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tokoyamisstuff · 1 month ago

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Sursum Corda

Lt. "Lift your hearts/souls", a call to worship before prayer

A/N: Glad to hear there's more people wanting to fuck the biblically accurate rosebush! Also you know me, no smut without eons of buildup.

If that's not your cup of tea don't read it, I'm not responsible for your media consumption. English is not my first language.

Anderson has been haunted by god all his life, way before he had become this...thing.

It was all he ever wanted, wasn't it? To become a vessel, an unfeeling tool to implement God's will on earth, the personification of his wrath against all evil that defies him.

Only briefly his wish was granted and his consciousness fell silent in the bliss of this all-consuming holy duty. Finally, the personal hell that was his own mind came to a halt and was replaced by something far beyond his wildest imagination.

All the worse was his fall from grace when that very same God had forsaken him after he failed to accomplish his mission. At least on the outside Millenium's scheme successfully erased Alucard from existence, so the Judas Priest was granted control over himself once again as well.

Only now he was changed, evermore.

What returned from the battlefield was merely a shadow of his former self, the remnants of his possession leaving him more forlorn than ever before.

A 'Monster of God' is still a monster nonetheless, especially after it's Lord has abandoned his creation.

And beings like he called one himself now were akin to animals in their instincts, if not worse. Their nature driven not by necessity, but a selfish urge to consume in order to ease their yearning for death, to regain a fraction of the humanity they once lost.

This past, this reality felt an eternity away now, even though not a whole day had gone by.

Before he knew it, in his exasperation Anderson had taken what he had rightfully denied himself all those years.

But he simply cannot stay away no longer. Not if you're the only thing in his life that still made sense.

The 'old' Anderson was by far not an innocent man either, but while that version of him may have been strong enough to resist, the broken abomination he had reduced himself to was driven by a completely different obsession.

It could only be described as a horror scenario how the former protector of the orphanage invaded these holy grounds himself. Yet though he could never bring harm upon any of them, at that moment he also held no regards for the mental scars he would leave them with after bearing witness to the consequences of his actions:

Thorned vines were sprouting everywhere from his body, to the point that it was hauntingly indistinct where they ended and he began. Half of his face was missing, now replaced by a barely recognizeable, inhumane mockery of the man you once knew.

All you remember was the panicked screams of church members in face of an unidentified threat, all of you trying to guide the children to safety when suddenly your eyes locked with all too familiar ones - but they held a gleam to them as if something in him was set ablaze.

Initially thinking he was turned and lost himself in a bloodrage, you screamed his name, tried to reason with the children's sake for him to stop this madness, but he was so insanely fast that you couldn't even react before you were enveloped in what appeared to be vines and dragged away.

Next thing you knew was that you woke up in his arms instead, safe and sound at least for now.

You had a vague idea where you were, he once told you about this small hut in the Scottish outskirts. Nothing fancy really, just a tiny log cabin far away from any civilization. An inheritance after his parents early passing, the only thing he got that connects him to the people he never really got to know. Their untimely deaths marked the beginning of his sheer neverending ordeal.

Anderson hasn't spoken a single word ever since he snatched you away, in fact the only sounds leaving his throat are what one could only describe as the wailing of a rogue beast. His massive shoulders were whacking with every sob as he desperately clung to your much smaller form, like a child would hold a stuffed toy for comfort.

All of this felt like a neverending nightmare and yet he fears if he ever wakes up, you'd disappear as well.

Because there's no surviving you. Losing you too would end what's left of him.

He's lying on the mattress besides you, pressing your back flush against his chest with frightening vigor yet also the utmost gentleness as if afraid to hurt you with this frightening strenght. Nothing goes past his heightened senses, from your breathing pattern over your erratic heartbeat and up to the way your muscles contract with every small movement.

You were calm, too calm for someone in your predicament and even if he wasn't currently breaking down right next to you, he wouldn't be able to make sense of why that is.

Especially because he perceived other sensations along with that, appealingly silencing his voice of reason. Like the feel of your tender flesh, pliant under his palm or that intoxicating scent of yours hanging in the air, pheromones so intense as if your body was calling out for him.

It made him sick with want.

How utterly unworthy he is of your presence, and yet he had grown addicted to it without any of your intervention.

He is no better than the demons he had sworn to cleanse the world of, and now feeling their allconsuming hunger as his own is frightening even to himself.

Since it wasn't a hunger that could be satiated by feeding, no. It was something far more possessive and depraved.

A man like him wasn't allowed to love in any way else than pure, and yet here he was, his judgement threatened to be overthrown by desire.

He hates what you do to him, and he especially hates what he wants to do to you.

You started to shift with the intent to face him, but were once again met with dark green tendrils, meandering their way around your body and effectively keeping you in place. They surprisingly didn't hurt, were freed of any thorns as they wrapped themselves securely to your skin.

"Don't-" His booming, distorted voice was laced with undeniable agony and shame. "Don't look at me...please..."

"Anderson..." It felt like this name wasn't his own anymore, and yet hearing it again shook a violent tremor through his body. "You're alive...I thought you were-" You let out a strangled yet relieved whimmer, having tormented yourself ever since he left for the war in London. "I was worried sick...I'm so glad...I- please, I need to see you."

Out of everything he was bracing himself for, it was those particular words that rendered him speechless. He had expected fear, revulsion, anger. For you to scream and shout and cry, lash out or resist. To admonish him for what he's done, beg him to let you go or at least not to hurt you. Anything but this.

There was not an ounce of hatred in your tone - the opposite was the case.

Your soul truly is a mystery he'll never unfold.

If anything, your deeds only elevate your further in his mind, envisions you to what comes closest to an angel for a wretch like him.

Anderson gazes away as he allows you to turn around, unable to look at you as if the brightness of your being was like staring directly into the sun.

"Dear God...what happened?!" He weakly shook his head in defeat, a silent plea to not inquire any further for now. He was not ready to tell you this long, painful story just yet and he knew you'd be understanding. You always were for this reckless fool that he was before. "It's insignificant. All that matters is that you're alright." He was far from that, honestly.

You cupped his cheeks, fingers entangling in the vines stemming from his left side. Anderson was astonished with how boldly you touched them, not a sign of hesistance or disgust in the way you cradled his head in your hands. He seemed visibly torn to just dwell in this balmy feel, fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or telling you to run for it and never look back.

"Is it really you?" you ask meekly and without forethought, the stubble of his beard prickling your palm. His skin was greyish-pale, eyes glowing unnaturally, and the half of his mouth that was missing was equipped with razor sharp canines. He looks more like a reanimated corpse than anything, but you wouldn't say this aloud.

And yet you couldn't feel happier, couldn't feel more safe than in his embrace.

"...God has accursed me."

"No, he hasn't." You say firmly, pulling him down to lean his forehead against yours and he'd close his eyes in a pathetic attempt not to cry. "God has sent you back to me in his infinite wisdom and benevolence, and I will forever be grateful for this."

That's not right he thinks quietly, God doesn't reward sinners.

After all, he has failed you and everyone he's vowed to protect due to his own shortcomings. Hell, he abducted you, trapped you here with no way of escaping, and he knew even if you tried he wouldn't- couldn't let you leave.

Because in his religious fervor he became the very thing he seeked to destroy.

"I love you." It's the first time he's confessed this to anyone besides God. "You don't have to love me back. You don't have to be mine. Just...let me be yours.”

Anderson is aware that this is terribly wrong. He was fighting against his inner demons, against this torturous desire for so long already - but now that everything and everyone he ever believed in has literally turned into ashes, you were all that he had left.

You could faintly hear the violent drum of his heart, this behemoth behaving more like a child that's about to be chided. Upset, his tendrils coil even tighter around your middle, making it quite uncomfortable to breathe. He didn't want to scare you, hell, let alone force you - he was just genuinely terrified of your answer.

Whatever comes next was up to you, and he'd gladly accept it. You could either absolve him or throw him into the deepest pits of hell.

In the end, you decided to let your actions convey words you weren't able to form.

Your lips brushed against his, soft and featherlight, like the wings of a butterfly that had just settled on a venus flytrap. He gasped at the sensation, your breaths mingling as you refused to let go.

It took everything inside of him to not pounce on you right this instant, to not ruin this moment and give in to the dark desire that only kept growing at the display of your mutual affection.

Your love is both salvation and damnation, and he wasn't sure yet whether he could trust himself handling such an incredible gift.

Upon feeling you deepening the kiss, your tongue demanding entrance, Anderson manages to tear himself away from you - and it felt like removing a bandaid from a wound that hasn't nearly healed. You let out a protesting noise, your hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer again, but he wouldn't cave and instead softly grabbed your shoulders.

"Stop." His demand was stern, but you could see the tempest brewing beneath. You glance up at him, confused but ever so trusting, and he can't help but place a chaste kiss into your hair. "You shouldn't- you don't have to do this."

You furrow your brows, an adorable little pout curling your lips that almost cracks a smile out of him despite the circumstance. "I know. But I want to."

"Really, dear, just having you here with me is more than I could ever ask for" he insisted, secretly apprehensive that you might only play along to appease the monstrous lunatic that held you hostage. He was obviously instable and could tear you apart with ease, so of course you would be scared and willing to do or say anything to save yourself.

...that was until he set eyes upon that radiating smile of yours.

He had seen it so many times before, and he could never get enough: When you were at a particulary intriguing part of a book you were reading, when you were admiring the flowers blossoming in the courtyard, when you were playing with the orphans or tended to animals you'd occasionally bring in to nurse them back to health.

Not to mention how often you gifted him that smile in the past, and it never failed to make him long to be the only one to receive it, the only one to be able to make you happy like that.

This one was so bright, so sincere, it made him temporarily forget about his pitiful existence and all doubts that came along with it.

"That's by far not the first grave mistake you made" you chuckle softly, intertwining your fingers with his. "We'll figure it out like we always do. And even if we don't I'll be there for you. I promise."

Indeed, over the years you were one of, if not the only constant in his life, aiding him through all kinds of hardships as best as you could.

Back then he never bothered himself whether you reciprocated his feelings or not, since he never intended to act upon them either way. If anything he loathed himself for these thoughts, for mentally degrading you to anything less than the precious, graceful creature you are.

Yes, he needs to pull himself together. He should never defile you like this....not before, and certainly not as he is now.

"Alex..." you chant the endearing nickname with such an alluring voice, his vines started to act subconsciously. Against his self-restraint, they slither under your shirt and up your neck, and you giggle at the tickling as one played with the shell of your ear. You peck a loving kiss on one of the tendrils, your acceptance of his state only causing him to involuntarily pull you even closer this time.

The beast inside of him is gnawing and clawing, demands to take what you offer to fill this all-consuming emptiness.

"I love you too, Alexander Anderson. For a long, long time already...I belong to you, body and soul. Whatever you need, whatever you want, let me help you with it like I always have."

Your confession was the last drop that caused his heart and mind to overflow.

If this is what it takes to feel human again, then so be it.

In an instant Anderson's vines wrap around your wrists and ankles, effectively pinning you down on your back. They eagerly tether under your clothes, around the swell of your hips, the dip of your waist before tearing the fabric apart with one swift movement.

He kneels in front of your body, his large elongated shadow falling on your bare form. You shiver as the cold air hits your skin, moreso after seeing Anderson's intense gaze raking up and down your body. His chest is having with every breath, as if to desperately trying to hold back whatever urges his twisted mind cojured.

"It's alright...I would never hurt you...you're fine...I mustn't hurt you...I won't hurt you..." He repeats those words like a mantra, as if to reassure himself rather than you. Still, several tendrils trace the path of your jugular vein, up to the pulse point on your neck, lingering there tentatively before feebly wrapping around it.

You let out a sensual sigh as his vines keep caressing every inch of your body, lust-filled eyes invitingly blinking up to him. "I know...I-ah! I trust you, Anderson...with every fibre of my being..."

He almost whines at that, at the fact that your words all too effortlessly mend his scattered parts back together.

The long, warm appendages wrap around your calves, dividing your legs apart and presenting your dripping core to his sight. You whimper as one thicker trunk flicked up and down your folds, another one tightening around your mid to keep you in place.

"Heavens, you're divine..." Anderson is shaking in a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, the newfound usage of his powers both blessing and curse. It's monstrous, abnormal, and yet the only way to bring enough distance between you and him to not lose himself in the heat of the moment.

"If you get scared...if you don't like it...you will tell me" he rasps as several vines align with your entrance, his voice betraying his near obsession with the abstract of your body. "Immediately. Promise me."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, still ever so trusting, the gravity of your voice matching his. "I promise."

As soon as those words left your lips one, two and then more of his vines work themselves inside of you. Others busy themselves encircling and kneading your breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh of your nipples into harness.

Your head falls back in ecstasy, unable to move to adjust the foreign sensation as you faintly hear Anderson growling about worshipping you the way you deserve.

His mouth is slightly agape, mesmerized as he observed you squirm around the restrictions, seeing how you still eagerly try moving your hips towards the cause of your pleasure.

The appendages, now slick with your ambrosia, move in and out as they fill the room with lewd noise, makes your mind and body submit to the overwhelming arousal. One of them curls inside you just right, grazing over a web of tissue that sends weakness trailing up your spine, across your hips and down your legs, making your toes curl.

The vines being an extension of himself makes the sensation of them touching you blend into a mosaic of pain and pleasure, sweet torture being so close to you and yet too far away.

Feeling your walls clench around them makes him throb helplessly, the damp spot at the front of his cassock proof of his desparation.

He alomost comes undone at the sheer sight of you, tits bouncing and a bulge poking below your tummy with every thrust.

"Look at you...so malleable, taking it all so well..." he emphasizes every word with a thrust of his, "This must be what Adam had felt when he first set eyes upon Eve - having a part of his heart besides him, each one half of a united whole."

Having mercy with you his gloved hand finds your clit, tending to the bundle of nerves and sending you over the edge in mere moments. You feel a tide of ecstasy wash over you, hips jolting with every wet, lewd thrust up into your core.

You whine as he jolts out of you all too sudden, still sensitive and nearly raw from the force of it, just for the vines to bully themselves into your mouth instead, letting you taste your own lust on your lips.

Anderson watches almost hypnotized as you lick them clean, the slight gloss of your eyes making him doubt his actions briefly, clearing the lust-induzed haze on his mind.

"Are you okay, love?" he murmurs darkly, yet no less mindful or concerned. You nod mutely, a content smile playing on your lips as you were still caught in the aftermath of your orgasm. "Good. Good. I'm not done yet. I still need you."

Finally, he leans over, his cheek faintly stroking yours as he closes the gap between you and even with all the preparation, it takes you a while to adjust to his size and girth. He went in slow, letting you feel the stretch of every inch, bit by bit till he reaches the hilt, and you let out a muffled whine at the fullness.

"Shh...I got you..." he whispers, stilling inside of you until you signalize him you're ready for him to start moving. He rolls his hips slowly, carefully, his hands finding purchase with your own as he keeps up the sensual pace. "I love you" he repeats solemny, leading one hand of yours to rest at the spot where the Helena's Nail was still deeply buried in his chest. "I spent too much of my life guarding my heart...and now I can't even tell you if there's still one inside of me anymore, but if there is...it's yours."

Tears spill over the rim of your eyes and down your cheeks, only to be wiped away by thorned vines. Almost poetic.

"I love you too!" you exclaim, throwing the words right back at him, unable to form any more coherent sentences as your mind went blank for a second time.

Both of you entangle with the other, unwilling to ever let go, and even after your second climax Anderson seems to be determined to pull out more from you.

His vines pull you onto his lap now, lifting and bouncing you onto his cock while your name drops from his lips like a profession of faith. Its too much, the feeling of being filled and enveloped at once until all you can feel is him.

"A-Anderson, I can't-" your voice is rising and cracking sharply as another peak builds up inside of you. "I'm right behind you, love. Let yourself fall, I'll catch you."

His lips crush over yours again, drinking in your moans as if he needs you more than the blood in his veins.

For a moment your vision went blank and you almost grew limp from exhaustion, but even after the vines retreated you were caught in Anderson's embrace. Leaving kisses in his wake, he notices all the small cuts and bruises his vines nearly seared on you as they explored you earlier.

Anderson clings to you like you're his lifeline, his voice gravely concerned as he massages the marking loveletter he unintentionally wrote on your skin in his possessive fenzy. "I'm sorry...im so sorry...I should've controlled myself better..."

Wanting to give you space he rolls to lie on his back, but you snuggle onto him, pillowing your head on his shoulder and draping an arm over his stomach like he was a massive teddy bear.

"Ive never been better, really. That was...I don't even know how to begin describing it...I would've never dared dreaming of ever being this close to you." you gently, dreamily affirm him, absentmindedly letting a hand run over the vines on his chest. "Thank you for coming back to me, Alex."

A slow hum of bliss vibrates in his chest as he lets your words seep into his soul, his arm securely tucking around your waist. "I’m scared to death that I’ll let you down again, but I won’t run from myself this time."

"I believe in you. You are a good person and you deserve to be happy, Anderson. You just need to allow yourself to be." There is a dash of hopefulness in the way his face relaxes as he listens. "Say, I had a bag on me when you...you know, took me. Where is it?"

Anderson's brow furrowed but he wouldn't question your demand, his vines stretching across the room to bring you the small bagpack you always carried everywhere. He watches intently as you rummage inside of it, laughing internally as you happily pluck out a small case. "You still carry this with you?"

"Always!" you cheer, opening it to reveal an exact replica of his glasses. "No wonder with how often you break them."

Finally, he found himself able to mirror your smile. It's more of a snarl than anything, however it doesn't fail to convey the depht of his affection and gratitude.

Anderson closes his eyes, tilting his head downwards in reverence as you set the glasses on his nose - a symbol that no matter how he had changed, deep down he was still the same man, no matter what.

"Welcome back, Alexander."

#hellsing #alexander anderson #alexander anderson x reader #reader insert #writing #oneshot #fanfiction #monster of god #planterson #anderplant

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