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Post-ts fem Sanji gets the long hair treatment too

I love a vain Walter.

I love a Walter obsessed with his own character and accomplishment. As a teen, it was to be perceived as an adult, as strong, capable, independent, and simply better. As a young adult, it was to be charming, effective, untouchable and a monolith of skill, it was to actively, always be better. This is where the panic of becoming asinine started. As an adult, it was perfection, never second best, go above and beyond, be posh, precise, poised, it was to never be anything but the best.

I love a Walter obsessed with his looks. Clothing pressed, never spotted with a wrinkle, impeccable posture, never stumbling. Even covered in blood or suffering an injury— there is no room for error. Loose long hair isn’t the problem here, it’s being unkept. Being perceived as beastly or anything less than something, anything akin to the vermin he kills or the unpredictable nature of Alucard. He’s better than that.

I love a Walter obsessed with coming across as normal. Sure, he has his moments where his adeptness at brutality shines through but he does it with class. He has his fun but he can always rein it in. He isn’t needlessly messy like Alucard. He isn’t troublesome like Arthur. He isn’t as careless as the average soldier. All of his missions are for a purpose, all of his kills are precise, he is not tethered to failure or irritability or barbarism. He isn’t Alucard. He’s better.

I love a Walter who never appears vain. He is the first to demean himself, the first to take a step back, the first to simply be the butler. He is grateful for his education, his skills, his position. He never turns down a helpful, gracious hand and if he does, it’s for their good. Not his. He doesn’t need their help, he’s too proud deep down. Even in age, he doesn’t need help.

I love a Walter who is vain and covers it up with humility.

rip walter you would've loved lana del rey.

the full ver of this ended up disappointing so i stopped rendering half way through as you can tell lollllll but hi i'm not dead ive been studying art stuffs.

never gonna finish this so have the drafts hhh (scrapped)

dirty old man vs the disembodied female leg apparition (hes really scared)

i like his constant smugness if not because hes just handsome but because it makes anytime he's not smug that much more. like. idk fun to see.. love drawing it

Another day another fandom another fanart

Crocodile

May I request a yandere Alexander Anderson from hellsing

Of course you can! Oneshot again since it wasn’t specified. I love Anderson and this was fun~!

I toned down the accent a bit, it’d be a bit silly otherwise, heheh…

Yandere!Alexander Anderson x Reader

But it wasn’t the church itself that made you uneasy.

It was him.

Father Anderson. The first time you saw him, he was a force of nature. Tall, broad, and commanding, his mere presence demanded attention. He was a warrior in the robes of a priest, carrying himself with a terrifying confidence, as if he had been born to walk the line between holiness and destruction. His reputation preceded him—a man who fought not just for the church, but for something deeper, something that seemed to burn within him like a holy fire. He was known for his zeal, his unyielding faith, but there was something more…something dark beneath the surface.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself under his scrutiny. It began innocently enough—small interactions, a nod in your direction as he passed by, a lingering glance during prayer. You told yourself it was just the natural wariness of a seasoned warrior-priest toward new recruits, but soon, the looks became longer, more intense. His piercing eyes, hidden behind round glasses, seemed to bore into you, as though he could see straight through to your soul.

You tried to avoid him, to keep your distance. But it was impossible. He was always there, always watching, even when you weren’t aware of it. It didn’t help that your duties often placed you within his path. Every time you felt his presence, your heart would race, a mixture of fear and something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

It was on one of these days, while cleaning the sanctuary, that you found yourself alone with him for the first time.

The church was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of your robes as you swept through the aisles. You hadn’t noticed him at first, not until you looked up and saw him standing at the far end of the room, bathed in the pale light that filtered through the stained-glass windows. His figure was imposing, even from a distance, and for a moment, you felt frozen in place, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

“New to the faith,” his voice rumbled, low and deep, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It must be overwhelming for you.”

You swallowed, your throat dry. “I’m still learning, Father,” you managed to say, forcing yourself to meet his eyes, though the weight of his stare made you feel small.

He nodded slowly, taking a step closer, and then another, his heavy boots echoing off the stone floor. “Aye, the path to redemption is long…and fraught with temptation.” His voice was strangely soft, almost tender, but there was an underlying menace to it, like a wolf cloaked in sheep’s clothing.

You nodded, unsure of what to say, and turned back to your work, hoping he would leave. But he didn’t. He moved closer still, until you could feel the heat of his body behind you, his shadow looming over you. The air felt thick with tension, a suffocating weight that pressed down on you.

“You must be vigilant, lass,” he murmured, his voice dangerously close to your ear. “The devil works in subtle ways. He seeks to corrupt, to turn the faithful away from the light.” His breath was hot against your neck, and you could feel the barely contained power radiating off him, a storm of righteous fury kept just beneath the surface.

You stepped back instinctively, creating a small but necessary distance between you. “I understand, Father,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “I will do my best to remain faithful.”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark passing through them, and for a moment, you wondered if you had offended him. But then his lips curled into a strange smile, one that sent a chill down your spine.

“Aye,” he whispered, his voice thick with a possessive undertone, “you will.”

From that moment on, his presence in your life became even more suffocating. He was everywhere, always watching, always lingering just close enough to remind you that you were never alone. In the halls of the church, during prayer, even in the dead of night when you were sure no one else was around, you could feel him. It was as though he had become your personal guardian, though his protection felt more like a prison.

There were moments when you would catch him staring at you during mass, his gaze burning into you as though he was searching for something, some flaw in your faith, some weakness he could exploit. And then there were the times when you were alone in your quarters, and you would hear the faintest creak of footsteps outside your door, or the quiet murmur of his voice in the distance, speaking words too soft for you to understand but filled with a fervor that frightened you.

It wasn’t until you found the first note that you truly began to fear him.

It had been left on your pillow, the writing rough and hurried, as though it had been scrawled in a moment of desperate passion.

*You belong to the church. You belong to God. But most of all…you belong to me.*

The words sent a wave of terror through you, but they were also strangely intimate, as though he had bared a part of his soul in those few lines. You knew who had left it, even though it was unsigned. There was no one else who would—or could—lay such a claim on you.

You tried to tell yourself it was nothing, that it was just his way of expressing his dedication to the faith, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. His obsession with you was not holy. It was something far darker, something twisted.

And then came the night when everything changed.

You had been restless, unable to sleep, your thoughts plagued by the ever-present awareness of him. You tossed and turned in your small bed, trying to shake the feeling that you were being watched. But when you opened your eyes, he was there.

Standing in the doorway, his massive form silhouetted by the dim light of the moon, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity.

“Father Anderson,” you gasped, sitting up, your heart racing.

He said nothing, just stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring the moment. You scrambled to your feet, backing away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

“You’ve come far,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “But there’s still so much to learn.”

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in an iron grip, pulling you close until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His other hand came up to cradle your face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity in his eyes.

“You were sent here for a reason,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “God brought you to me.”

Your mind raced, torn between the fear that coursed through you and the strange, forbidden thrill of his touch. You wanted to pull away, to scream, but you couldn’t. His presence overwhelmed you, consumed you.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “No one will ever take you from me.”

His grip tightened, and you knew then that you were trapped. Not by the church, not by your faith, but by him—Father Anderson, the man who had taken the vows of a priest but who had given his heart, his soul, his obsession to you.

And no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you fought, he would never let you go.

Is it okay if I request a yandere captain from hellsing

Of course, love~! I wasn’t sure what exactly you wanted, as you didn’t specify, so I went with a oneshot in the end. I hope it matches up to what you wanted!! I’ve never written for The Captain before, so forgive me

Yandere!Captain x reader

It began with his eyes.

Silent, cold, and observant, they followed you everywhere, like a ghostly presence lurking just out of reach. The Captain wasn’t the type to speak—he never did—but his actions spoke volumes, far more than words ever could.

You had known him for some time now, always at the edges of your life, a towering figure that made even the bravest hesitate in his wake. You had nowhere else to go, but a soldier friend of yours had offered to let you stay at the headquarters of Millenium. A bit strange, but it’s doable.

Then there was that man. He was a man of few expressions, yet his intensity made you feel as though you were under a microscope, every move scrutinized with an obsessive devotion that felt both unnerving and—dare you admit it?—strangely intoxicating.

The first time you had crossed paths with the Captain, you hadn’t thought much of it. He was just another soldier, yet a powerful one. Respect was practically a given. Yet, somehow, he stood out even among the top. Perhaps it was the sheer size of him—imposing and unyielding, a shadow that seemed to stretch forever. Or perhaps it was the feeling he invoked in you: a creeping chill that slid down your spine whenever he was near as if he were a wolf waiting to give chase should you decide to run. His presence was suffocating, yet you couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

As the days passed, you noticed him more and more. Standing at the far end of the room, lurking in the hallway when you turned a corner, always there, watching, waiting. At first, it seemed coincidental. How many times had you told yourself it was nothing? That he was just doing his job, a trump card keeping his watchful eye on his surroundings? But there was something deeper, something darker in the way his gaze never left you.

The Captain was not a man of simple curiosity.

It wasn’t long before the nightmares began. Dreams of being hunted, of running through endless corridors with him always a step behind, his breath hot against the back of your neck. In the dreams, you never saw his face, but you always knew it was him. You could feel his presence, that same suffocating weight, like a predator stalking its prey. A werewolf on the hunt. No matter how fast you ran, no matter how far you fled, he was always there, just out of reach, but closing in.

And when you awoke, drenched in sweat, you could feel it—the Captain. You’d sit up in your bed, trembling, only to catch a glimpse of movement outside your window. A flash of white. A fleeting shadow. You’d rush to the window, heart hammering in your chest, but there was never anyone there. Just the empty night, cold and silent.

He was tormenting you, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak out. There was a certain helplessness in the situation, as if your very being was entangled with his, as if he’d woven an invisible web around you, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t escape it.

You weren’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day, it became clear that it wasn’t just an obsession—it was something far more dangerous.

He started appearing in places he shouldn’t have been. In the shadows of your home, standing at the end of a hallway, always just on the periphery of your vision. And then came the gifts. At first, they were small—a perfectly preserved flower left on your doorstep, a delicate charm you’d admired but never mentioned aloud. You never saw him leave them, but you knew. It was his way of marking you, staking his claim in a way that was both possessive and unsettling.

But then the gifts grew darker, more disturbing. A broken mirror, the shards glistening in the moonlight. A photograph of you, taken from an angle that suggested he had been watching you while you slept. And the most chilling of all: a lock of hair that was unmistakably yours, carefully braided and tied with a red ribbon.

Your fear grew with each passing day, but so did something else—an inexplicable, unwanted attraction. It made no sense. You knew what he was, what he was capable of. You had seen the way he handled those who crossed his path, the merciless efficiency with which he carried out his duties. He was a man who lived for violence, for the thrill of the hunt, and yet…there was a part of you that couldn’t deny the pull he had over you.

It was the night he finally came to you that changed everything.

You were sitting in your room, the weight of his presence thick in the air, when you heard the faintest creak of the door. You froze, heart pounding in your chest as the shadow loomed larger, darker, swallowing the light. And then he stepped into the room, as silent as ever, his eyes glinting in the dim light. The Captain. Millenium’s trump card.

He didn’t speak—he never did—but his gaze said everything.

You should have screamed. You should have run. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Something inside you had snapped, the tension that had been building for so long finally breaking free. And instead of fleeing, you stood frozen as he approached, his towering figure casting a shadow over you.

There was a dangerous edge to his movements, a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. His hand, large and calloused, reached out and brushed against your cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle for a man who had known only violence. But the intent behind it was unmistakable—he wasn’t here to hurt you, not yet. No, he had something else in mind.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his cold gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that left you trembling. His fingers trailed down your neck, lingering over the pulse that beat frantically beneath your skin.

In that moment, you knew: there would be no escape. He had decided that you were his, and there was nothing you could do to change that. You had been caught in his web from the very beginning, and now, there was no way out.

His lips hovered near your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered a single word—one that sent chills down your spine and sealed your fate.

“Mine.”

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.

You know, it happens when you get inspired by something so chic, but sometimes you stumble, firstly because of your drawing skill, and secondly, I don’t know if this is a common phenomenon, but I have low self-esteem as an artist and I understand that the idea is bad or I don’t have the strength to just continue. But in the end, at least the sketch remained of this comic

Ahem, sorry for the long digression. In general, the idea was very simple, what do we associate with aristocracy? Social receptions, right. But, I would like to depict who and how they feel at them. Let's say, Vernal would be uncomfortable in a crowd, as would Pip, who is a mercenary and does not care about it. And Seras? I suppose she would often stick close to Alucard and repeat after him that she is an aristocrat from birth. The same with Integra, but she does not like all this, at least because she will have to change her suit for a dress and smoke less. And Walter, like an impenetrable rock, stands and smiles slyly, probably internally tired of preparing for the reception and also watching over the order and the servants.

The situation is standard and banal, and in anime there is less everyday life, but I often find it interesting to think about who would have reacted or done something in this situation 🤔

the things i would do to, for and with this man…. wow

у меня такой странный румянец

щёки горят, да?

I'm upset, the Naruto collab won't happen due to low activity(

Sketches for a deal I made

Happy new year, I hope you will be pulled out of your coffin.

« Hope everything will treat you gently, thank you my dear fandom »

Waiting for the Naruto collab to happen (in which I haven't even reached episode 100 yet)), we decided to start our own Akatsuki squad

Unfortunately, there is nothing to say about the character that was remade for this universe(

Well, except that she is from the land of water and has the ability of water and ice

Anderducky and Aluducky

A separate version of Duckycard from my bathtub Flint art and an Anderducky to match.

Silly Pip sketches

Quick sketches i make to pass the time <3 Tell me i'm not the only one who feels like buck and pip have the same vibe?

volume 1 sketches part 2

Walter doesn't like how quickly you become his priority, how hard he fell for your kind words and actions to the point where he didn't think about the possibility of being the one to kill Alucard off nor kept himself dedicated to his chores as the Hellsing butler, the thought of you fills his mind too much

As long as you have some affiliations with the Hellsing organization Walter will get to see you as much as he likes, best believe your going to be approached by him a lot with some excuse or another revolving around his job

Walters quite loyal and he expects the same from you, not that he would even make you endure a impactful punishment rather he would make you watch who ever dared to get in between your relationship together become sliced through with his wires

His protective trait severely out shines any other yandere behavior he may have, surely it's due to the fact he's watch dozens die in his line of work and with you kept secure right beside him walter knows he must keep you safe from all threats

Unless there's an attack on the Hellsing manor Walter keeps you comfortable in his room, warm with everything you could want provided. The moment he deems there's a some sort of creature that could out wit him your going into the basement, who knows maybe you'll even get to meet Alucard while hiding away for your safety

Walter will do anything for you, dedicated to a point where he doesn't even bother with Alucard anymore, instead Walter fights to the last nail for his darling, someone who he thinks is worth much more to die for

This man is more obsessive over all, you'd imagine he'd be just as protective yet if he knows you from the same line of work Pip wouldn't dare underestimate your skills, certainly you can take care of yourself quite well can't you? After all your both being paid to be the guards of the Hellsing Manor

He's the type of person who you assume to be a fuck boy at first yet at time goes on and he persistently bothers you to gain your attention you'll realize just how wholehearted this man can be. Yes Pip constantly makes inappropriate comments about just how lovely it must feel to have your body pressed against his own in more suggestive situations but nevertheless he does prioritize your happiness and safety

This man listens to everything you have to say more than most people would, keeping in mind all the topics you'd like to talk about and any possible gift ideas he knows you'll adore, he's also a great voice of reason if you look past the shitty jokes he tries to make

Speaking of joke Pips ultimate goal for each day is to have you smile because of him, Whether it's because of the many inappropriate comments that weigh down on your shoulders as he teases you getting up in your personal space, the ways he might accidentally embarrass himself, or just a light hearted joke in general he'll always feel pride grow in his chest that he got such a sweet thing to laugh so effortlessly

Needless to say Pip makes constant threats towards those that dare to actually approach you. His baby isn't something to fight over you belong to him, there's no friendly competition between comrade soldiers he will beat them with the end of his gun until it's clear to anyone dumb enough to test him that you belong to him only

Hellsing Masterlist

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Happy Halloween! Hellsing Alucard with siren reader?

As all powerful as Alucard is there's one thing that can be easily held against him, large bodies of water, therefore you technically hold a higher ground than the unkillable vampire king

Though after years of perfecting his strength and abilities he regrets to inform you that those songs of yours don't do anything to him, at most it's almost the same as a regular human calling his name. Don't get him wrong he isn't going to turn you into chum, rather he'd like to befriend other creatures when given the chance, especially when he's stuck on a boat radiating death off of every inch with no way of getting back to land himself

You're a rather rare specimen after all, humans rarely ever see you and he's never favored the ocean particularly, it's nice to interact with you. To say he's learned and made acquaintances with a siren is something both himself and integra will certainly be proud for, and you'll see him coming back to the sea he's weak against just to see you once more