin’ throw me. Get your energy out, you’re like a fuckin’ kid." He waved his hand dismissively.

Victor gave a fangy grin and scooped Logan up, sliding one arm under his legs and wrapping the other around his back to secure a hold on him. He carried Logan quite the distance and for a while, Logan didn’t protest or argue. Not until he heard running water, that is. "Creed!" He shouted, as Victor approached a cliff.

"Easy, runt. Just gonna throw you over the chasm to the other side; from one cliff to another." He explained, gesturing to another cliff just across the chasm.

"Are you crazy!? Damn it, Creed! Put me down! I’ll end up fallin’ in the water!" Logan screamed and flailed around, but Victor didn’t let go. He only laughed at his struggle.

"Better hope I can trust you a lot, runt, or you’re gonma end up havin’ a watery grave!" Victor laughed as he raised Logan above his head and at full force, hurled him across the chasm.

Logan angrily called out Victor’s name as he was thrown, but his screams seemed to not reach the others’ ears. He was thrown far for the other to properly hear--or maybe Victor just didn’t want to hear. The running water certainly didn’t help him to be heard ant clearer. Logan found crashing into the rocky earth on the other side of the chasm, not a splash of water on him. That definitely broke a few things.

"AHAHAH!" Victor roared victoriously. "Look’s like I can trust you good, runt!" He exclaimed.

Logan only groaned, rolling onto his back as he recovered from a few broken bones and open cuts. He was lucky that he could regenerate, but it still hurt like hell.

Mirrors of memory (ita)

The_Sick_Rose

Summary:

Victor Creed deve fare i conti con la sua memoria e le sue azioni passate. Gli X-Man devono fare i conti con Victor.

Capitolo 1: Break

Passò l'intera giornata ad aspettare. Era in viaggio da diversi giorni, partendo da Harrisburg, Pennsylvania fino a Westchester, impiegando più tempo del previsto. Si era fermato più volte per cambiare veicolo e evitare di destare sospetti, finendo per guidare una Toyota Corolla del 2007 con molti chilometri all'attivo verso il suo obiettivo finale.

In altre circostanze avrebbe sicuramente preferito prendere una moto, ma il suo fattore rigenerante evidentemente non stava collaborando dopo l'ultimi esperimenti che gli avevano gentilmente offerto. Normalmente non avrebbe mai pensato di chiedere aiuto a quei nerd dal cuore d'oro, ma come si dice, in tempi disperati si ricorre a misure disperate.

Era lì, aspettando. Aveva parcheggiato la macchina un paio d'ore più indietro e aveva camminato lentamente lungo la strada che portava alla villa, rimanendo al di fuori di un perimetro altamente difeso. Era notte avanzata, probabilmente erano le 3 del mattino forse di più, le luci erano quasi tutte spente tranne per una fessura di luce al secondo piano dell'ala ovest. Sapeva che sarebbe stato meglio aspettare che fosse completamente buio, ma dopo aver fatto il giro del perimetro e essendo stanco del fatto che la sua condizione non migliorava, decise che doveva provarci.

Prese la rincorsa dal bosco in cui si trovava e saltò oltre la recinzione, sentendo l'allarme scattare con un fischio sottile. Alcune luci si accesero e poteva immaginare i famigerati X-Men che si preparavano nei loro eleganti costumini.

Arrivò come un ariete sulla finestra che portava alla cucina e cadde sul pavimento. Pezzi di vetro si incastrarono nei suoi vestiti e nella pelle. Un gesto che aveva gettato benzina sul fuoco e il dolore che provava da più di due giorni si fece ancora più intenso. Si rialzò il più velocemente possibile e si mise in posizione d'attacco con le spalle al muro.

Questa volta non attese a lungo, riconoscendo l'odore del tappo e sapendo che si stava avvicinando e che era pronto per uno scontro, non che la cosa non fosse reciproca. Tuttavia, stavolta non avrebbe agito attaccandoper primo, doveva solo mantenere la posizione il tempo sufficiente per trovare uno spazio per spiegare la situazione. Sinceramente sperava nell'arrivo di qualche telepate.

Prima di vederlo, Wolverine sentì il ruggito, un rumore di metallo che veniva sfoderato e la porta della cucina che veniva sdradicata dai cardini con un calcio. Senza pensarci due volte, si precipitò alla carica a testa bassa gridando Sabertooth!. Si abbassò il più possibile per eseguire un attacco, le sue unghie erano già nel fianco del nemico e i suoi artigli troppo vicini al viso per i suoi gusti.

Venne spinto in dietro con un calcio nello sterno che gli fece perdere l'equilibrio e finire contro il muro. Vide gli artigli scintllare alla luce della luna che entrava nitida dalla finestra rotta un secondo prima di sentirli entrare e uscire dal fianco. Si accasciò a sedere sul pavimento, il respiro pesante. Wolverine fece un passo in dietro.

"Che c'è Cocco? Già stanco? Non so a cosa stai giocando, ma non ti permetterò di andare oltre."

Una risata rauca uscì dalla sua bocca insieme a un po' di sangue. Stava davvero male per cadere dopo un solo colpo. Tentò di parlare, ma prima che potesse farlo la luce si accese e il piccolo gruppo che era arrivato si stava già preparando per il combattimento intorno a lui. Lentamente cercò di alzare le mani in segno di resa, ma un forte dolore al fianco lo fermò a metà.

Mise una mano sulla ferita e la vide davanti a sé coperta di sangue che continuava a fluire. Tra le dita sporche di sangue intravide la persona che sperava di trovare. La gracile dai capelli rossi. La vista gli si annebbiava e tutto si mescolava in una grande macchia. Con un ultimo pensiero cosciente sperò che lei lo sentisse. "Aiuto".

~~~~~~~~~~~

Il resto del capitolo continua sul sito.

Mirrors of memory

The_Sick_Rose

Summary:

Victor Creed have to deal with his memory and his past action. The x-man have to deal with Victor.

Chapter 1: Break

He spent the whole day waiting. He had been traveling for several days, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to Westchester, taking longer than expected. He had stopped several times to change vehicles and avoid arousing suspicion, ending up driving a 2007 Toyota Corolla with many kilometers to his final goal.

In other circumstances he would certainly prefer to take a bike, but his regenerating factor was evidently not cooperating after the last experiments that had kindly offered him. Normally he would never have thought to ask for help to those nerds with a heart of gold, but as they say, in desperate times they resort to desperate measures.

He was there, waiting. He had parked the car a couple of hours back and walked slowly along the road leading to the villa, remaining outside a highly defended perimeter. It was late at night, it was probably 3:00 in the morning maybe more, the lights were almost all off except for a crack of light on the second floor of the west wing. He knew it would be better to wait until it was completely dark, but after circling the perimeter and getting tired of his condition not improving, he decided he had to try.

He ran into the woods in which he was standing and jumped over the fence, hearing the alarm go off with a thin whistle. Some lights went on and he could imagine the infamous X-Men getting ready in their fancy costumes.

She came like a battering ram to the window leading to the kitchen and fell on the floor. Pieces of glass got stuck in her clothes and skin. A gesture that had poured gasoline on the fire and the pain it felt for more than two days became even more intense. He got up as fast as he could and got into an attacking position with his back against the wall.

This time he did not wait long, recognizing the smell of the cork and knowing that it was approaching and that he was ready for a clash, not that it was mutual. However, this time he would not act attacker beforehand, he just had to maintain the position enough time to find a space to explain the situation. He sincerely hoped for the arrival of some telepaths.

Before he saw it, Wolverine heard the roar, a sound of metal being pulled out, and the door to the kitchen being kicked down from its hinges. Without thinking twice, he rushed to the charge head down and shouted Sabertooth. He stooped as low as possible to execute an attack, his nails were already in the side of the enemy and his claws too close to the face for his taste.

He was pushed back with a kick in the sternum that made him lose his balance and end up against the wall. He saw the claws cleaving in the moonlight entering through the broken window a second before he heard them coming in and out of the side. He collapsed to sit on the floor, heavy breathing. Wolverine took a step back.

"What is it Bob? Already tired? I don’t know what you’re playing, but I won’t let you go any further."

A hoarse laugh came out of her mouth along with a little blood. She was really sick to fall off after one blow. He tried to speak, but before he could, the light went on and the small group that had arrived was already preparing for the fight around him. Slowly he tried to raise his hands in surrender, but a strong pain in his side stopped him in the middle.

He put a hand on the wound and saw it before him covered with blood that continued to flow. Between the blood-stained fingers I saw the person he was hoping to find. The red-haired frail. His vision was blurred and everything was mixed in a big spot. With one last conscious thought she hoped she would hear it. "Help".

~~~~~~~~~~~~

english isn't my fristh linguage and i did NOT have a BETA READER we die like Silverfox.