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thebiscuiteternal · 4 months ago

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I posted ancient fanart, now time for an ancient fic. I wrote this one in... hell, I'm not even sure. Before 2008 at least.

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, internal ableism, the constant feeling of the sword hanging over your head

----------------

He'd always heard that the closer you were shoved to death, the sharper everything in that moment seemed, but he'd never really put any stock in it. But now, as he stared vacantly up at the ceiling of the hospital room, he was rethinking that disbelief.

The heat of the explosion shockwave, the wood and glass burrowing into his back as he hit the window, the sense of knowing he was going to die as he hit the ground and felt bone snap and muscle tear in a blinding flash of agony.

A sudden sharp twinge of pain between his shoulderblades made him want so badly to roll over onto his side, but the casts and bars around and through almost all of his body were having none of it.

He hadn't seen anyone but doctors and nurses since he'd woken up six hours previous, and, to his annoyance, they had no interest in telling him a damn thing other than it had been almost a month since he'd been brought in. It wasn't a bad thing for him to want to know how serious the damage was, especially since-

-no, he wasn't going to think about that. Or so he told himself. Despite his efforts at forcing down the voices that brushed his semi-conscious memories, they insisted on being heard again.

He's as good as dead. Just leave him.

Iscariot didn't believe in no man left behind. He'd known that since the day he took his vows to join the order. But still, the memory made something in his chest constrict, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to keep his breathing even. The slower and more shallow, the less it hurt. Morphine could only do so much.

He'd just recovered control of his nerves when the click of the door opening made him glance over, expecting another nurse, and he blinked in surprise when Father Renaldo poked his head in. "Ah, you're still awake. They finally told me it was alright to come in. How are you feeling?"

Only the knowledge that it would cause unimaginable pain kept him from snorting at the obviousness of the question. "Have they given you any details?" he finally managed, voice more hollow and weak than he would have liked. And the uncomfortable fidget the older man made was a sign that he would like the answer even less.

"Well… it's quite the laundry list, my boy. Concussion, broken collarbone, four broken ribs… Right elbow's cracked, left forearm's broken. Various bruises and contusions, left leg broken in three places…"

There was something else, and they both knew he was skirting. "Anything more?"

Renaldo took a deep breath, and a wash of fear went through him. "I'm sorry, Enrico," the man mumbled, then quietly left.

---

Shattered vertebrae and a severed spinal cord. He stared silently as the doctor finally gave him the truth that Renaldo hadn't been able to bring himself to say.

"Meaning-?" he couldn't help asking after swallowing back the sudden dry feeling in his mouth.

"There are therapy options, of course, and we could try surgery if you wish, but it's very likely that you won't be able to use your legs for the rest of your life."

He felt his stomach drop as the doctor got up from his seat and left, and he suddenly wanted to throw up.

Paralysis.

God, was there ever any more obvious death sentence? Biting his lip and covering his eyes with his good hand, he tried to pretend he couldn't hear the familiar, if muffled, voices outside his door.

"Have you gone soft? He's a liability now, we can't keep him. Especially not in that position."

"I know that, Alex, but we have no choice at the moment. No one was expecting this, and we don't have anyone trained enough to replace him."

Now he really was going to throw up.

---

Everyone knew their days were numbered when they went into the order. After all, there was no such thing as demotion or resignation in Iscariot. You either lived, died, or someone else chose which one for you. And now the choice was up to everyone else and how long he was useful.

A painfully sobering thought when he'd spent the majority of his life trying to wrest control of it away from others.

Sighing, Enrico opened one of the many folders he'd been brought and started on yet another sheaf of paperwork.

When he thought about it, really, he probably had a few months at the most. For all Renaldo had talked about training, making assignments and filling out forms wasn't that hard.

He'd probably be dead within the year, and someone else would be doing this.

That didn't mean he had to give them additional reason to kill him sooner, though. Despite the protests of the therapists and his own body, he was getting to a point that he could be mostly self-sufficient. With any luck, he wouldn't have to ask for any special modifications at all, although making do would be considerably difficult.

Just the thought of having to sleep in his old bed alone made his spine –what he could feel of it- ache, and he inwardly swore about the common habit of higher beds before turning his attention back to the papers in his lap.

Right, time to stop thinking too much. Back to work.

As he was working on the last authorization notice –and trying desperately not to fall asleep in the middle of it- he glanced up as voices started up –as usual- outside the door. But this time, the conversation was a little more interesting than talk of medications.

“Well, Father, it looks like he’ll be ready to leave today. I have to admit, he’s been quite the surprise. It’s not often we get someone so gung-ho about therapy so soon after their accident.”

“He’s always been headstrong.”

He inwardly bristled at the tone and bit his tongue to keep from muttering something particularly insulting about Anderson’s heritage. Or at least more insulting than what people said about his own. Whether the man heard it or not, it wouldn’t exactly go far towards his inner resolution to earn temporary respite from his execution through good behavior.

Forcing himself to keep quiet, he went back to work, and was finishing the last page when the man came in.

“Ready to go?”

“Sure,” he replied, matching the lack of emotion as he closed the folder and put it on the stack, then swatted off the cursory attempt to help him as he wrestled himself into the wheelchair. It hurt, and he was exhausted by the effort, but he reminded himself that the less he asked for help, the less nuisance he’d be.

And was that the barest hint of approval he saw on his former mentor’s face?

Probably his imagination, but it made him feel better nonetheless.

---

“Are the itineraries ready, sir?”

“There aren’t any.”

Renaldo glanced up, a slight note of surprise in his expression. “Might I ask why?”

“Because they’re useless,” Enrico replied, tone a little more exasperated than the carefully cultivated vacancy that had been in place over the last months. “I can give them all the directions I want, and the papers will have been thrown away before they even leave the building. It’s less a waste of my time just to point them in the right direction, let them do what they please, and just clean up the mess afterwards, considering it seems that’s all I spend my time doing anyway.”

He briefly regretted the brief outburst when the man arched an eyebrow at him, but the only response was a slight pat to the shoulder. “I understand, sir. Do you want me to handle the debriefing today?”

“No… I’ll do it.”

So he’d said, but as he pushed himself down the hall, he felt physically and emotionally drained.

While forcing himself to stop thinking –as much as he could, anyway- about when the proverbial axe would fall had helped, other worries and realizations had risen up to take its place.

Enrico spent more time these days than he would have liked remembering the man he’d taken this position from in the traditional way. How he’d been smiling as he bled to death.

Was it because the old man had finally been burned out by the same lessons that were being learned now?

Like the fact that Iscariot neither needed, nor wanted a leader, just someone to handle the fallout.

Or the fact that agents only behaved once you’d broken down and did things their way.

He wished his mind hadn’t gone that route, because then it followed that line of thinking to Anderson. The man had been considerably less of a stubborn ass since he’d gotten out of the hospital.

Since he’d stopped trying to take control.

He couldn’t help a bitter little chuckle, but didn’t want to keep going on that train of thought. Shaking his head a little, he forced himself to continue on his way down the hall.

---

His nerves prickled just before he felt the blade at his throat, and he barely lifted his head. “I’m assuming you’ve found a replacement.”

They both knew it wasn’t a question, but an answer –question- came anyway in the form of a small nick of pain and Anderson’s familiar rumble. “You knew this was coming?”

Despite himself, Enrico laughed, the sound hollow in his own ears. “Don't act so surprised. I’ve known since you told the other agents to leave me behind at the church, so I suppose it’s fitting that they picked you to finish the job.”

There was a huff from behind him, and the blade vanished as he looked over his shoulder then turned the chair, unable to keep himself from inwardly being amused at the expression on his caretaker his mentor the other priest's face. “What’s wrong? Don’t want to kill me now that you know I’ve been preparing myself for it?”

“I don’t want to kill you at all.”

“Don’t lie to me now, Father. You were the one who was so eager to get rid of the liability to the organization.”

“It’s because you’re a liability that-“

“What?” he asked when Anderson cut himself off mid-snap and turned away.

As always.

A small spark of anger rose in his chest, and he couldn’t resist throwing the man’s words from months before back at him, goading him. “Have you gone soft? Can’t kill me now that I’m not screaming back at you at every opportunity? Now that I’ve learned to just give in?”

The look that got was mixed irritation and pity and something he couldn’t identify, and the older man crouched in front of him, touching his cheek with the same almost -not quite- affection that had been there when he was small and vanished as he got older. “Is that what you think I’ve been trying to teach you?”

His insides went cold for some reason he couldn’t explain, and he suddenly wished he could squirm away. “Isn’t it? You were always such a pain until I stopped fighting you and always talking about how I had no right to be angry at-“

“I never said you had no right to be angry at your parents,” Anderson chided, leaving him suddenly feeling uneasy and unbalanced and confused as though he were six again. “Anyone who was abandoned as you are would feel angry. I told you that you couldn’t stay angry at the-“

“It’s the same thing!”

There was a small ringing noise as the bayonet hit the floor, and hands squeezed his shoulders. “It’s not. Enrico, I wanted you to learn to grow past your rage. To be something that wouldn’t require it to sustain you.” He pulled away and straightened. “You never should have been in Iscariot in the first place, because you didn’t have the right reasons for it.”

“Then why let me get this far? If you never wanted to let me in this position, or be here at all, why didn’t you just kill me in the trials. It would have been easy for you.”

“Maybe physically.” There was that look again, the one that he wasn’t sure what it meant. “I never enjoy having to kill someone I raised. And I still hoped that one day, you would finally get it. That it wouldn’t come to the point that you would be a danger to the organization.”

“I wasn-“

“You were.” The certainty in Anderson's voice stung. “All that ambition and rage, eventually it would have caused more problems than you were worth. The signs were all there.”

And then the incident. And then he’d been broken. So many ‘and thens’ that set up what he was now, which was apparently what Anderson had wanted to be, even if not for the reasons he’d thought.

He swallowed past the knot that had formed in his throat. “But it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to kill me now anyway. There’s no such thing as resignation, remember?”

“I know.”

But Anderson didn’t pick up the bayonet he'd dropped, and Enrico made a noise of surprised confusion as he was lifted out of the wheelchair instead. “What are you-“

“Hush.”

Startled into silence, he bit his lip, and wondered where they were going as Anderson carried him down the hall.

---

This hadn’t been planned, he reminded himself as he looked about the tiny bedroom apartment, and that fact somewhat impressed him.

In just a few short days, Renaldo had gotten him declared dead with no body or blood to prove it, and his replacement had been instated with no problems at all. In less than that, Heinkel had found this little apartment and arranged for its rent and utilities to be covered before Anderson had even brought him here.

He would be earning them, of course. Renaldo’s mind was still sharp, but his eyes were continually going, and who better to read important documents to him than someone who had experience and nothing better to do?

He wouldn’t be allowed to leave the apartment either, to keep his continued existence hidden, but what reason did he have to?

He could do this, he told himself. A quiet little life was better than no life at all, right? He’d been expecting to have his throat slit and his body to be left for the cleanup crew, so this wasn’t so bad… right?

Pushing himself over to the window, he peered out.

At least the view was nice…

A hand settled at the back of his neck, and he glanced up at Anderson before basking in the reassuring squeeze.

In a twisted sort of way, he’d finally gotten the two things he wanted the most, a family and the approval of his mentor.

He could be content with the way everything else had turned out.

Really.

He just had to keep reminding himself of that when the walls of the apartment seemed far too close.

#hellsing #organization xiii #hellsing iscariot #father alexander anderson #father enrico maxwell #father renaldo #fanfic #alternate timeline

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tokoyamisstuff · 2 months ago

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Rapture

Alexander Anderson x f! Reader | 1,5k. words | no warnings | not proofread

lmaoo I just needed to drabble this, but I made her a tiny bit more assertive can't be worse than the canon comedic moments

"Wait, Anderson! Your presence is enough!" Maxwell tries appealing to the paladin's common sense, but to no avail. He simply loses control at the sight of his mortal foe whenever those two clash.

The same goes for the head of the Hellsing Organization, only able to watch as both Alucard and Anderson draw their weapons, their manic laughter filling the Imperial War Museum.

As both masters were unable to keep those two behemoths from their imminent confrontation, suddenly a third party emerges from the shadows of a nearby hallway.

"Stop this at once!" you scream at the top of your lungs, standing in between the no-life-king and the holy knight. Disregarding the former, you turn towards Anderson, a warning finger poking his chest. "What in the Lord's name do you think you're doing?!"

The man immediately pulls you into his arms, your much smaller form almost disappearing under his overcoat. "And whit aboot ye? Reckless thing, dae ye hae a deathwish?"

Anderson glares over to his opponent, well aware he cannot fight while keeping you safe at the same time. "Huh?" You point over your shoulder to the vampire that was already lowering his weapons, observing you with an intent fascination. "What satisfaction would it bring to shoot an unarmed woman?"

It might sound naive, but as your sworn worthy enemies, they surely had the same sense of honor that was driving Iscariot as well. "This is no place to fight" you reprimand both of them, "There's civilians here!"

"We're oan protestant groond, I coidnae care less abo-" He's cut off by your angered expression, the imposing man rendered speechless just like that. "...fine" he sighs in defeat, "Wud be a waste destroyin' this braw art, ah guess."

Eventually he puts the bayonets away, turning to Alucard with a sombre look. "But this isnae ower yet. Consider it a delay o' yer fate."

Maxwell tries to take over the conversation again, still sweating bullets from the tension as he addresses Sir Hellsing. "Seems we both have troublesome subordinates, right?"

You loudly interrupt him, much to the amusement of the British attendees. "You're one to talk! You're not an ounce better!" Being irritated enough that he'd bring Anderson here for such trivialities, you pinch his ear like he was some kind of unruly child - well, to your defense, you practically raised him. "Calling this lady such filthy names...you better apologize!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am..." You nod along with a pleased smile as Enrico uttered some half-hearted excuse to the woman and her squad, then dropping a curtsey yourself. "I too have to apologize, on behalf of the bishop and my husband."

Great. Now his weakness has been exposed, and so casually at that. Anderson doesn't expect them to use you against him, they're different from the disgraceful vermin he usually fights after all. But still...

Everyone's face drops at your subtle disclosure. While Integra's face contorts in disgust more than anything, her hitman breaks out in boisterous laughter. A shiteating grin decorates his face as he sneers "Oh, it warms this cold, dead heart of mine to learn that you're just as much of a hypocryte as the rest of the Vatican, Father Anderson."

God's assassin bares his teeth, protectively wrapping his arm around your body and huddling you against his chest. "Shut it! As if ah'd gie a damn whit a vile abomination like ye thinks o' me." You were sligthly taken aback by his unusual public display of affection, but too pleasantly surprised to object.

"That's his wife?" Alucard's little fledgeling Seras was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape as she inspected you from a safe distance. Ever since she got a taste of his viciousness during their first meeting, she's horrified of the mad cleric - so this revelation made her brain hurt. "But she's so...normal?"

"Haha, thank you!" You try to wriggle out of your lover's grip, but he only tightens the embrace. "You're pretty cute too...for a monster, I mean."

"Stop sweet-talkin' the enemy!" Anderson huffs aggravated, making you snort a laugh. "Relax, darlin'."

"Are- are you a vampire-hunter as well?" she inquires, still visibly confused and you're amused at her bewilderment. "No no, I'm merely a supervisor at Anderson's orphanage."

"His what?!" The demonspawn seemed so overwhelmed, she might as well pass out. Being an orphan herself, only imagining being raised by someone like Anderson sent a shiver down her spine.

"Oh, you didn't know? The children adore him! Actually-" To keep you from making him lose face any further, Anderson pressed a firm hand over your mouth, making you frown.

"That's enough!" Lady Hellsing grew tired of this nonsense, still wary of the Vatican's intentions. "Stop wasting my time and state your business."

You pry Anderson's palm away from your lips, but his hands remain on your body, resting on your shoulders as he towers behind you like a guard dog. "My sincere apologies, Sir Integra. Those ill-mannered fools are not suited to lead negotiations. They may be outstanding in their field, but they are too erratic and should not be left alone. Thus my presence."

"As if I believe that polite facade of yours! Your..." her lip creases in disdain, "...consort has violated countless treaties aas he attacked not only my organization, but even killed two of my best soldiers!" She then puts a hand over her heart, clutching the fabric of her blouse. "I was almost killed myself!"

"Alexander..." You raise an eyebrow at the man and he winces at the coldness in your tone. "Is that true?"

"Whit o' it? They're lousy heathens." Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him, murmuring "We'll have a word later", before adressing Sir Integra again. "My husband tends to read the bible with partial blindness for the love and forgiveness part, I fear...but a shared enemy makes us at least temporary allies, does it not? We possess valuable information concerning the group that so deviously invaded your property and massacred your staff. Sincere condolences, by the way."

The stern woman at least partially calms, her unwavering glare wandering over to Maxwell, to whom you entrust the rest. "The bishop will discuss all formalities with you. If you'll excuse us..."

"What a fierce young woman, how refreshing indeed..." Alucard taunts, yet was sincere in his compliment. "I understand what you see in her. She's starting to grow on me already..."

In an instant you hear the familiar clang of Anderson's bayonets as he rummages in his cassock, however you quickly intertwine your fingers with his before he can summon them. He restrains himself for your sake, bites back the urge to destroy and instead focusing on leading you away from any danger.

"Don't get too full of yourself, fiend" you snap back at him, a contradictionary smirk playing on your lips. "Better enjoy the time you got left until my spouse ends your miserable existence..."

"Oh, I'm looking forward to see him try." The vampire grins, bearing his fangs in excitement at the devoted trust you put in your husband's strenght. To add insult to injury he bows down in genuine respect, making Anderson possessively tug you towards him. "I'll go back to sleep. It's tiring to be woken at the midst of day. Be well, my fair lady."

"...we'll return tae the Vatican" your partner murmurs as the two of you walk past Maxwell, absendmindedly stroking back of your hand with his thumb. "There's nothin' left for us tae dae here."

The remaining humans look after you for a while in awkward silence, before attending more important matters again.

Anderson then turns to look at you, a bright, almost innocent smile not quite reaching up to his eyes as he speaks. "This is a braw place. We shall bring the orphans some time, ma love."

"Yeah, right?" you chuckle all timid now, and he gladly joins in with your laughter before his voice turns more grim again. "Ah'm definetly gonnae kill them a' next time..." You rub soothing circles on his back, containing his bloodlust like you've grown used to over the years. "I know you will...thank you for protecting us."

He stills for a while, worrying you as a mixture of apprehension and despair becomes apparent in his features. All of a sudden he pushes you against the next best wall, lips devouring you in an urgent fervor. It takes a while until you break the kiss, dizzy at the lack of oxygen.

"Father..." you breathe in small gasps, beaming up at him. "How unbecoming..."

"Don't get used tae it" he grumbles in his usual, authorative tone, yet pecking another, more tender kiss on the top of your head. "Let's keep gaun."

He decides not to tell you what's shaken him up so briefly, chooses to rather dwell in this rare peaceful moment at your side. Nonetheless, Alucard had invaded his head telepathically, the vampire's words still echoing in his mind.

"I'm glad to see you have something that makes you hold on to your humanity, Judas Priest. I really am. So don't you dare losing it."

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alexander anderson #alexander anderson x reader #reader insert #drabble #anon #ask #request

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autumnaaltonen · 2 years ago

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Anonymous requested: "headcannons about Alucard and Alexander Anderson being in love with the same S/O?"

I was feeling more in the one-shot mood, so I hope you like this either way.

Alucard and Alexander Anderson Being in Love With The Same S/O

It started at the National Gallery, where you tagged along with Sir Integra, Walter, Seras and (you think?) Alucard. Tbh, he disappeared the moment you all stepped out of the limo, so you imagine the flirtatious vampire has wandered off to find a dark closet to rest in before being called upon when if things go awry.

Seras, too, leaves you three, mentioning something about “finding a good plan B”. Whatever the hell that meant.

So that just left you, Sir Integra, and Walter, to wander about the marble hallways of paintings, waiting for your invited company to arrive.

If only they would show up on time for once…

“What nuisances,” Integra grumbles, before turning to you. “Go see if you can weed the heretics out. I’m positive they are perusing the exhibit, purposefully wasting our time.”

“Of course, Sir,” you obey, bowing slightly before making your way through the maze-like museum. You imagine that whoever the has Iscariot sent to London; well, they must stick out of the average crowd.

Scanning the tourists for holy robes, uniforms, hell, even a gun or sword, you fail to spot anybody who could possibly be your tardy visitors. Eventually you resort to exploring the forbidden staff area, knowing that both Hellsing and the Iscariot have the pontifical balls to break simple rules. Opening many doors with obvious ‘DO NOT ENTER’ and ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’ signs, but finding most of them locked, you sigh in disappointment, deciding to make your way back to your boss.

But then you spot a familiar head of blonde hair, exactly where she shouldn't be.

“Seras, is that you? What the hell are you doing back here?” you call to her, seeing the young vampire in an unfamiliar uniform. She gives you a cheeky smile and an awkward wave, before disappearing around a corner. Tailing her, you run back down the hall, only to turn the same corner and collide into what you could only assume to be a wall, solid and sturdy as you smack face first and begin fall to the ground. Startled and blurry-eyed, you prepare to break your fall before a very long and strong arm catches you around your shoulders.

“Woah there, friend. Are you alright?” an unfamiliar Irish-tongued man asks, lifting you back onto your feet. You rub your sore forehead, blinking your vision back to coherency before looking up…up...and up, to your human wall.

Christ, he’s tall.

“Haha, yes, indeed you can thank our lord and saviour for that.”

“Oh wow, did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry—” you spy the golden crucifix and clerical collar around his neck, “—Father. I shouldn’t have been running. I saw that my friend had gottn a bit lost and…well she’s gone now.” You huff in annoyance, knowing you’ll give Seras a good talking to later. She’s becoming far too much like her new master as of late.

“All is well, my dear. Actually, I have found me’self a bit lost as well; the museum is just so beautiful that I stumbled off course!” he laughs jovially.

You smile back, knowing you’ve found your man. “Actually, Father, you are just the person I’ve been looking for.” You lift your arm band slightly for the priest to see, telling him your name and position in the Hellsing Organization.

You see his cheerful smile damper a bit at the Hellsing insignia on your uniform, before quickly recovering. “I see. Father Alexander Anderson, at your service, my dear.” He bows his head towards you, “please call me Alexander. After all, you and I come from two very different clergies, I imagine.”

“A pleasure, Alexander. Although, I like to keep my faith ambiguous,” you add. “Sir Integra is waiting for you in the Sainsbury Wing, if you would please follow me.” You raise an arm in the direction out of the staff wing.

“What about your wee friend?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll find her way spontaneously back. Come, let’s not keep Sir waiting any longer, she can be quite the impatient woman.”

Alexander follows you back into the exhibits, making small talk along the way by commenting on the many displays. While a member of Iscariot, you discern Alexander to be a kind man with an eye for art. He tells you small sermons associated with some of the Italian pieces, amazing you with his theological knowledge, and letting him know so. You never imagined an enemy could be so enjoyable to talk to. But you suppose he’s only your enemy by association.

“I take it you are familiar with Hellsing’s pet vampire, dear?” he suddenly asks out of the blue, making you stop pause in surprise. His tone is pleasant, but his face tells something more. You recognize it as hidden disdain, masked behind innocent curiosity.

“Erm, yes, I am.” That was the understatement of the century. You have become more than a little familiar with Alucard over the years you’ve worked by Integra’s side. If you had to describe him in three words, it would be devious, coquettish, and handsy. He has made it more than clear that he has developed an attraction towards you, yet you have hesitated to return the handsome vampire’s advances in fear of getting played. Surely a creature of his stature could never have feelings for a human such as yourself, right? So, you’ve remained neutral, neither encouraging his inviting caresses and seductive words, nor pushing him away.

“We’re coworkers,” you affirm. “But I would not describe us as anything more, though Alucard can get a tad possessive,” you admit.

Alexander sighs with sympathy, suddenly draping an arm around your shoulders, just like he had when he caught you on your fall. He continues to lead you through the museum, not particularly focussed on finding your desired destination any time soon. “A shame. A pretty young soul such as yourself should never feel controlled by a vile monster.”

You purse your lips at the compliment, never hearing a man of the cloth make such a comment before, let alone towards yourself. His hand lowers from your shoulder to your middle back, pulling you gently ever-so-closer to his side.

“Just let me know if you ever need a delivering hand to aid you in a time of need, and the Lord shall answer your call,” he winks at you with a smile, making you giggle in disbelief.

“Father, are you flirting with me?” you ask with mock scepticism.

“Don’t ya worry, dear. I’m more than happy to look at the menu. It's ordering that’ll require a confession out of me. Or two.”

You giggle at his boldness, before the both of you hear an angry cry echo down the hallways.

“Anderson!”

Alexander frowns, before removing his arm from around you. “Please excuse me, my dear. It seems we have missed introductions.” He cracks his knuckles together, before two silver bayonets are unsheathed, seemingly out of nowhere. You gasp in shock as he stalks his way down the hall with a malicious grin on his face, sermons spilling from his mouth as he makes his way to his target.

You follow quickly behind, practically running to keep up with the tall priest. Down the hall you spot Sir Integra, Walter, and also Alucard with his gun’s raised, pointing them at the two other Iscariot members you missed in your search. You know this was going to lead to only one thing.

Alucard laughs maliciously. “Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. Come on then, Judas priest!”

“What a coincidence. You won’t be so lucky this time, vampire. Do you enjoy playing with God’s most gifted children so?”

Jesus Christ on earth. “Stop!” both you and the silver-haired Iscariot member yell at the same time.

You see Alucard’s eyes widen as he catches you running behind from where Alexander had appeared. A scowl replaces his bloodthirsty smile. “What were you doing over there, Catholic? How dare you even breathe the same air as my beloved!”

“Beloved?” Alexander sneers. “How delusional! You really think this beautiful soul would ever be with a putrid demon such as yourself?”

“I’m ordering you to stop!” the Iscariot man repeats.

You've had enough of their cat fighting. You yourself between your quarrelling admirers and silently pray to God (or beg to Satan) that your new knights aren’t feeling as trigger-happy today.

“Hi! Right this way, everybody!” Seras practically yells into your ear, as a flock of elderly Japanese tourists stumble their way around you. “Everyone with the Japanese tour right this way, please! Kochira e dōzo!”

Seras' can-do attitude and smile is a welcome de-escalation of the tense situation. You only wish she had let you know beforehand, before deciding to run away.

Alucard fluidly moves his way through the murmuring crowd, grabs you by your waist and leads you back behind Sir Integra and Walter, much to Alexander’s detestation.

“What were you doing with him?” Alucard glowers.

“I was doing my job, since you decided to disappear," you huff.

“I was making sure the area was safe, for your and my master’s protection. Don’t you know who that priest is? He’s just as much a monster as I. I won’t allow him to go near you again.”

“And what makes your attitude any different from his? How is that any of your business? ” you glare back, not pleased with being pulled around so much today.

Alucard lowers to your level, getting in your face. “You are my business. You are mine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, monster.” Alexander approaches from behind you both, bayonets thankfully gone from his hands. “I think the dear knows the path they walk, and it is not beside you.”

Alucard turns with a hiss, prepared to start the fight anew when it was your heart on the line. Hell, you know Alucard wouldn’t hesitate to bring about WW3 for you.

You stomp your foot on the ground in frustration. “I don’t need either of you to speak on my behalf. The path I walk is my choice alone, and at this moment, it’s away from both of you pompous idiots!” you yell, before turning on your heel towards the pavilion to prepare it for Integra’s meeting. Both of the men look at your back with marvel, before glaring at one another.

Maybe a war really was about to begin?

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing alucard #alucard #alexander anderson #alucard x reader #hellsing alucard x reader #alexander anderson x reader

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wizardofpalmsprings · 6 months ago

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Saint Jude - patron saint of hope and lost causes. Occasionally confused with Judas Iscariot. Patron saint of hospitals as well, which is why a certain sect of children’s hospital is named for him. Also the patron saint of the Chicago PD??

Saint Lawrence - patron saint of “those who work with open fires” (ex: cooks, bakers, brewers), known for giving to the poor. Martyred for saying that the poor were the church’s treasures (at least the way I read it?) and reportedly said “I’m well done on this side. Turn me over!” In the midst of being martyred.

Saint Francis - patron saint of the animals and the environment. His feast day is also world animal day

I was curious to see if the different saints used as code names by the Santo Patron folks might have any significance and well, I can kind of see it.

Lawrence/Stocks is this Everyman used by an organization, if he dies in the field he dies in the field and someone else will take up that name in his place. It’s very fitting for someone who is out doing dangerous work.

St Jude I think could read a couple of ways. If he’s the one who brings people into the organization, he might be the patron of those who were down on their luck but molded by the organization to be something more. On the other hand, it could be that what they’re doing as an organization is bringing hope to people in lost cause situations.

Unclear on St Francis but I have a feeling it may come up later in the season EDIT: the neurons shook hands. This doesn’t relate to the name specifically but St Francis fell off a train and hasn’t been found - a la Bucky Barnes. He’d 100% been Winter Solider’d and Barsimmeon is running around in his body (see the super soldier Jennifer/Russell encountered)

#never stop blowing up #never stop blowing up spoilers #thank you to my ex catholic friend who told me about these saints #since I know nothing #d20 nsbu #nsbu spoilers #nsbu

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chaoticyumelikes · 1 year ago

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Felt a bit nostalgic so...bear with me.

Warnings: religious themes, gore if you squint, swear words...

Alexander Anderson x Gn! reader

No one knows how you caught the priest's attention. But it was not unnoticed. And some people of the Church thought on ways this could... Control the righteous priest. Mask it as some sort of reward for his valiant efforts and achievements within the organization all the while gifting

... Well you... A very pretty leach so he could finally be fully obedient.

Father Anderson himself didn't flinch from his beliefs in the slightest so it took some time.

As for you, you continued happily unaware of the machinations that were happening in the shadows. You went to work or came back from it, waved hello and goodbye to the tall, intimidating yet sweet priest occasionally stopping to chat about several things.

Nothing could prepare you for receiving a letter demanding your presence at an Iscariot office. You didn't even consider yourself so close tied to the Church to make them even remember your name. You thought about not going. But something in you told you it was important. Maybe they wanted you to join their "club" along with several others. However, when you arrived at the location and the nice secretary told you to wait in a chair you realized the weirdness of the situation. You were alone in a very fancy waiting room adorned with fine paintings. You felt as if you had been called to a dean's office after having done something wrong. You tried to focus on the paintings but some of the imagery was of torment and that did nothing to calm your nerves. You knew you were as much a sinner and saint as the next normal person so why were you here? Were you to wait for divine punishment by God's authorities on Earth? You heard the door you came through open and the giant priest you know enters. You sweat bullets when you see him. In a way you were happy to see a familiar face, in another it looked like he was here to give you your last rites.

As he noticed you he froze, your eyes locked he gave you an awkward wave of his gloved hand and asked in that thick accent of his what you were doing there. He took a seat in front of you and you told him what had transpired till then. A brow rose at the story and his face turned pensive. You were just about to ask what he was thinking when you two are summoned to go in.

The priest opened the door for you with a smile and you entered. You were invited to take a seat while the priest remained standing behind you. Unbeknownst to you he gazed at you with pity, one of his hands reaching the inside of his coat till the person who summoned you both gave him a signal that left him even more confused. You weren't a threat? He wasn't there to take you out? He was glad he didn't have to but why else would the motive of this meeting?

Maxwell, the man who invited you and the priest spoke to you two. And it was purely absurd. The very thought of this section of the Church thought they could play matchmaker as if they held the same power over the people as they did in the Medieval times. You were to marry a freaking priest just because?! Father Alexander also protested against this vehemently. He was faithful to each one of his vows even if the organization "so generously" decided to open a few exceptions to him. In a way, it was strange seeing the ire and indignation in the priest as he spits Bible passage after passage at his supposed "boss". It was intimidating.

You both stormed out of that office with Maxwell sighing and speaking the words none of you heard: "The hard way it is"

Father Alexander apologized to you for what you had seen. He shouldn't have lost his temperament in front of one of the flock. You chuckled at the word flock and said it wasn't his fault. He offered to accompany you back home to keep you safe. A kind gesture to be sure. One you couldn't find any reason he should not to. Even tho he meant well and for your safety, the odd looks people gave one walking with a very tall priest... You were feeling very uncomfortable. Sensing that, the priest was kind enough to talk about anything to distract you from the walk and sure enough, once you got used to his thick accent, you enjoyed your time talking to him. He was a very intelligent individual albeit too dead set on his ways and fiercely loyal to his beliefs.

Arriving at your place you said your farewells with awkward smiles. He only turned his back on you once you had entered your home closing the door. You sighed. What a weird day. But that was that...

And naive you were to think that. Refusing an order from someone who had as many connections as Maxwell had put you in a corner. He dug out everything from you and everyone in your life that could be used against you. Even the smallest detail was made into a big issue until you finally caved.

It was a beautiful day. You managed to ask for a small "ceremony". It was in the same office that made your life turn upside down. You didn't invite anyone. You couldn't even believe it was happening. Some of the more religious members of your family were thrilled. Others supported your decision and should you try to fight against it you know the individual holding out papers for you and Alexander to sign would stop at nothing to silence them. Speaking of the priest, he was just as forlorn as you. Sure his expression was stoic but in his eyes, it was like a storm was brewing.

Night arrived with little to no celebration as you entered your husband's room. Just like you predicted it was a small and austere room. The few decorations were religious themed and there was one bed, a closet, a small cabinet the bible, some papers with strange symbols on them and... Were those weapons?

The priest followed your gaze and apologized. He tried to make the room presentable for you but he must've forgotten about those. When asked for explanations he simply said those weapons were for protection against monsters. He received a weird look from you but didn't offer any more information.

You two set next to each other on the bed where the priest explained that this whole situation wasn't his idea, fault or even ideal. You could and should take the bed as he would sleep on the floor. As you tried to protest he explained he didn't wish to force any of this madness onto you and that you both had a very tiring day and that you should rest. As he went to the restroom to give you privacy to change. Some of your things had been taken there and you made sure to be as fast as you could, go to bed and imagine all this was just a dream.

As you went to bed you watched as the priest had been in silent prayer. Deciding not to disturb him, you climbed the bed grimacing at how hard the mattress was but thankful for the priest's generosity nonetheless. You whisper him goodnight and hear him telling you to have sweet dreams as he adjusted himself on the floor.

About an hour passed till you couldn't take your conscience anymore.

"Father Anderson?" you asked.

"Alexander."

"What?"

"We are married, might as well address me by just my name, lamb"

Lamb? Did he just call you- Anyways forget that. You were on a mission.

"Alexander... You know... You don't have to sleep on the floor! We can share the bed. Platonically!"

There was an awkward silence between you. It was like the man was weighing his options.

"It would weigh less on my conscience if you slept in a bed rather than the floor." you offered. Silence once again.

"Oh come on Alexander how am I supposed to sleep knowing I drove a holy man out of his bed!"

At that, he laughed! So you decided to keep going. "Seriously?! How can you protect your flock if you don't have a proper night's sleep?!" he continued laughing. Once he finally stopped he sighed.

"Is it truly ok with you?"

You agreed.

"Very well. For your consciousness' sake."

You heard him get up and saw his shadow, you tried to look ok with the arrangement even though the man still intimidated you. You felt the bed shift with his weight. And you overestimated the bed's width as even with both of you on your sides your backs had to touch so you two could fit. You heard the man mumble something about needing to get a bigger bed first thing in the morrow. Saying your good night's again you drifted off to sleep lulled by the warmth his back was providing. You could've sworn you heard crying... But your sleep was simply too strong and you lost consciousness before you could discern if the sound was real or imagined.

The days between you two were challenging, adjusting to his routines and him to yours. Getting to know each other was also a challenge in itself so you two decided to spend some time together so you could make this strange arrangement more bearable. He practiced his sermons near you oftentimes asking your opinion. He always accompanied you to your work making sure you would be safe and every time he could he would also wait for you, accompanying you back "home". The organization was kind enough to offer you two a private apartment since other people of the order thought oh so very scandalous your married presence in their midst. One look from Alexander however was enough to shut some whispers as he was equal parts respected and equal parts feared.

You couldn't put your finger as to why exactly people feared him. Sure he was very tall, strong and had a scar on his face making him look intimidating but he has been nothing but gentle towards you. He tried his best to make you comfortable in every way he possibly could. He listened to your opinions offering you his own but never escalating into an argument. When his job required him to stay away from you for days at a time he would always bring you back something he wrote or made that made him think of you. Whenever he had work at the orphanage he would marvel at the kids' reaction to know you were his married partner. Secretly he would love the kids' happiness and rapid-fire questions at you. Were you to play with the kids and his smile would be ever radiant.

It was months into this arrangement that you began to notice weird things. Such as specks of what looked like blood on his skin. One time he came home extremely injured. You tried to get him to a Hospital and he just stopped you. He told you he was able to recover extremely fast. Not taking his word you fussed over the wound undressing him to look at the damage better and the amount of scars he had on his torso made you stop. He avoided your gaze suddenly far too shy under your scrutiny. Your eyes widened as you saw the wounds on his flesh heal in real time. You asked him what had happened. How did he get so many scars? How could he recover from wounds that fast? He only offered you a begging look while taking your ringed hand in his and promised that after the next mission, he had he would tell you about his... Other job.

A million questions swirling in your head but knowing he wouldn't answer them till he came back were haunting you. You thought so much about what could it all mean that you didn't see you were being followed. Suddenly all you saw was darkness and the feeling of someone taking you away.

When you came to you noticed you were bound and someone was talking. In your daze you could only make out the words:

"married" "to that priest" you heard laughter, you heard something that sounded like crude jokes and finally "hostage". When you finally were aware one of the men approached you, seemingly happy to see you awake. He forcefully grabbed your face as if he was inspecting you, turning it this way and suddenly stopping. Looking hungrily at your neck, your eyes widening as his canines showed. Fortunately for you, they needed you still and he backed off once one of the others barked at him to stay away. He shrugged saying something about still having leftovers and at that he left, you heard a scream and a sound like something was breaking flesh. You were at full attention now. These people weren't human! What could they want from you?

"Are you sure this is the right person?" one of them said "They are far too pretty for a man of the robe. Tell me. Does he use you all the time? I mean, that celibacy shit must break a man." he caressed your cheek and you flinched away in disgust "aw what's the matter? Not holy enough for you?" he grabbed your arm and as he was pulling you towards him something sharp struck his arm. Your eyes widened as you recognized the weapon.

At the entrance of the building, there was a silhouette of a tall man, his glasses reflecting the light. Your eyes widened in recognition as he began reciting passages of the Bible in his characteristic accent. His hands grasped his weapons as he walked towards his opponents without fear. The men rushed towards him while Alexander, with a final "Amen" mercilessly cut them through. In the carnage you closed your eyes shut only daring to open when you felt a violent hand grabbing your neck only to be swiftly detached from its arm, hand falling to the floor as Alexander charged to the offender offing him quickly. You trembled as you heard the huffs of the priest from the exertion. Quickly you heard him get to his feet and run towards you in a panic.

"Lamb are you alright?! Did they hurt you?!" his eyes darted at you frantically searching for any sign of pain or discomfort freeing you from the ropes. You were so pale he kept fussing over you till he cupped your cheeks with his gloved bloodied hands. "Lamb please! Speak to me!" you looked at him, at the carnage behind him and the spatter of blood on his face and glasses and you quickly jerk your head down as you puke. Alexander stays there motionless as he just stares as you empty your bowels. He can feel it on his robes and shoes but he couldn't care less far too worried about your wellbeing. Medics from the organization entered the room and he barked orders at them to check you for any injuries. Some tried to push him away but he refused to budge from your side. Once you calmed down and the medics made sure you were unharmed he carried you away in his arms. You were far too weak to protest and he was far too afraid to leave your side again. Once you two were in your shared room and cleaned up he lay you down on the bed as he kneeled by your side taking your hand in his placing it in his forehead as if he was still making sure you were there.

"You scared me. When I came home and didn't see ya. When they told me you were taken-" you saw tears running down his face "if they had so much as hurt you. I would- May those fuckers rot in Hell! God--" he squeezed your hand "I can't lose your lamb. Please..."

With your free hand, you wiped away his tears and pulled him to you, his head resting on your chest as he hugged you desperately. You two held each other that night. He enveloped you out of fear of losing you again. That moment you understood what he meant by monsters and why even some people feared him. Today you would let him rest but tomorrow he would fulfil his promise and tell you all about his so-called "other job".

And true to his word he spent the day telling you all about it. He wouldn't leave your side after that. The trauma of almost losing you is too fresh in his mind. You were grateful for his company. Still, you couldn't believe all he had told you but it made you understand him a lot better. When finally he couldn't refuse missions anymore you clung to him and made him promise to return to you. He did promise... But it still didn't ease your worries.

He made sure to leave someone to watch out for you should any monster try anything again. Not that they would anytime soon considering how much of an example he made of your captors. But still.

You prayed for his wellbeing every day and when he returned you tackled him in a hug. He chuckled at your reaction telling you to be careful cause his robes were usually home for many of his sharp weapons. You bombarded him with questions, not about the mission, but about his wellbeing.

He chuckled at your concerns.

"Worried about your husband, lamb?"

You looked at him defiantly and he smiled widely. "There's my fierce little lamb." at this, you pouted and grabbed him by the collar pulling him down to your size and you kissed him. The priest was stunned at your reaction. Gingerly wrapping his arms around you ever careful to gauge your reaction. Once he made sure you were ok with this he reciprocated your affection with an intensity of his own. When you part your foreheads touch as you both regain your breath.

That evening he finally showed you just how meaningful you were to him. Always gently, always with your consent, he explored you as if you were a precious gift just for him from the Heavens above. Praising you, adoring and worshipping every part of you as much as you do him. Making sure you were alright every step of the way until you both lost yourselves blissfully in each other. Resting in each other's arms basking in the pleasurable afterglow of your finally consummated marriage.

Both of you didn't know what the future would bring. Both of you were afraid of losing the other to the darkness. Fortunately for you, he was a man of light. He would tear darkness apart and bring you to his safety, making sure both of you remain on the righteous path... Amen.

#gn!reader #hellsing #alexander anderson #Alexander anderson x reader #father alexander anderson

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see-arcane · 1 year ago

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Yes Hirano's super weird with the "vampirism happens only with virgins" rule when it's decidedly not a thing in Dracula's vampirism lore. (Though not as weird as what he did to Mina, who deserves to crawl back to life and murder everyone in the whole manga for it)

True on both points.

Unfortunately, you've activated a mental trap card and now I'm about to explode into a barely-related tangent. Please stand by for hazy Hellsing spoilers to anyone who wants to look away.

The saddest thing about Hellsing is that it's one of the least headache-inducing Dracula-adjacent pieces of media I can think of.

Even with how Hirano draws Seras Victoria and That Scene with Rip Van Winkle. Even with his ~creative~ take on Vlad the Impaler. Even with what he retroactively does to Mina's remains. Even with Abraham van Helsing once again getting shoved through the No Really Honest for Real He was a Super Cool Occult Magic Man who was Definitely Solely Responsible for Taking Dracula Down!!1! filter (with Jonathan and Mina getting a whole single panel together, ooh, aah). Even with the nitpick of turning Helsing into Hellsing just because of the Edgy+ factor.

Even with all of that, I can still genuinely say I enjoy it.

First, because Alucard and company are there to kill Nazis and generally monstrous people who signed up to get superpowers to be even bigger monsters. I love seeing them get supernaturally woodchipper'd. Never disappoints.

Second, because Alucard/Dracula is--and this is vital--still a bastard. One who, via the lens of how the Hel(l)sing family did their murky magical experiments on him, got juiced up into the Mega Shounen Horror Ultrabadass version of himself...and promptly got put on a magic leash so that he could only bare his teeth at the command of his human Hel(l)sing master. And for decades, pre-Integra, he was left to wither and rot in a windowless cell. Waiting to be dusted off.

It's a unique psychological place to force the asshole into. It doesn't make him a good guy, but I'd say it makes him a better character. One who pushes the limits of how much of a monster he can be without breaking the tethers on him and his power. Even when the inevitable Count Fuckula ooh~ sexy sexypire~ glaze gets applied with his interactions with Integra, it's still shown how fucking aggravating and uninvited he is with it. How much he uses it as just another nettle. Just as he once used an admittedly classier/classic gothic predatory menace on Jonathan, Lucy, and Mina in the novel.

When the big climax comes and he gets to flex all of his bloated powers, he's reached an internal growth point where he, at the very least, takes a moment to acknowledge Integra and Seras as worthy of respect rather than just irritating or deriding them respectively.

As an aside, despite her obvious Fanservice Girl position, I do have to grudgingly give Hirano points for how he portrays Seras Victoria's position with Alucard. This is the first (and I think only!) time I've ever seen a Dracula turn some voluptuous babe and then...not make advances on her. Before or after. He turned her to save her life after shooting through her to kill the vampire at her back. If anything, this is the first time we see any form of Dracula take a non-sexual, strangely paternal approach to the assumed vampire bride of a story.

And then there's the matter of Alexander Anderson. He and the Iscariot organization are absolutely bristling with what-the-fuckery and religion-aesthetic weirdness I don't have the skill to untangle. But the set up between Anderson and Alucard at the climax by itself is an interesting thing for how it shows a kind of logical (by manga standards) extreme of Dracula looking peaceful in the novel's climax; how he died and turned to dust with serenity. He welcomed it.

Alucard/Dracula, for all his glee at being a sadistic overpowered monster, welcomes Anderson's attempt to kill him while the man is still human. He's eager to be slain by a righteous mortal hand--perhaps he always had been since that Transylvanian sunset when he was left paralyzed, but not put down. Just turned into an experiment and an attack dog for the century and change to come. And when Anderson resorts to inhumanity, to becoming a horror like him rather than remaining the human hero who rightfully slays the monster, it makes him livid. Heartbroken.

There's just a lot to pick apart with this version of Dracula that I find worth sitting through the nonsense for. He isn't watered down into a cartoon. He isn't turned into a wink-at-the-camera Casanova. He isn't ~doing it all for love~. He's still fucking Dracula. But a Dracula who's been dragged by the hair through an intriguing rock tumbler of a history and forced to play with a cast of characters that makes me want to see what happens next rather than roll my eyes at yet another cookie cutter DRACULA WAS SO AWESOME-COOL AND THE REAL ANTIHERO ALL ALONG AND ALL THE GIRLS WANTED HIM AND THE HUMAN HEROES WERE ACTUALLY ALL LAME OR SECRETLY EVIL narrative.

It's a bloodstained bullet-riddled eldritch undead fever dream.

All that and it has a Dracula who eats Nazis.

I'll take that shit and Crispin Freeman's velvet voice acting in a heartbeat over 90% of Dracula media that's been squatted out over the past 126 years.

#at this point I'm going dust off the manga collection for a reread #hellsing #mina harker #dracula #alucard

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