Sliding into that ill-defined span of time after you post something when you know that it’s gotten about as much love as it’s gonna get, leaving you vaguely disappointed and wholly directionless.
A bitch been listening to a lil to much lana del rey, now you getting my oc and the most under-rated character in this godforsaken anime-
here's a controversial take: i think shane madej would probably be really fun to meet up with over coffee, but would be a terrible dinner party guest. ryan bergara wouldnt be so fun for coffee but he'd be the life of the party at dinner.
Artober 22: Pip from the Halloween Tree
I love the Halloween Tree movie! Just a wonderful celebration of Halloween and friendship, it's always on my movie roster during Spooky Season.
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pip not investigate flower, why asking?
I ordered some squish molds for dice while acquiring more resin.
Hands down most excited for the pip die mold. That means I can make a custom die for Lux.
😂 my housemates (also a 100% accurate representation of their personalities)
Quick, what animal do you think this is
Me finding out that if I buy all the Halloween slimes it’ll be $239.60
A lot of my youtooz plushies are starting to arrive.
I am only now realising how many I have bought.
And that 1ft plushies are indeed quite big.
h e l p
chocomimis arrived a few days ago *____* they will take me so long to read but i am determined
i was recently going through some old files, trying to clear out space on my computer when i cam across all these old fan skins i had designed for pcotr. i guess i never realized how much i actually liked a lot of these lol
all art is from around 2019
FUCK ME I FORGOT TO TAKE MY MEDS TODAY D:
i think my brother had my copy of bw last i checked. he’s team snivy for those who care
Nobody’s thought of this but I might as well try and start this. This may be triggering to some because of trauma. This is gonna be very long too, buckle in. I was largely inspired by an artist who is thinking about making a Hellsing AU with Vikings and some personal fanfic ideas of my own before that. So in this long post it will mostly talk about the Reader character but it’s a setup for the main story line for this.
Character intro and a foreword: I know that ladies will probably feel strange being put in a man’s position (I think, IDK, maybe for some). Yet I’m doing it this way because as a man myself, I’m just trying it as a first attempt and I’m not one who really can see through a woman’s perspective, yet at least. Also I’ve been really interested in writing stuff for Hellsing. So I’m flexing my wings and getting ready for takeoff because I’ve studied the characters for long enough to get a good idea as to how they operate, though writing them will be tough.
You are Y/N. He was an angry young man in his youth due to a bad home life and a terrible father. There were even had the scars to prove such a thing. Bullies would try to harm the boy constantly but with age he grew taller and became a less attractive target for most lowly bullies yet the ones not so deterred still harassed Y/N. He studies history, religion, and the occult. Y/N’s father and mother would not know this, as he felt he would be punished for upsetting his religious and violent father by learning something that they might not like. It’s tough to not tell them but it’s all for the best. It’s hard enough that his mother almost has a sort of Stockholm Syndrome way of trying to deal with him. One day you meet people on the drive back to school after forgetting something when he turned 16.
Y/N found a group of people who shared some common interests. They were a Viking/Early Medieval reenactment group that also trained with sharp weapons. Y/N met them in a camp that was like a village, with a big, longhouse built like a cabin that had a grand hall in it with Viking décor in it. There was a man in scale armor sitting on a throne at the end of the hall. It was their chieftain. The chieftain was a tad bit taller than Him and had long, grey hair with a braided beard with rune beads. His name is Thrandr Ingjaldsson. He welcomes Y/N in and talks with him about what they are. They were a community that came together to find peace to atone for their pasts, or something similar to that. He says that there are a lot of troubled youth and former convicts in this or people looking for more in life than a rat race. He offers you a place there. It looked daunting to decide on.
Y/N think about it but remember what your dad would do to either you or mom if he found out, so he tells him outright what could happen. His eyes darken for a second, as if he knows exactly what this young man is going through, “You don’t have to be official but you can come around whenever you can and escape for a while. Yet I’ll leave you with the choice.” Y/N thinks about it for a few seconds, “Yes, I’ll do that. But you’ll have to provide me some stuff and give me something else as a safety net in case my dad finds out.”. He nods, “It will be done. Welcome to our society.” Y/N shake his hand and realize how much this will change the young man and for once, he liked the idea of that. When he gets back home his father noticed that he was late, “Where’ve you been?” He asks, in a low voice, already having a tested patience as he set his King James bible down. “School, no where else.”, his son answered coldly. “You shouldn’t talk to your father that way, boy. It’s a sin to do so, and so is lying.” He unbuckles his belt and wraps it around his hand. “No lie was told, dad. Put your belt away.” Y/N say, hoping he would just drop it so you wouldn’t have to give a bloody nose and get worse in return. “You should hope that I don’t find out if you lied.” He gets up and goes to his room and slams the door shut. The boy looks at his mother, who was sitting on the couch with her hand on her arm, looking down in shame. He looked at her and quietly said, “Mom, why are you even doing this? Don’t you hate being with him?” Y/N has gotten braver over the years yet he can’t fight back quite yet but his mom is still timid. “I don’t know what you mean, Y/N. Maybe you should stop trying to fight him.” She said, almost as quiet as a church mouse. Her son sighs loudly, “I’m going to bed, wake me up when you get brave enough to divorce his ass.” His mother freezes and goes rigid, yet she says nothing, “I love you son... just know that.” Y/N stopped and almost breakdown, if only she could step up and fight back. You go to sleep, crying, hoping that this world wasn’t full of book thumping assholes and small frightened people who were unable to rise up and do the right thing.
Y/N trains for a year or two and fights in several skirmishes, battles, and being a fierce and skilled warrior, earning him the title “Berserker”. With time he gets stronger and better at fighting. In this time Y/N was still in highschool, yet things started to change and he began to fight his bullies, sometimes when he’s outnumbered 4:1 or more. The school almost suspended him but thanks to Y/N’s smart maneuvering on provoking the bullies in a way that would make Niccolo Machiavelli blush. Y/N gets off the hook and starts excelling at school. Yet, Y/N’s father notices when come home, and Y/N accidentally bring home his sparring sword, damn. His mother looks frightened and backs into a corner while shrinking down, seeing her husband’s temper flaring. “Where did you get that?!” He roars, setting down his whisky bottle and rising up, his priest outfit askew and messy, he was pissed beyond belief. Y/N was a bit scared... yet something beneath that was a fire in his belly, trying to become a wildfire but needed a bigger spark. Words suddenly pour from the boy’s mouth like a dragon’s fire, “What does it look like to you? Moses’ staff?” Y/N’s father eyes widen and zoom in, “It’s a sword... you dare bring unholy magic here, you cretin?”. Y/N’s blood is boiling and he begins to see red, “Yeah, no shit it’s a fucking sword. Why are all you Jehovah’s witnesses types so fucking scared of everything?”
His jaw goes slack his veins bulging from his neck, “What did you say to me?” Mom looks away and covers her ears. A crimson mist takes Y/N’s vision again, “You heard me you failure of a priest, I said, ‘why are you all cowards?’ but let me guess, you’re gonna hurt mom again after you hurt me right? I wouldn’t be surprised for an evil priest who can’t even stop himself from hurting his own flock.” His father screams, then grabs the neck of the bottle and charges at his own son.
The impact was horrible, it even cut over the lower part of his forehead, missing his eye and goes down below his cheek under the eye. But rage had dulled his senses. He heard something like the times he had screamed with his comrades while charging another shield wall or getting involved in an ambush and fighting with your all. His vision had been completely overtaken by a red wall of rage. His fists connect with a target, yet he’s taken to the ground and cut again. He still hits the enraged priest above with all his might, feeling that he broke his father’s nose and knocked a few teeth out. But something else amazing happens, he hears another scream, it’s a high pitched one but it sounds... like a warrioress. Then he hears a thud, his father yelps but another sound is heard, like someone’s skull being cracked open. His vision returns to normal and he sees his mother standing over his father with the sparring sword in her hands, almost as if the handle was too big for her, her hair undone and shagged out, breathing heavily, and grunting like a bear almost. She growled in a fury, “You’ve hurt my boy for the last fucking time!” She brings it down onto her foe’s back, cracking a rib, “Lydia stop!” He begs to Y/N’s mom with a hand on the bleeding wound on his head, hoping he could drop their guard. She breaks his hand instead, ”FUCK YOU!” She screamed, then broke his other hand. Y/N looks on, almost amazed that his mother had hid this side of her from everyone. His father is screaming in pain on the floor, writhing in pain. Y/N also notices his leg was a little fucked up now too.
His mother turns to her son, concern etched on her face. “Are you ok?” She grunts. “Mom... holy fuck.” Y/N says, impressed with her sudden confidence. “I am... I just have a cut or two on me.” Y/N says, like it wasn’t a big deal. The boy also feels his left cheek, feeling two fresh cuts at the area of his jaw that rose up to his cheek. “You tried to kill my only son! I can’t wait for them to lock you up.” She said, more calmly. “Mom, move.” She looks at you, slightly flummoxed. The brave boy she’s raised steps up to his failure of a father and gets the bloodied man up on his back, “You know... there’s such a thing as eye to eye right?” His eyes widen at his son’s implication, “NO... NOOO!” He squirms but his son grabs his face and jams his thumbs into his father’s eyes, eliciting a scream from the man below him.
After the short beating and torture session his mom called the cops and... casually omitted some of the details that may have not cast her and her son in a less favorable light, also hiding the sparring sword in your closet for good measure. The cops gave the two abuse survivors hot cocoa and blankets to wrap up in after they treated Y/N’s wounds. A cop looks at you intently, “Hey kid, you look like you’ve been through hell.”
“No shit.” The cop and your mom laughed. “I’m glad it’s almost over though.”
The trial was quick and the church his father was the priest shunned his mother and Y/N. Good riddance though. Suddenly he hears cops trying to shoo people away but Y/N looks and sees something. “Let us through, we know Y/N!” It was your chieftain. “Let him through! I know him.” Y/N shouts, somewhat scaring the policemen and they let the tall chieftain in, you meet his height, eye to eye. “By the Gods, what happened to you?” He looked bewildered. Y/N sees your other friends, who all look at you in horror and concern.
“My dad.” Y/N retorts coolly. “He finally found out where I was at all these years.”
His mother, whilst being fed up with his father being so abusive and his final freak out, also decided to get a divorce soon after and Y/N lives with his mother, who actually starts to improve and learn to be less afraid and more outgoing. Also given security by the following lawsuit from the church and managing to shut it down from a lack of money that was now in Y/N’s mother and his pockets Hell she even starts to make more friends. For once, Y/N can smile without faking it and even sleeping easier. Then graduation finally comes, no more bullies to intimidate into leaving him alone and stop from harassing others, no more assignments, no grades to worry about, for now, he was free. College was far off too. Yet there was still so much to do before that.
Ambition drives Y/N forward to do something and get more involved in the group he’s in and even start exploring more possibilities. It was time for him to fully join the reenactment group and get his own equipment. Y/N’s mother and him sit down and talk about this. She’s a bit concerned that you kept this as a bit of a secret but ultimately allows you to anyways. She’s changed so much, and for the better too. The job Y/N had allowed him to save up enough money for college and on his 19th birthday, he’d grown into a giant of a man and his hair had become long and he’d even grew himself a beard. This time he celebrated his birthday with his friends and his mother finally met them in their most comfortable environment, at their camp. She finally learns why he kept it a secret. It was something Y/N’s father would’ve probably beat him or her due to the fact he was finally wrestling away his spirit from his father and she possibly would not have gone this far.
But one thing still concerned many. Rumors came from the eastern seaboard that a mysterious terror group from England during the London Conflagration and had invaded the eastern United States and even broke into Western Canada. Though it’s far away and still has yet to be seen, he dismisses it, thinking it to be a conspiracy theory or just a story to scare idiots like bed time stories people would tell their kids. Then get to the reenacting group of his friends and see that they’ve set up a surprise party... like it’s a right of passage. They lead Y/N, blind folded as well, into the grand hall of the longhouse and seat him at the head of the table and take the blind fold off. “Only chieftains sat at these,” you think to yourself, knowing what this meant. His friends come out with items and present him the items.
They help Y/N get some battle ready armor and weapons for this such as, a nasal helmet, a strong and well made chainmail hauberk that had short sleeves and reached down to your knees, a thick gambeson to go under the chainmail, then metal vambraces and greaves, and then you’re provided with a dane axe as well. Y/N intensely spars with them and soon enough they begin to induct Y/N into the group fully and reveal something awesome.
They have a few Drakkar longships ready to sail to Canada from the Columbia river that borders Washington and Oregon. Your heart almost stops when they grab something wrapped up in a bear pelt and hand it to the chieftain. Which he hands to Y/N after loudly reciting a skaldic poem. “Open it Y/N, you’ve come so far and we were all so proud that we came together and made this for you.” He said, smiling proudly.
He unraveled it and see something that almost brings a tear to your eye. It had a tunic with embroidered cuffs and skirt, a bronze arm band, and one golden oath ring with runes on it, and a statue of a strong, burly man wielding a small handled hammer that had a large hammer head and was on a chariot. But the last two weapons are what made his heart flutter. A gleaming one handed sword with its broad blade with a spatulated tip with a wide fuller and a hilt with gold inlaying that forms small crosses and a world serpent, in the middle of the pommel on one side and on the other it has what seems to be a golden depiction of a one eyed man with a long beard and two ravens on his shoulders presenting a sword and shield while standing in front of an opening double door entrance. with a wide d-shaped pommel to push his pinky into for leverage and powerful strikes. The scabbard is somewhat plain but has a long serpent etched into the leather in a Norse art style. He also find a longer Seax knife that has a broken back profile with a sharp point and runes on the spine of the blade.
Y/N had never felt so proud or had been granted such a privilege and he sees his mother, looking at him surrounded by the friends that stuck by him and smiled, trying to hold back tears, just so happy to see her son finally showing the best side of himself. Y/N motions her to come close. She does come close and embraces his wide waist and rests the side of here head against his stomach, “You’ve grown up so fast...” She sniffles, trying to hold composure. He has a hard time trying to contain himself too, “I know... we don’t have to worry about so much. We’re free now.” Y/N says, his voice almost breaking. She looks up at her son again, “We’ll talk about the trip to Canada later but let’s just be happy and celebrate right now.” The boy now turned man nodded and began partying with the others as they give him the rank of Hersir, a commander of 60-100 warriors. and present him his soldiers, many being people of similar background and You establish ways of communication like walkie talkies and phones. This was going to be in remote places in Canada after all.
Y/N’s mother somewhat has qualms about it. Yet, knowing she didn’t want you to feel held down, she lets him go and fly from her nest. Though they would see each other again.
You drive with her to the docks near Portland and look on at the large majestic, ice-capped mountain just outside of the camp, which has become a permanent settlement. As you board the slender, long vessel. His mother grabs his hand and squeezed it three times, meaning, “I love you.”. These are words that the young berserker rarely heard. Y/N hugs her, “It’ll be a short trip, mom. I promise. I’ll be back before you can miss me.” and gets on the ship, standing on the side of it and looking on to the horizon where the mountains and curve of the river banks leads to his first adventure. His mother waves him off and he does the same, seeing her slowly become smaller and smaller on the horizon as his crew rows onward, to the lands afar in Canada.
He turns to the opposite horizon and the boat leans as he stands on the edge and feels the wind in his hair and face, seeing the tall mountains that sit far towards a the sides of the river. He’s never felt so small in his life, despite being a giant. Y/N somewhat finds this to be almost frightening, considering he’s never been too far from home in your life but this time his life would be changing again. His crew look at him with a knowing expression, as if they were happy to see that their newest commander finally joined them on their journeys.
But far away in Hellsing manor, all was not good, in fact it was quite depressing.
For Seras and Pip, on the other hand, there was no good change coming for them, it seemed.
This would still be difficult with how Seras had seen her master disappear only two weeks ago. She’s rather irritable but seems to be comforted by Pip every night, reassuring her that things will get better and that Alucard will come back. It gives her hope and in a way, she still has Pip as her lover, yet there is still a small, yet deep hole in her heart. Pip feels this way too. One of the nights in the three weeks after that fateful night Integra orders the Draculina and her familiar to get ready to go to Canada for a mission that will last for a few months and kill all threats there that fled England after London had burned. Integra would even go as well. Seras then sat at the front of her desk and Pip had manifested, leaning against the wall, listening to her debriefing of what they were going to do, “There’s been reports of millennium collaborators and other covens of weaker vampires that have worked together and fled to Canada once the British military fully mobilized.” Integra took a puff of her cigar, then breathed out.
“I imagine this could be a very long mission but you’re powerful enough to fight them without too many problems. A plane will be ready for us to fly and reach Toronto by tomorrow, so pack your coffin up in the early morning. You’ll be carried to the jet by 10:00 AM sharp, so don’t wake up and open your coffin while they carry you.” Pip gave an uncomfortable look, still getting used to his new status as a familiar and hoping that he wouldn’t panic when that happened. Seras seemed to notice this and looked into his eyes, “We’ll do that and since it’s near winter it should be rather cloudy out there.” The familiar seemed somewhat comforted. “Indeed, I’d get going on that packing,” Integra stated, sounding a bit sad in, “And Seras,”
Her final trump card look at the iron maiden of Hellsing, “If you need to say anything, then let me know.”
Seras nodded, “If I need to, I will.” Pip goes back into Seras and they leave to get ready, leaving Integra to her devices once more. They all had hoped that something would break this metaphorical overcast of uncertainty.