#operation hellsing

[artnijna]

Doodled some Alucards

[wheregoodthingsthrive]

well trying to find hellsing community has oddly failed once more. as a result i have the deadly need to write grounded, humans-are-the-threat hellsing prequel fanfic with Daniel Silva vibes and leaning into the 2000s emphasis on hellsing as an actual operative with social repercussions for existing.

[secret-sector-antag]

🦇⚔ Dhampir Hunter V ⚔🦇

Intros/Profiles Part 1/?: Our Old Friends

It started as a side-job. Numbuh 6-5000 had heard of other kids in the organization who had a sort of side gig, on top of their KND obligations. Detectives, candy hunters...you name it. With her....let's say "extra footing" in the realm of the supernatural, why not a monster hunter? Besides, she could imagine other kids would pay biiiig chunks of their allowance to help with some sort of spooky shit, why tf not?

Granted, the "hunting" wasn't like in the movies where they often...y'know, terminated. In this case, she treated it as a sort of "public health" sort thing: keeping tabs on potential waves of homework-eating weredogs, nerd zombies, vampires (spank-happy or otherwise), things of that nature- and nipping the epidemic in the bud with the power of her combat skills and, of course, medical knowledge and assistance once her target was back to normal. Of course, there were times were her "targets" weren't of a spooky nature, and they turned into more of a mythical creature hunt, but hey; she did have "hunter" in her name, so...kinda came with the territory, right?

For almost 2 years, Val roamed the nights on patrol for supernatural threats to kid-kind.

Then came her 13th birthday.

With her sector being of a rather...unique...nature, and how much of a help that could be, the organization all but confirmed that, come everyone's respective 13th, they'd be inducted to the TND...of course, under the condition that they don't turn traitor or royally screw up. ...Aaaaand of course, they kept this "all of you get in! :D" tidbit until then. Jerks.

Having not really heard from a couple of the other older operatives of the sector (specifically Ramsay and Candy...but that's because they were on their own mission elsewhere), she assumed that they were decommissioned and had integrated into the confusing, zit-filled world of teenhood...and with her being summoned to Moonbase, the same was about to happen to her, too. But boy, was she wrong. She is informed that her assistance is urgently requested in Schprekenheim (see Op. C.A.K.E.D.-T.H.R.E.E.), according to a letter sent to both her and the higher-ups of Moonbase.

Thing is...the letter is from what appears to be an outside organization, only referred to as S.C.A.R.E.. The letter states that the area is experiencing a surge of incidents involving homework-eating weredogs, some new beast known as a "StrigOwie", and other paranormal sorts of beings involved in anti-kid activity. Having gotten wind of several of the KND's missions (overall, not as a sector proper) in their area, they had put in an inquiry to see if there was anyone that could potentially help them with their, aaaah... "unique" problem.

Although Val had been doing this sort of "monster hunter job" as a side gig. her encounters were relatively few and far between....now being sent into the area that appears to be teeming with them, she needs to keep her wits about her.

...Then there's the whole issue of "dhampir puberty" that starts coming into play- including mood swings, power spikes, this weird, hand-print-like mark that develops on her face (after the first big emotion/power spike)...could she be turning into one of the monsters she's sworn to fight against?

...On a good note, though she is a stranger in a strange land and has no idea what to expect on her assignment, she does have a familiar face/voice that- albeit several hundreds of miles away- is able to bring her up to speed on some things.

Supposedly, the times that she was on "urgent business" were actually prep classes by some of the more tech-y operatives...

While Minerva is stationed at the Sector ANTAG HQ, she can at least be of some help: keeping Val and her temporary teammates up to date on reports...and of course, listening to her girlfriend talk about her day and helping her through your standard " teenage girl" issues.

---------------- *Author's Note: "Danger Level" and "Priority Target Level" are kind of the same thing? Only difference is that "DL" is used mainly for operatives actively out in the field/"active combat", while "PTL" are those who aren't/aid in a different area and spend most of their time NOT in the field.*

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hey there hope you’re doing well just wondering what kind of jobs do you think the characters of hellsing have in a normal life?

Ayoo here's a collection of silly ideas from the Hellsing Discord mostly (and some scraps of my last braincells):

Alucard teaches history and is obsessed with wars specifically. Infodumps about brutal facts a concerningly amount.

Anderson would be either a librarian, a kindergarden teacher every parent feels mildly intimidated by (but the kids love him very much), or a theology professor.

Seras would be a personal trainer or a bodyguard.

Integra was supposed to inherit her father's business but became a lawyer that specializes in enforcing human rights.

Walter is an undercover agent that works as a butler to unveil Arthur's massive tax fraud.

Pip is a temp worker that's talented with everything but still can't keep a job for two weeks straight because of his attitude.

Maxwell becomes one of those redpill influencers that sells bullshit to his naive followers and makes thirst edits of himself.

Heinkel gives classes for material arts or sports.

Yumie would be a school counselor or a nurse with an open ear for everyone.

Jan and Luke own the club they had in Hellsing Gonzo. Jan ends up in prison often but his brother somehow always bails him out.

The Captain is an ex-soldier with a lot of confirmed kills. Retires to become a dog-walker or work in an animal shelter.

The Major would either be an evil CEO or the leader of a cult-like commune that claims they don't fit into today's society (definetly commits felonies either way).

The Doc would be a chef, a fashion designer, or one of those surgeons with questionable PHD that offers body modification operations in his basement.

Rip writes dark romance novels that sell surprisingly well with the booktok girlies (we all know her Tumblr would be fire).

Zorin is a tattoo artist with a side business on etsy (she scams people by selling fake magic stuff).

Dandy has no job, he literally scams people with gambling and card tricks.

[ryunumber]

Alucard (Hellsing) has a Ryu number of at most 2. Alucard is an operator voice in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (remake) and III (remake). Multiple The Walking Dead characters are also in COD as operator voices or guest characters, and from there it's a link through brawlhalla.

If you wanted to mosey around a bit, you could link alucard to the non-negan TWD voices in CoD, to Negan, to Tekken, to SFxT

Limited, but regardless, thank you for the submission!

[east-side-militia]

hellsing if millennium got involved with operation paperclip

[bunniisms]

WALTER. C. DORNEZ HEADCANON DUMP

Blame this headcanon dump on the tremendous support from my friends and my unending obsession with this Old Fart and throwing him down the metaphoric staircases in my brain!

THE C IN HIS NAME ISN'T A MIDDLE NAME. Remind me to talk about it at length later, because it's an entire bullshit that would make this post far, far longer that I've already made it. Instead, the C in Walter's name stands for COURTENAY, the name of the old, old noble family he draws descendants from. Who had historical connections to the art of Vampire Hunting & the Hellsing Family via their connection to the Vatican and support of the late Abraham Van Hellsing.

Walter was the son of a daughter who didn't have the name (or any claim) to pass down beyond her and her late husband's friendship with Arthur Hellsing. As an adult, Walter's reclaimed the title and hyphenated his last name (i.e. Courtenay-Dornez)

TLDR: Walter C. Dornez but the C in his name is a desperate clinging symbol and claim to historic (and almost forgotten) notoriety and a connection to the business he’s attached his whole identity to but never found direct happiness from

WALTER DESCENDS FROM PEERAGE BUT ISN'T DIRECTLY OF ANY IMPORTANCE TO ANY NOBLE FAMILIES

This is sort of canon, but WALTER HAS DEEPLY STAKED HIS SENSE OF IDENTITY AND PERSON-HOOD INTO VAMPIRE-HUNTING and the concept of both his body deteriorating with age, and his gradual sense of being rendered obsolete behind New Operatives and Alucard is the heartbeat in the floorboard driving him to madness. FOR WALTER TO BE BENCHED OR TO BE RETIRED, HE SEES THAT AS THE DEATH OF HIMSELF IN A FAR MORE VISCERAL SENSE

WALTER IS AN OXYMORON OF ARROGANCE AND INSECURITY. Walter struggles with his sense of identity and his place in the world. It's not that he feels useless, but he feels like he has been doomed and damned to forever be third best - unable to move forward - unable to be better, to be wanted by existence (and himself), always envious and wanting for any claim of his own that he can truly sink his teeth into and use as a salve to cover the infected wounds of insecurity that have been with him since he was a child.

HOWEVER, the funny thing with Walter? As much as he feels this way, he is a haughty, arrogant, catty bastard. He views the vast majority of people, human and otherwise, as far, far beneath him, even with his insecurity being what it is. Walter knows he could be MORE, but these other people? It would be a miracle if they even got to his weakest position. Their words have precisely as much weight as the clucking of chickens.

WALTER HIDES THESE TRAITS WITH A JEEVES-LIKE FACADE AND PERSONA OF WARMTH AND HUMILITY. A lot of the time, the Walter seen smiling and bowing, offering his hand and advice, greeting the guests and answering the household's calls with a polite warmth is as superficial as a cardboard mockup - it's an act - the Walter we see walk out and make pot shots to scare Jan and quote his speech back at him. THAT'S THE REAL WALTER. Walter hasn't so much changed that part of him that we saw so much of in Dawn, as much as he's learned to hide it.

ONE OF WALTER'S LOVE LANGUAGES IS TRANSPARENCY. Walter has developed such a false crust of subservience and humility and comically stereotypical butler-like deference. You know you've sunk deeper into his person when he begins lifting the act in more intimate settings. Walter might seem to get sharper and cattier, a little more mean-girl-esc with his judgement and quips, but that's Walter! If you took him for a sweet old man, you bought the charade, hook, and sinker. THIS is the real Walter, THIS is what goes on inside his mind's palace. Either embrace it or take the check and go! Haha

UNLIKE THE HOUSE OF COURTENAY'S CATHOLIC ORIGINS, WALTER IS ANGLICAN and sparsely practicing, making sure to attend major Church Functions alongside the Household (such as Integra) but not making much of a habit of attending the small chapel inside the Hellsing Estate

WALTER HAS FOURTH NERVE PALSY, caused during The Dawn Arc after he sustained a massive skull fracture and very nearly died

YES, HE DOES BLAME ALUCARD FOR THE INCIDENT THAT CAUSED THIS, they were assigned to a mission together, flushing out operatives in Warsaw together, and yet, they became separated. Alucard's bloodlust or showboating slowed him down, and Walter was left alone to fend on his own. While successful for a while, Walter was a child, a lone child, and his enemies had no mercy. By the time Alucard dragged his carcass back to Hellsing, there was little to be done. But, despite rescuing him after, Walter never forgave Alucard for the part he feels Alucard played. His blame is partially misplaced, but it still burns hot, and the paranoia festering in the back of his mind forever wonders whether it was delayed by accident or if he orchestrated it all to stunt his abilities and prevent him from surpassing Alucard? (it's absolutely NOT that Walter, I can promise you)

WALTER HAS A SMALL HABIT OF ALWAYS LEANING/COCKING HIS HEAD SLIGHTLY TO THE RIGHT SIDE TO COMPENSATE FOR THE DAMAGE TO HIS EYE AND VISION

RE: THE MONOCLE, it's not there for the aesthetics of a Victorian nobleman, though that's not to say Walter doesn't carefully cultivate his image. Walter's monocle is a prescription medical device; it helps correct issues with his depth perception and acquired short-sightedness caused by his palsy (especially with reading). Additionally, it's been a wonder how ptosis symptoms in his right eye that've stemmed from the palsy have been eased with the monocle supporting that side of his face.

WALTER ALSO HAS PERIPHERAL HYPER-MOBILITY SPECTRUM DISORDER most notably impacting his hands, wrists and fingers, but more broadly affecting his ankles and feet too. In recent years, Walter's found that the symptoms have been worsening and spread to his knees, too, but he's never spoken openly about this and resents it greatly. The records from Hellsing-pocket Doctors making note of the degeneration of his condition have always been burned, almost as though destroying them could silence the truth in some way.

THE PURPOSE OF THE GLOVES, while Butlers wearing gloves is a tale as old as time, Walter wears them not to uphold old traditions of cleanliness and not smudging things - but rather to hide the slight but noticeable gaps at the center of each of his fingertips where he ejects the monofilament from, which is unfortunately essential when facing the public. He removes them the second he gets behind closed doors and happily does that.

WALTER HAS A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DISABILITIES, BUT THEN AGAIN, HE HAS A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYTHING

WALTER RE: THE WIRES AND THEIR IMPACT ON HIS BODY, the designs of the Late Hellsing and Seward, while innovative, were... imperfect. Flawed even. Walter REFUSES to come to terms with it, but the wires, despite their impeccable qualities, have been degrading his body MORE than gradually. They are the single leading reason for his Hyper-Mobility Spectrum Disorder; they have been EATING at the cartilage and connective tissue in his limbs and making his gradual decline far quicker than had ever been previously believed.

WALTER GOT HIS WIRES IN AN OPERATION AT TEN. It was a deeply invasive affair that left Walter bedridden for months. Directed by Seward and Hellsing loyalists and conducted by the last design of the Late Abraham Van Hellsing and his mentee Seward. WALTER CONSENTED AT THE TIME, IN FACT, HE WAS EAGER ABOUT IT AND THE PROMISE. Walter wanted the prestige, the power, to feel purpose and drive and to have something that was his, that defined him, and the miserable life he'd been gifted that was always at the mouth of the river, leaving him looking up at the source and the promise he had been born outside of and dreaming. HOWEVER, IT WAS STILL SKETCHY AF AFFAIR, AND AS THE WORD OF GOD, IT WAS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, AN INCIDENT OF ADULTS EXPLOITING THE LACK OF KNOWLEDGE, INNOCENCE AND EAGERNESS OF A CHILD FOR PERSONAL BENEFIT.

WALTER'S LOVE LANGUAGE IS QUALITY TIME. Walter, while a womanizer, is no adept man in the art of romance - some would call him a tad clumsy, but that's not it, nor would it be right to call him cold or unromantic. Walter is simply... atypical. He doesn't enjoy grand gestures of romance or constant touch - Walter is a man of boundary, and his ideal form of love is the quiet, cat-like sort of co-existing in joy. Can he perform his duties and passions and look over to see someone he is fond of simply existing - caught in their natural environment and at peace WITH him? That's ideal for him.

WALTER IS A SOMMELIER. Read as Wine Snob, not only for his job, but he just really enjoys wine!

WALTER AND BEING A BACHELOR IS A DELIBERATE CHOICE. He's had proposals passed onto him, and thrice, he's declined. He's had his girls and boys, but never committed even to the point of being considered lovers. Walter is simply most at ease on his lonesome, and though it might seem lonesome at the surface, it's ideal for his line of work and his love style.

HE ALSO IS ALLERGIC TO DEEP COMMITMENT BUT SHHHH

WALTER DOES A LOT OF WORK AND TAKES A LOT OF PRIDE IN KEEPING HIS APPEARANCE. Sorry, I KNOW this man wears expensive colognes that he has organized for the seasons, has all his suits and tail coats properly fitted and has a skincare routine. He IS the type, and I love that for him. His toiletry cabinet is more stuffed with product than either Integra or Seras' COMBINED! He will not leave his room until his hair is slicked back and he smells like sandalwood ON GOD.

THOUGH THAT BEING SAID, HE IS LONELY IN THE SENSE THAT HE FEELS DEEPLY ALONE WITHOUT PEERS; he simply doesn't see most other people, most other creatures, as on his level. In that, and his arrogance, he is deeply alone, but it's a cage of his own creation.

HE LOVES INTEGRA LIKE A DAUGHTER, AND I REFUSE TO SEE IT ANY OTHER WAY; he helped raise that girl - a constant, familiar face in the background of her youngest years. He watched her be born in the house, he was one of the first that held her - she was one of few she gave a big smile to as a baby (she was one of few things that ever made him reconsider his decision to never want children), she watched her walk, then run and grow into a girl and then a confident young woman. And when it comes to the betrayal :,)

I could make an ENTIRE post detailing my thoughts about it and how I portray it, but Walter had been turned into a Freak a long, long time ago, and by the time he met Integra (as in, she was born), he was too far gone to be saved, and he knew it. There was a gun to the back of his head - he had the chip, and he could be toast at any moment; he... well, he selfishly did what he needed to do to survive. Sometimes, the awful truth is that both things can co-exist, and a person can be caught between love and survival and still choose survival, even after everything.

I'm 10000% on copium with this. Still, I feel his whole Ebony Darkness Dementia speech to Integra was to VILLAINIZE HIM AND HIS MEMORY IN HER MIND - he spent DECADES selfishly loving her and raising her, and he knows she returned those feelings. They never spoke about it, but he KNEW. She'd ask him his opinions (even when he, as a servant, wasn't entitled to those against the word of his lord), request him to have dinner upstairs with her and attend church functions alongside him, even when she was a grown woman. He was one of the most consistent fatherly figures she had. He became that for her, but he doesn't want her to spend any years agonizing or grieving over another dead father. Telling her he's a mustache-twirling evil that has always plotted her downfall is another selfish lie. Still, he hopes and needs to believe that maybe, maybe, that'll make it easier on her heart to cope with the rug-pull, his defection (and death) and losing yet another dad.

WALTER IS INTEGRA'S MOST ADAMENT APOLOGIST AND DEFENDER; this is another truth of mine I will take to the grave, and Hirano can fight me. It's not Walter's place as a servant to feel that level of protection over his master - even given his place, having watched her grow. Still, something alien takes over his sensibilities when he hears people speak against her brazenly, and he'll stamp it out in his own petty way. He's her dad, your honour!

[ms-scarletwings]

Irken Zim’s 8 biggest fans

For funsies! As we are well aware, this guy has a lot of gut-haters and censurers across the galaxy. Over his long years of life, he’s gained a proud infamy from every corner of the Irken empire, all the way to the fringes beyond, and the number of critics snapping at his heels only grows with every adventure. Whole civilizations sit at their seat’s edge waiting for this invader’s downfall, but what of those who defy all odds, expectations, maybe even logic? Even devils somehow find worshippers, even criminals get fan mail, and even Invader Zim has someone rooting for him within the 4th wall. Weirdly quite a handful of them, actually, let’s recount.

8. Table Headed Service Drone Bob

It’s humorous, how odd circumstance can make for strange advocacy. The show’s universe operates on the rule of funny, and Bob just so happened to be in the right place and time to comedically become the only Irken alive with something to gain from Zim’s success, and so much to lose for his failure. The sheer unfairness of what the Tallest put him through along with Zim serving some hope for a miracle ticket out of his low standing seemed to snap something in him, even if just for an episode. It would make sense for anyone in his position to have a much more dampened love for their society and leaders, to the point where cheering on its greatest enemy would be preferable than another moment of being a doormat. An underdog rooting for an underdog, even if for purely selfish and coincidental reasons.

7. The Judgementia Control brains

Even more deliciously ironic, isn’t it- That Zim’s praise was be sung once from the very bottom rung of Irken society and then again from the highest spike? What better to follow up poor Bobby than another victim of astronomical circumstance, or rather, three victims together? The nutshell recap of “The Trial’s” plot climax spells out the tragedy of, what is basically Irk’s highest court officials, to become he first ever victims of Zim’s malignant code becoming a contagion. They’ve joined the Fanclub, even if against their will, and all the better for Zim this time to have support from such a high place, seeing that it literally saved his hide in this instance.

6. Dib Membrane

Yeah, that’s freaking right. He’s on the list. You think being a hype man and a mortal rival are mutually exclusive? You either haven’t been watching enough DBZ or you haven’t been watching enough Hellsing and should fix that. Anyway, and I’m speaking within the actual canon dynamic of these two… it is very important to Zim that Dib is perceived as a formidable opponent to bluster his own ego, and vise versa. Dib is not in any self-serving position to accept what an actual mess Zim’s operation is, even though he has more evidence of the alien’s horrible tactics, nonsense plans, failures, etc. than anyone else on the planet. Gaz can see Zim for exactly what he is and why fighting him doesn’t have to be this 24/7 urgent priority. Dib refuses to get that because stopping Zim’s pop-up schemes only keeps the score tied for them. They’ve both been at this long enough to get incredibly frustrated with the lack of progression regarding the big picture goals, taking over the world, and exposing a live alien to the world, respectively. I don’t think he has to keep describing this space goblin as some ultra-cunning master of villainy, or GIR as this nefarious minion because that’s what he actually thinks of them, but because if he admits otherwise, that’s not a great reflection of his own merit for the obvious reasons. Just the presentation of another dimension’s version of himself succeeding against Zim before him causes a spiral of self doubt, just as it can bring Zim to a minor panic watching other invaders leaving him in the dust. Dib wants this guy to be a challenge worth the victory lap when he finally gets what he’s been fighting so hard for.

When Zim is getting on some truly idiotic antics, Dib doesn’t actually revel in his disorganized stupidity, but meets it with a baffled or annoyed disappointment. Like me watching a character I thought was super badass suddenly do something that reveals them to just be utterly lame. Too often he almost comes off like he is critiquing Zim’s performance as a villain rather than,, you know, the fact that Zim is a villain in the first place. It more than once has led to accidentally giving the guy new ideas or pointers on how to do his own job better once in a while. If I were in Dib’s place I would under NO circumstances be giving Zim advice or corrections on what he’s doing “badly” when it comes to the invader thing, but, whatever makes you feel cool & smart, you little dork. There’s also the whole “Dib’s hatred for Zim belies his geeky fixation with aliens broadly” angle I’ve mentioned here or there before, and don’t mind to again. Studying/stalking Zim is only partially about defeating him. His curiosity over Irken tech, biology, etc. is still coming from a place of genuine scientific passion, as literally all of us know. And of course, on occasion the two make for unlikely allies against much bigger shared enemies.

5. Minimoose

Oh come on, how much could I even have to say about this moose-weapon? He has two fathers and is fully aware that Zim is one of them. Assuming we all here know about the cute Florpus quote; no need to recap the whole existence of the lil guy.

4. Invader Skoodge

Now this guy… this guy ain’t right. Exactly here, at this (I say with love) loser of an invader, we reach two tipping points when it comes to Zim-affinity. One, the tipping point where Zim ceases to ask for and ceases to appreciate the toadying. Two, the point where I actually kind of struggle to find any rational explanation for the toady’s behavior. Like I’ve tried and I genuinely don’t know how to put together how Skoodge keeps jumping into this position other than ‘it’s that funny’ or some weird familiarity from smeethood factor. All of the invaders know what Zim has done and what he’s capable of. He’s a consistent terrorist of his own kin and defamed as the greatest disgrace to the Empire. The two options for how to feel about Zim as any random Irken soldier are fear, and/or loathing. If Skoodge were just neutral or indifferent of Zim, that’d be pretty freaking odd. But Skoodge interacts with Zim on the level of at least a lukewarm acquaintance, readily even deferring to his command, despite the fact that he nearly dies every single time he does so. He survives miles of being chased by a monster on Hobo-13, he makes it to the finish line, and his first reaction is to let Zim know he’s made it in one piece. He decides to lay low and slack off after getting fired (into the blighted surface of Blorch) and out of the entire universe to choose from, he decides to go hole up at Zim’s place and stay conveniently out of the way for some time. Dude finally shows himself in the unfinished scripts, and it’s to motherfucking help Zim troll around with Dib. I’m up at night wondering what is going on in Skoodge’s head because he’s n o t an idiot. He’s a real invader in all other respects, just as competent and nationalistic as the rest of them. Easily suggestible, yes, but not stupid. There’s basically no way for him to be ignorant of the big lie the Tallest sold Zim, yet he chooses not to utter a peep on the matter. Pity? A bizarre sense of solidarity?? A delusional one sided friendship??? Don’t look at me like I know other than the fact that he’s on our protag’s team, in spirit. The wannabe Irwin to Zim’s Billy, essentially.

3. Keef

So yeah of all things to blow Skoodge’s unhealthy attachment clean out of the water, we stumbled into this freak of a human child. Keef is a loyal compadre to a fault. A huge, creepy fault. Kid was originally supposed to make a return as well, wherein he was no less of a stubborn stalker than already proven once. And extra points for the irrational selflessness. Even while demonstrating an understanding of what Zim did in Dark Harvest, possibly even with the memory of that whole squirrel incident, he still wishes nothing but for the ability to put a smile on his green friend’s face.

2. The Amoeboid Cult

And when none thought that the scary conviction Zim garnered on Earth could be his biggest fans, you find this little ditty in the comics, and it starts turning into an irresponsible god analogy fairly quick. The short recap is that following a crash on a strange planet, the Voot Runner starts leaking fluids that inadvertently spark abiogenesis, which results in the creation of a rapidly evolving race of blob-things. Seizing an opportunity, Zim at first demands their followership, and then shortly after gets fed up with it as he did the previous fanatic on the list. Nonetheless, the cell people continue to reproduce and age thousands of years their time in the span of a couple minutes, never losing that zeal for their unintentional creator, even going so far as to repair the cruiser despite Zim’s rejection of them. Out of what little they gathered about him during his short visit, they correctly learned he’s a destructive god who planned to abandon them as soon as he could. Their last wish as a civilization? For this god to also obliterate them, as final treat. Such was their devotion that it even left Zim himself completely baffled for a moment when its full depth was revealed.

1. GIR

You watch this show, right? Yeah? Henchman and sidekick number one? Chaotic thing this whole fandom can’t decide to perceive as an adoptive child or a talking pet? He may not be as competent in pleasing Zim’s wishes as minimoose, or as focused, but his heart and loyalty are ultimately with their intended master, unconditionally and for as long as this setting has continued.

[dont-need-one-of-these-do-i]

Hellsing Anti-Whumptober Prompt 1

(What is this? Look here!)

<< master list || next >>

Integra ducks behind the wall, her chest heaving. She can feel her heart pounding behind her breastbone, pumping oxygenated blood to her extremities, which burn with exertion. She takes a second to catch her breath, waiting until the gun in her hands no longer shakes with the minute jitters of her trembling fingers before sticking her head back out around the brick wall. 

The sun-soaked field is littered with bodies, and even from her position far from the carnage she can see that the majority of the casualties are painted with red, their armor stripped with vermilion. 

Integra tugs her head back behind the wall of the Hellsing mansion and makes a decision. It’s time for her trump card.

“Alucard,” she calls, her voice barely a whisper so as to not be heard by the enemy, “I need you.”

The shadows beside her blink, and if she were any normal thirteen-year-old girl, she would have screamed. But Sir Integra Hellsing is not a normal thirteen-year-old girl, and is unfazed by Alucard, the no-life king, materializing out of the darkness directly next to her. 

The vampire yawns and stretches his arms above his head, which Integra slaps to get him to put them down. “What is it, little master?”

“We are at war. I need your help.”

Alucard looks down at Integra with one eyebrow raised. “Master, you know that I’m not supposed to help you in this.”

“Those were orders given to you by someone other than me, therefore what I ask of you trumps it. Now, help me.”

For a second Integra thinks that Alucard isn’t going to help, that he’s going to betray her and leave her to fend for herself surrounded by enemies. Then he smiles like a feral dog and she knows she’s got him. 

“Very well. There are five enemy combatants directly downhill from your position. A pair of snipers are over there,” the vampire points to a raised platform on the right side of the field, “and another just there.” He gestures again discreetly to a platform on the other side of the field, this one higher up but smaller. “And there are two coming around the back of the house just now.”

Integra turns to look directly at Alucard, her eyes wide. “Why would you not lead with that?!” Her voice is a low hiss, incredulous, and it makes the vampire grin. 

“I can’t give everything to you on a silver platter, now can I?” And with that, the vampire phases through the wall, leaving the young knight to fend off two attackers on her own.

Cursing Alucard out under her breath, Integra checks the paintball gun in her hands. There’s plenty of ammunition left in the chamber, the paint-filled pellets stark blue against the black of the gun, so she readjusts her grip on the handles and flattens herself against the wall, turning her attention to the new threat. 

A tall man in red-accented tactical gear rounds the corner and, luckily for Integra, he doesn’t notice her right away. She manages to get a shot directly to his chest, the small ball exploding into a veritable cloud of blue paint, and he falls dramatically to the ground, throwing his limbs out and making a very exaggerated oomph sound. 

She scoffs at the dramatics, but once he’s on the ground, Integra gets a better look at his face and recognizes Flint Douglas. Internally, Integra preens at having caught one of the Hellsing organization’s special operatives by surprise, but she keeps her face from showing her pride. 

Integra’s not so lucky the second time, as the other soldier saw her companion fall, but the young girl manages to drop low and avoid the spray of red paint-filled pellets that slam into the wall behind her. As she ducks, Integra pulls the trigger, catching the woman in the arm with the first shot, and then in the stomach with the second. Like Flint, she too dramatically falls to the ground, even going as far as to throw the back of her hand against her forehead as she does so. 

Flint is laughing quietly at this point, and when Integra looks at him, he raises a thumbs up to her. “Nice shooting, sir!”

“Thank you,” Integra mumbles curtly, before checking behind her, and running off around the building in the opposite direction that the soldiers had come from. 

The field behind the Hellsing mansion has some wooden obstacles erected in it but remains largely open. Integra watches as two of her teammates—identifiable by the blue tape stuck in stripes on the shoulders of their tactical gear—sneak below the raised platform on her right and ambush the snipers above, but also getting hit in the process. That leaves only one enemy left.

Integra crosses the field as quietly as she can, ducking behind obstacles and running low to the ground. The grass beneath her rain boots is slick with paint, but she keeps her footing. She reaches the box unnoticed and goes around the back to where the platform is open, and the figure inside is unguarded. She presses the butt of the air gun into the meat of her shoulder, stabilizing it as best she can, and lines up the shot. She breathes out and pulls the trigger.

The guard in the box rocks forward as he’s splattered across the back with blue paint, letting out a noise of surprise. He spins around, taking in the sight of his young boss, before laughing and lying down his weapon. 

“Nice work, sir!”

Integra, like before, looks at the ground and smiles. It had taken a lot of coercion to talk her into joining this round of the Hellsing Organization’s trimonthly paintball training game. Still, she’s finding it more enjoyable than she had initially expected. In fact, she—

Integra stumbles to the side, shocked out of her thoughts by the sensation of a small, red pellet slamming into her shoulder. She wheels on her heels, snapping her attention to the shooter.

Walter, head of the Hellsing mansion’s staff, stands there calmly, his paintball gun lowered, and his lips pursed in a nonchalant whistle. His eyes drift pointedly toward the treeline behind her, as though he had nothing to do with the fact that she is now splattered in red paint on one side.

“Walter,” Integra demands. “How dare you?!”

Walter, utterly unbothered, raises a single eyebrow. “I beg your pardon, my lady?”

“You shot me!” she accuses, gesturing indignantly to the smear of red paint staining her sleeve.

“Hmm.” Walter inspects his weapon, his expression one of mild amusement. “So it seems I did.”

Integra scowls, her fists clenching at her sides. “Traitorous behavior from my own staff,” she mutters, her voice dripping with mock dismay. “Unbelievable.”

Walter’s lips twitch, though he fights to keep his face composed. “It is my duty to prepare you for anything, my lady. Even unexpected treachery. Consider it…a lesson in vigilance.”

“I’ll show you vigilance,” Integra hisses under her breath, raising her gun.

Walter steps back, holding up his free hand as if to placate her. “Now, now. Surely we can agree I was acting in your best—”

Integra pulls the trigger. A burst of blue paint splatters across Walter’s chest, interrupting his protest mid-sentence.

Walter looks down at the vivid smear, his mouth twitching into what might have been a smile—if he weren’t so practiced at keeping a straight face. “Touché, my lady,” he says with a small bow.

“Damn right,” Integra says, lowering her gun.

From somewhere nearby, a familiar voice cuts through the air, dripping with amusement. “Very well handled, Master.”

Alucard materializes from the shadows, leaning lazily against a tree trunk. His crimson eyes glint with mischief. “Though I must say, I rather enjoyed watching Walter best you for a moment.”

Integra rounds on the vampire, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. “Care to repeat that, servant?”

“Me?” Alucard places a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Walter clears his throat, straightening his vest as if nothing had happened. “Shall I prepare some tea, my lady? A victorious warrior deserves refreshment, after all.”

Integra lets out a long-suffering sigh, pushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair out of her face. “Tea. And a sandwich, please. I’ve earned it.”

“As you wish,” Walter replies with a bow, his paint-splattered vest now a badge of her triumph.

Alucard chuckles as Integra strides back toward the mansion, head held high despite the streak of red paint on her shoulder. “You know,” he muses, falling into step beside her, “for someone so young, you do have a talent for commanding respect. Even if it’s…earned the hard way.”

Integra doesn’t bother looking at him, her tone imperious as ever. “That’s what makes me a Hellsing. Now stop wasting time and get back to work.”

“Yes, master,” Alucard says, his grin widening.

Ahead of them, from inside the manor, Walter watches them through a window with a knowing smile. The paintball game might be over, but it’s clear the real game never stops in the Hellsing household.

Big thank you to @coffin-of-dust for letting me include Flint!

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Prologue

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Time: Early March in the first year of ES’s establishment

Location: In a underground livehouse, one of UNDEAD’s haunts

Keito: (What is that?)

(What the hell is happening…?)

Rei: 『♪~♪~♪』

Kaoru: 『♪♪♪♪♪』

Koga: 『H！E！L！L！』

Adonis: 『S！I！N！G！』

Koga + Adonis: 『We are 『HELLSING』 ...☆』

Keito: I have no idea what’s going on—

HELLSING…? No matter how I look at it, that’s UNDEAD!

Rei: 『♪~♪~♪』

Kaoru: 『♪♪♪♪♪』

Keito: Oi! Listen up!

I know this isn’t a great time but I need to ask you guys something!

Adonis: —Hey. Oogami, Oogami, Hasumi-senpai is in the stage wings making a racket.

I am not sure how our senpais will react to this, so I think we should deal with him before something bad happens.

Koga: Nah, if somethin’ was gonna happen, it woulda happened by now.

Actually, I don’t want this important live t’be interrupted. Guess we’ll have t’see what he wants.

Oi, shitty glasses— Whaddya want?

Can’t you see we’re in the middle of rehearsal?

Keito: Let me make this clear first of all - I have no intention of interrupting your activities. I’m no longer the vice-president of the Student Council so I have no reason to be supervising the activities of problem children like you.

Koga: God, you fuckin’ know how t’waffle on and on. So why are you here if it’s got nothin’ t’do with us? Random person who looks good in glasses, whaddya want, hmmmm?

Keito: Well I don’t see how that’s relevant. We once donned the same costumes and participated in the same activities, and now we share an agency.

And that is precisely why I, as a representative of RhythmLink, have gone out of my way to come ask you this.

Your recent “peculiar activity” has become troublesome for the agency.

Therefore, I’d like to know what’s happening, UNDEAD.

Firstly-, what is “HELLSING”?

Koga: ...

Keito: Why are you keeping quiet, Oogami?

Can’t you explain it to me? After all, as you quite rightly said, you and I are in different units and are complete strangers who–

Adonis: Please wait a moment, Hasumi-senpai. I don’t think Oogami will be able to explain this very well.

Truthfully, we don’t really know what’s going on ourselves—

Koga: Shut it, Adonis. Yer actin’ like a parent who’s watchin’ their kid run their first errand. Stop addin’ unnecessary shit to the conversation.

Adonis: But, Hasumi-senpai will probably be able to offer useful advice—

Koga: Shut up! He fuckin’ said it himself, he ain’t got nothin’ to do with us anymore!

Now you’re actin’ like your our parents and tryna stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong! Stupid shitty glasses.

Keito: That was never my intention… I’m really– no, I mean, I’m worried about you.

I always end up imposing Oogami with heavy burdens that are my own responsibility.

Koga: Oi, don’t apologise! They told me to take it on, and you told me it was a lot anyway!

…Seriously man, don’t worry ‘bout it. HELLSING is just a different name we, UNDEAD, use on stage.

Recently, the hardcore rock image we use on stage versus the stupid silly image we use on like, variety shows is creatin’ a divert… divertent?

Adonis: A divergence?

Koga: Yeah, that! It’s creating a divergence in terms of how we present ourselves, so we thought that we could just use different names whether we’re on stage or doin’ our regular activities!

It’s like those mangas you fuckin’ love so much. They use different names dependin’ on what they’re doin’.

Keito: Umu… I suppose that’s true, as there are mangaka that operate under different pseudonyms based on if they are working on commercial materials or R-18 material.

Though generally, fans can tell from their art style that it is the same person.

Adonis: I don’t know much about manga but. Think of it as a parent company setting up subsidiaries, where each brand markets different things dependent on what activities they engage in.

Our, so to speak, immoral, radical activities will be handled by HELLSING, and our more friendly and palatable activities handled by UNDEAD.

Only what we do and the name has changed, the members remain the same. Me, Oogami, Sakuma-senpai, and Hakaze-senpai.

Keito: So what’s the point in doing all this…?

Koga: Shut uppp, there’s a ton of reasons. I get you’re a producer ‘n all but why’s it any of your business?

Keito: ...

Koga: …It’s whatever, alright?

This is what I wanted. To be honest, the fans are a little confused but everyone else is pretty happy with it.

I feel like I can actually breathe now I’m not bein’ forced t’do stupid varieties shows ‘n shit like that.

So that means it’s a good thing— all of it is.

I said it’s fine so everyone who says otherwise should shaddup!

『♪~♪~♪』

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 1

[faithintheunknownsblog]

A/n: I have no explanation other than it just happened

Hellsing Head Canons No One Asked For

Integra: knows how to operate a hot air balloon

Alucard: Sucks a Monopoly

Walter: wears dentures

Seras: has curtain lights and will literally sit on her bed for hours doing absolutely nothing else but watching them

Pip: he isn’t the type to be a dad but he would definitely be the fun uncle

Anderson: knows the Bible word for word and can recite it without any mistakes

Maxwell: has sensitive skin and is a cry baby about it

Heinkel: also has sensitive skin and doesn’t care, their hands could be drier than the Sahara Desert and they still won’t use lotion

Yumi: loves to read and write

The Major: gets hella pussy (*plays ‘cuffing season’*)

Luke: got bullied in school by the popular girl (I’m still debating on whether he liked it or not)

Jan: acts tough but as a human couldn’t hold his own, he would run his mouth but wouldn’t fight when given the chance to

The Captain: could not pick up on flirting to save his life

Zorin: has sugar babies

Dok: has a pollen allergy

Dandy Man: is part of a pyramid scheme and always trying to get more people to join

Schrödinger: can’t climb a tree and is scared of vacuum cleaners

Rip: is also scared of vacuum cleaners

[wheregoodthingsthrive]

dont you have any new walter hcs?:)

I do! Oh, how wonderful it is for you to ask <3 I've been thinking a lot about this guy since classes have started but these trains of thought are often broken into two categories: canon-related and self-indulgence. So, I'll try to break those into the two categories here as well <3

Canon-related

Walter's skills in gun smithing is mostly self-taught and a skill he picked up after the War as it gave him something to do, especially in the 'slow season' for vampire hunting.

He has three spaces that are truly 'his': the butler's pantry, the gun shop, and his in-house room.

Butler's pantry: his office and main 'headquarters' when he's on the clock but not in direct need. It is spick and span, being the place Alucard frequents as he is not often allowed in the other two spaces. Gun shop: connected to the Hellsing military compound, the gun shop is spotless, covered in tools and half complete guns perfectly stored away. Walter runs the shop exclusively but will sometimes employ the help of Hellsing ballistic team and eventually Seras is welcomed into the shop to learn the upkeep of her own precious artillery. The shop is huge, leading to the Hellsing hangar, and is rarely dirty. Should it be, it is a tell-tale sign he's been at work for more than a few hours. In-house: Walter could have moved off-site and away from the Hellsing Estate after he graduated university but Arthur wouldn't see it. As an active member of both Hellsing's house function and vampiric division, having Walter away and not on a 24/7 function would be detrimental to the service, on both ends. His room is a chambre de bonne, hidden at the top of the estate below the attics and is the one of four staff living quarters left in the building's infrastructure. It is sparse, articulate, and has many a war decorations, uniforms, pictures, awards, degrees, and trinkets of life hidden in various spots.

Arthur has tried to get this man married a lot, failing each time.

His discovery of his ability to puppeteer people was a 'crime of passion' moment in his development of skill. Arthur was not particularly pleased about this skill and asked Walter to never use it again unless in great duress. He would hone this ability in private and refuses to disclose how.

Atop puppeteering, the wires have a broad array of funciton once he mastered them. He can pick up objects, throw things, abseiling/rappelling, climb up things, 'Spiderman' his way around, build shields, lay tripwires/traps, sew/temporarily stitch, and can be used to sense things around him when devoid of sight (vibrations).

He and Integra's favorite activity is doing Sudoku. They'd often do as many puzzles as they could while Arthur was in meetings or at Conference breakfasts.

Self-Indulgence

Walter is maternally a Seward, giving him connections to the Crew of Light and thus the van Helsing name. His mother is Seward's only daughter. It is his 'Seward blood' that allows him to command the Monofilament Wires

The Monofilament Wires were developed by both the Sewards and the van Helsings in the Amsterdam, Netherlands. The secret of their usage is maintained by the Seward line, being a sworn generation passed trick of the vampire hunting trade.

Hellsing was much smaller an organization in the 50s-60s, making Walter and Alucard the sole operatives save for a few footmen/military command and a cleanup crew - because of this, Walter had a multitude of jobs regarding Hellsing's underbelly save for just hunting.

Killing was of course Walter's primary Hellsing non-domestic function, this is a given. His other functions included forms of espionage, diplomacy errands on behalf of Arthur, and surveillance. His extracurricular activities for Hellsing were mostly to quell his boredom following the intense decrease in direct violence following WWII and the political climate of the Cold War (please ask me about my Hellsing x Cold War thoughts). His work in espionage was mostly limited to his career from 1950 to 1965, ranging from straight spying (on vampiric forces AND humans), information collection, extortion, blackmail, and collection of dirt. He'd attend parties, rub elbows with wealthy daughters or diplomats, and protect the Hellsing image by any means necessary on a political field.

He has two favorite guns from his career: the Leiden and the Pandora. Both of which he has either made or modified. Leiden is a 1948 Jungle Carbine No. 5 Mk I, dyed and buffed a matte black. Pandora is a 1968 Ruger M77 MK II .270 WIN, modified with a longer barrel and a weighted stock. He doesn't always use guns, but he tenderly loves his rifles, especially bolt action.

Thanks for tuning in to the yap session, I like this guy a lot.

[lapetitemxrt]

Dance + Drabble (first word that came to mind hope thats ok!)

"Dance? What interest could you have in dance?" Arthur Hellsing was not the most supportive surrogate parent, at least not verbally. Despite his query, he'd already found and hired dance instructors. He just needed to make a point of being a total ass about it. Walter had added the request to Arthurs daily agenda surreptitiously last week and was surprised when his request was honored. Walter, though young, was not perturbed by his words anymore. It was difficult to take the drunkard seriously. He stood at his position, behind and to the side of the man, eyes flickering to Arthur to scan his expression before he answered. "A well rounded education makes for a well rounded gentleman." It was an easy response and not wholly a lie. Walter did want to have an illustrious and thorough skillset, knowing the culture of Hellsing and it's associates. He wanted to be taken seriously. "Dancing isn't exactly an education as I'd quantify it. You sure there isn't someone you'd like to impress?" Walter was only 11 now but Arthur only knew how to relate to anyone when it came to (put gently) romantic partnership. Walter was uninterested, wholly and completely. He had enough of loving anyone, since his sister and parents were gone. Part of his brain turned off when someone even made the suggestion.

"Who is there to impress? I simply want an opportunity to learn something different. My fa-... I've heard that physical learning is just as important as academics."

He realized dance wasn't exactly the most obvious path to an exciting reputation, but his draw to it was practical. He was training to be a Hellsing operative now, and he had some large shoes to fill after the departure of his late father.

Those shoes danced.

They danced ballroom, they did the Charleston, the Foxtrot and the Tango. They danced Jitterbug and swing. They danced with him, with his mother before she died.

And they danced to the tune of his hunt. Danced to the cries of his prey. Something Walter knew little of until somewhat recently, but was wholly consumed in learning about. His father was, had been, the most prolific killer of Vampires that Hellsing had known and the dance was an important part of his own education. It had honed his reflexes and his senses to the point of being a lethal weapon in and of himself.

Arthur snorted, sprinkling ash from the edge of his cigar, and shook his head. "There's always someone to impress, Walter. Lover or Enemy, we always want them to be impressed." Ah. Perhaps Arthur wasn't as clueless as Walter thought. This rendered Walter momentarily speechless. Something stretched between them here, some nameless understanding he didn't want but was ultimately grateful for. "Either way, Sir, I feel dance will enhance my education. I appreciate your generosity with th--" "Not generosity. It's an investment." Arthur always tried to shut him down when he tried to be grateful. Walter knew better, but he smiled and nodded. "Of course, Sir. I think Dinner is nearly done, shall I check the kitchens?"

He got nothing in return but a grunt as Arthur turned his attention to a paper, which he took to mean yes. He left without further speaking, and it was clear the two of them wanted to divest from the underlying current in this conversation. They both missed his father, in whatever context Arthur could have missed him. Walter knew they would often talk and drink after his mothers death but he was sure the hookers he ordered gave him decent enough company, though he supposed not much talking happened then. In any case, Walter would begin his dancing education and pursue it with just as much enthusiasm as he had to the rest of his studies.

[tokoyamisstuff]

gn! Reader I some gore I angst I just a short lil' drabble I can be read platonic or romantic

Your betrayal happened slowly.

There was neither that one dramatic moment that revealed your true intentions, nor a complicated scheme reaching it's end. It was merely an accumulation of barely noticeable sabotages and data breaches.

Things were never supposed to end this way.

But Iscariot - no, the face of your whole church - had changed into something unrecognizeable, something so vile and malicious that your conscience couldn't possibly identify with anymore.

Each and everyone of them had long since stopped serving the true faith, let alone the word of your Lord and Savior. Instead they were twisting the religion to fit after their own sick and selfish desires, leaving a trail of suffering and carnage with no regard of the consequences.

Nonetheless, those people were your allies, friends, the closest thing to a family you might ever have. Indirectly harming them was eating you alive, and yet there was no other way to keep them from committing further sin against innocents.

It started with you secretly slipping informations to the enemy, like that one time you informed Sir Integra that the Judas Priest would invade their area in Ireland.

Anderson noticed early that there was a traitor amongst their rows, his methods of finding the leak unnecessary cruel and without method...

...not once he suspected the informant could be you, though.

At some point however you unveiled Maxwell's plans of using the mayhem caused by Millenium to purge England instead of liberating it - and much to your shock the only person you dared confiding in was already well aware.

After confronting Anderson about this insane operation without him showing any hint of hesistance or remorse, you fled and never looked back, seeking refugee at the Hellsing manor.

Even Alucard's new weapon, forged with the sole purpose to destroy the regenerating priest, had been directly built after the top secret files you had stolen for them.

Too late for any regrets now, you were already in far too deep. You always knew that shall you ever meet again, you'd inevitably find yourself at the other end of his bayonet - and you had made peace with that fact.

Everything has led you to this moment of absolution.

You had been separated from what was left of the Hellsing organization, worn out by aimlessly slaughtering yourself through both nazis and crusaders in this neverending war.

Eventually you just had to run into your former brethren - but for the Paladin himself to cross paths with you was an irony of fate only God could understand.

They say every human has a cardinal sin their soul is especially prone to, and for Anderson that sin has always been wrath.

A flash of recognition made his face drop shortly before his whole stance tensed again, expression contorting through several emotions at once.

He was oozing bloodlust from every pore, like water from the little stream near the orphanage you wished to see again so dearly. You had witnessed this state of his so often yet it had always made you feel oddly safe - but then again, it was never directed to you before.

The priest was calm, too calm for the situation at hand, but you knew him better than that: Beneathe the surface he's close to bursting from all the hatred and rage that's been rotting him from the inside like the poison it is.

He mutely, pitilessly raises his weapons as you fall to your knees in sheer exasperation, the cold stones a huge contrast to the otherwise burning city. You want to explain yourself, cling to his coat and beg his forgiveness - but at the same time you knew you had no right to.

So you decided to gift him one last, heartbroken smile before lowering your head in defeat, voice only a breathless whisper as you apologized for having caused him such trouble and pain.

You wince as you sense the momentum of his blade, but much to your surprise the blow failed to deliver. No, that wasn't right either. It hit the target it was meant to - right into the visage of a SS soldier that had lunged at you from behind, splitting his skull in two.

Anderson's judging stare never left yours as he pulled the weapon from the bloodied carcass, wiping the steel clean on his cassock. For a moment he just stands there, gears in his head visibly turning before he wrings out a shuddered exhale, shaking his head.

He walks past your frozen, trembling self until he turns around one last time, eyes softening ever so slightly. You see his mouth open and close several times in an attempt to vocalize what he had bottled up ever since you left - but even after all that happened, the fact that he missed you so excruciatingly much outweighted anything else.

Ultimately, he feels sorry for having driven you to do this, and even though he cannot forgive you he understands. Yet all he could bring himself to say is:

"Get out of my sight, apostate. Go save yourself."

[ask-the-denalis]

It is me again, you will all have to kick me out of here :p

This one is for Tanya, anyone can answer tho, how is it to live with a thousand year child? (Def not looking at any Kate :p) Just kidding here comes the real question I am a huge werewolf fan, but like real werewolf kind of creature and I have always wondered how strong they really are? You have been roaming this Earth for like a very long time and I was thinking the three of yiu had ever crossed paths with a Child of the Moon? If you did, what happened? What they really look like? Because I have in mind kind of a van hellsing werewolf kind yk more wolf-like than the old movies which held a more 'human' appearance, did they truly lost control of the beast during full moon? And if so how have they been able to hide their existence from humanity for so damn long? I mean vampires are subtle but an out of control werewolf is kind of hard to hide, especially nowadays with so much technology, which makes me think how are you and your coven dealing with that? I mean arent you kind of breaking the rules by exposing yourselves to the internet?

That... Was long I am sorry I got carried away by my curiosity... Anyway! Thank you so much for answnering, have a good day/night :D

Goodness, no! We would never do such a thing!

Has Katrina evoked this train of thought with her brazenness? If so, I sincerely apologize on her behalf. She tends to speak before her mind has had the chance to catch up...

On a brighter note: I believe that more or less answers your very first question, does it not? ;3

Now, let us address the more pressing matter...

Let me begin by confirming that my sisters and I have indeed crossed paths with these loathsome creatures. On multiple occasions at that, unfortunately...

Darling, believe me...calling them "wolves" is exceptionally far-fetched. Those are ghastly things - half human, half beast in appearance. The image painted by today´s adaptations is hardly accurate, and I sincerely hope you shall never come across one of these "children." Or multiple, for that matter...

I have searched the internet in hopes of stumbling upon a more fitting depiction, as I believe an image speaks louder than my words ever could.

This is the closest I could find:

(Granted, they may not be quite as bald, but I find the rest to be dreadfully fitting.)

Regrettably, it is not uncommon for such encounters to end fatally for our kind. These creatures possess a strength that rivals our own - few of them are needed to extinguish an army of newborns. Those of us who have survived an attack describe the wounds inflicted upon them as agonizing, with a dragging healing process.

Kate once sustained such an injury during one of our encounters with these beasts. It was the three of us against only two of them, but we had been in the middle of a hunt, blinded by bloodlust. They took advantage of our frenzied state and ambushed us.

Contrary to popular belief, they are exceptional hunters themselves, who often operate in well-organized packs. We were fortunate to have encountered only two that day.

I dread to think what might have happened, if not for Kate´s gift…

...

Forgive me. The event has left us all rather...shaken. To this day, I find it quite difficult to speak of.

...Right, let us move on, shall we?

You correctly stated that "hiding" a child of the moon is rather impossible. As a matter of fact, there have been numerous incidents in which entire communities were torn apart by their devastating raids. Word spread, naturally, revealing not only their existence to humankind but also risking the exposure of ours.

It was for this reason that the Volturi eventually intervened, hunting down their kind to near-extinction.

We have not crossed paths with a child of the moon since our near-fatal encounter centuries ago, leading us to believe that not many, if any, are left today. Nevertheless, I advise you to remain watchful and, if possible, to stay clear of sparsely populated areas. Especially at night.

As for your question about our presence on this platform-

Why...

Should I be concerned about you, love?

Yours truly, 💋

- Tanya, leader of the Denali coven

[comicaurora]

any tips on how to write a non protagonist-y protagonist? (as in, a protagonist that is not at all the leader of the team, generally isn't the most Morally Righteous, and has more lancer characteristics than protag characteristics)

I could probably give helpful thoughts if the question was more specific, but this is hella broad. The protagonist is just the character who's the central focus of the story, there's nothing inherently heroic about the role. Following an unheroic lead can be compelling for all sorts of reasons, but they're all very specific to the character and story.

Just for a quick look into the scope of this question, a few examples: Hamlet is compelling because he's a Hot Mess in a world of slightly more lukewarm messes; Chicago is compelling because every protagonist is so spectacularly awful you're rooting for their success just so you can watch them crash and burn; Death Note is compelling for similar reasons, with the added bonus of watching two terrible people pitted against each other - but while stories with protagonists that are terrible people can be fun in a "watching a trainwreck" sort of way, there are also stories with unheroic protagonists that the audience hopes become more heroic, which is the entire pull of Logan, Mandalorian season 1, the early stages of The Last Of Us, and basically everything in the "serious grumpy dad" genre where we spend some time waiting for the damaged loner to figure out he's adopted a baby.

Tons of stories have main characters that aren't the leaders of whatever team they're on, and that can be fun because it gives them a leader to follow or rebel against - Hellsing Ultimate is all about the chain of command on both the protagonist and antagonist side, and the nominal main character Alucard is a morally incomprehensible eldritch abomination who's the scariest thing in the entire show. He's fun to watch because he's a literal living nightmare and every time a bad guy looks like they've got him on the ropes he just goes "neat" and farts out a hellhound or a knife tornado or something and rips them to shreds. Then there are about a million cop shows with a protagonist who's a Loose Cannon who Don't Play By The Rules, almost always defined by their rebellion against the exasperated leader who has a duty to actually follow and enforce the law. Copaganda aside, there's a lot of ways to write a character operating under a protagonist-y but potentially unhelpful authority.

Hell, if you squint, a ton of heroic characters are ultimately motivated by entirely selfish drives - which, if unpacked, end up looking very questionable in the morals department, despite the protagonist being a broadly likable person. Last Airbender has this in spades, with Aang's entire arc taking him from the starting motivation of "my responsibility as Avatar will stop me from having a life and I don't want that so I'll run away" to "my responsibility as Avatar is at odds with my Air Nomad philosophy against taking life and I don't want that so I'll find a way to stop Firelord Ozai without killing him". His initial motivation was obviously a lot less heroic, but through the entire story Aang holds onto his personal wants and desires, which is on paper a selfish and unheroic thing for the Chosen One to do - but in the context of Avatar, a war story about a group of children saving the world, it is the ultimate victory of the story that Aang and his friends don't have to sacrifice their personal happiness to win. The fact that Aang can still be a little bit selfish means that the war didn't take everything from him, and if he'd done the "heroic" thing of selflessly sacrificing his own spiritual needs to end the war as fast as possible, from a narrative standpoint it would've been a pyrrhic victory at best, because the Fire Nation would've succeeded in destroying him.

These are all wildly distinct stories, and trying to draw a few easy tips and tricks from them would be borderline impossible, since they're all doing "unheroic protagonist" in totally different ways.