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𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 !

nav. | k.list | law | m.list !

➥ FANDOMS

hellsing ultimate

attack on titan

haikyuu

midnight mass

twd

vinland saga

castlevania

➥ I WILL WRITE . . .

fluff, angst, long fics, headcanons, enemies —> lovers, found family, dark themes ( within reason ! ), modern au, platonic dynamics, drabbles . . .

➥ I WILL NOT WRITE . . .

gore, incest, non-con, dub-con, fetish content, pedophillia, oversexualisation of trauma, anything that will overstep my boundaries . . .

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whoops i forgot i had this blog sowwy take an oc photobash as an apology..???

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𝓞𝐇 𝓣𝐎 𝓑𝐄...

𝓘𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀

Oh to be the photo she keeps in her wallet.

𝓐𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

Oh to keep matching stuffed animals with him.

𝓢𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒

Oh to be her phone wallpaper.

𝓦𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑

Oh to be the only person he shares his tea with.

𝓐𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

Oh to be in a photograph he keeps hidden in his bible.

[neferatii]

omg i see u write for hellsing and hellsing is just so underrated!! so can u pls do an obsessed anderson or alucard x fem reader headcanons?? or smut? or anythingggg any content of them would work!😭😭

synopsis ⠀⨟⠀your obsessed lover.

cw ⠀⨟⠀ obsessive themes, possession, stalking implications, religious themes.

a/n ⠀⨟⠀ was v excited to do this! i’m so happy you requested this friend 🫶

𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

Alucard knew you were going to be his the second he laid eyes on you. A soldier for Hellsing, practically a nobody in the grand scheme of things, known only for your loyalty. But to him? You were far more than that. Something rare. Something worth claiming.

God, he was infatuated with you. Any time you were around, he’d pause—just to watch you move. He savored every small laugh that escaped you, the quirk of your lips when you smiled, the way your fingers fumbled together when you slipped into awkwardness. Humans had always fascinated him… but you? You were something else entirely. He savoured every sweet moment with you—even the ones where you barely registered his presence at all. Just being near you was enough for him. He never bothered giving anyone else the time of day, not unless it was Integra or Seras—but with you, he did. You were the exception he didn’t expect.

He didn’t make his infatuation obvious. He knew better than that—he wouldn’t risk it. So he stayed silent, but he never stopped watching. Observing. Always finding some small excuse, no matter how trivial, just to speak to you for a moment.

Until that began to change. Over time, he noticed you growing more comfortable with him—not just as a powerful vampire or a weapon, but as someone who, in his own way, seemed to care. And though he didn’t show it often, he did. Far more than you realized. He took advantage of that trust, still sneaky, slipping in to see you more and more. He knew he had to make you his, and he did everything he could to ensure it, learning every detail about you, constantly keeping you safe… and it worked like a charm.

Once he secured you as his, he wasn’t shy about showing it. He made sure everyone knew who you belonged to, leaving little love bites on your neck, taking you with him everywhere despite the difference in rank, and making it very clear that anyone who gave you the wrong kind of look would face the consequences. Alucard doesn’t do casual. Love for him is absolute, all-consuming, a fire that burns brighter than his own immortality. Once he sets his gaze on someone, he doesn’t just desire them—he claims them. Every thought, every action revolves around that person, and he knows instinctively when they need him, even before they do.

He became… too present. At first it was comforting, the way he always seemed to know when you were stressed or tired or overwhelmed. He’d show up out of nowhere with some quiet comment, or he’d stand behind you with that calm, unreadable expression that somehow made you relax. But it didn’t stay comforting for long. It changed—slowly, subtly—into something that felt almost heavy. Something that pressed down on your lungs whenever you realized you hadn’t gone a full hour without sensing him nearby.

Even when he wasn’t physically beside you, you felt him. A weight at your back, a chill along your neck, a prickling awareness that he was watching. Sometimes you’d catch the faintest flicker of red in the corner of your vision, gone when you turned your head. He liked doing that—letting you know without actually saying anything. A reminder that you weren’t alone. That he wouldn’t let you be.

And he knew you so well. Too well. He remembered every detail you ever mentioned, even offhand things you forgot you said. The little tells you gave when you were angry or sad or overwhelmed—he picked up on all of it. And then he learned to use it against you, in quiet, subtle ways that never felt like manipulation until it was already done.

If he wanted you to stay in the mansion longer, he’d appear right as you grabbed your coat and mention some “urgent” matter Integra needed handled—only for you to find out later she had no idea what he was talking about.

If he didn’t want you talking to a particular person, he’d say something offhanded, like, “Be careful with them,” in that calm, knowing tone that immediately put doubt in your stomach. It worked every time, and he knew it.

He never admitted to these things. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at you told the whole story.

And despite everything, there were moments where he’d soften. Completely. Like when he’d brush his thumb over your cheekbone after a long mission, or when he’d stand behind you and absently tuck your hair back just so he could see your face better. Those moments weren’t gentle because he was trying to comfort you—they were gentle because he was obsessed. Because he wanted every part of you close, touchable, reachable. Because he wanted to remind you that even when he was soft, it was still him holding you.

But the suffocating part—the part you could never quite get away from—was how he made himself essential. He’d tear down your fears with a single sentence. Destroy your doubts with reassurance. He made it easy to lean on him. Too easy. Then, when you inevitably did rely on him, he’d smile, slow and satisfied, like he’d been waiting for that exact moment.

And maybe he had.

Alucard’s obsession wasn’t loud or dramatic… it was creeping, inevitable. Overwhelming in a way that made your chest tighten. He didn’t just want to love you. He wanted to surround you, shape you, fold himself into every corner of your life until you couldn’t imagine a world without him.

That was what terrified you. And what kept you close.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

Anderson’s obsession didn’t start with a desire—it started with a purpose. Like he believed it to be duty. With him convincing himself that God had placed you in his path for a reason. At first, he treated you like any other soul to be guided, watched over, corrected when necessary. But it didn’t take long before that sense of duty morphed into something possessive, bordering on fanatic.

He became overly aware of you. Of the sound of your footsteps down the hall, of the way your voice softened when you spoke, of the kindness you showed others when you thought no one was looking. He told himself it was simply vigilance. A good priest always paid attention to the vulnerable.

But he wasn’t fooling anyone—not even himself. Not after the way his gaze lingered far too long. Not after the way his jaw clenched whenever someone else stood too close to you.

Now, Father Anderson wasn’t subtle, not as much as he believed to be. He didn’t hide the fact that he watched you. His stare was unblinking, almost suffocating. If he thought someone was a danger, or even a distraction, he stepped between you and them without a moments hesitation. A hand on your shoulder. A simple warning. Sometimes a not-so-quiet one. He didn’t care if he made people uncomfortable. He wasn’t here to make them comfortable.

His protectiveness became a cage before you realized it. He’d tell you when a mission was “too dangerous,” even if you’d been assigned to it. He’d show up uninvited, insisting it was unsafe for you to walk alone. He’d pull you aside when he thought your choices were unwise, lecturing with that intense mix of frustration and concern that left you speechless.

And the worst part? He made it sound logical. Holy. Right. As if stepping away from him would be stepping away from salvation itself.

His words were warm yet… heavy, filled with conviction that wrapped too tightly around your thoughts. He had a way of speaking to you that made you feel guilty for even considering defying him. You didn’t realize how deeply he’d worked his way into your mind until you found yourself justifying your actions to him before you even acted.

When he touched you, it was careful yet firm. A hand on your wrist to stop you from walking off. Fingers on your chin to make you look at him when he thought you weren’t listening. He claimed it was guidance. It felt more like ownership.

But then there were the soft moments—the ones that made everything more confusing. How he’d kneel in front of you to bandage a scrape, muttering under his breath about keeping you safe. How his voice dropped from booming authority to something almost tender when you were upset. How he’d look at you—not with lust, but with something far more suffocating… devotion.

A devotion that could burn.

Anderson didn’t love like a man. He loved like a crusade. Like a mission he couldn’t abandon, even if it destroyed both of you in the process.

You were his chosen purpose. His calling. His temptation and test.

And once he accepted that, his obsession settled into something that wouldn’t let up. Something holy and terrifying all at once. He wouldn’t let harm touch you. He wouldn’t let sin touch you. He wouldn’t let anyone touch you. And if anyone tried? Well… Alexander Anderson never hesitated when it came to cleansing evil. Even if that “evil” was simply someone standing too close to you.

[neferatii]

hi lovelies! i’m working on some requests right now, and i want to apologise for how slow it’s going! i have a few queued up to be posted very shortly! in the meantime, don’t be shy to request any more. just take a look at my page! 🤍

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my nsfw blog: @serapti

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— 𝕳𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝓜.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 !

( will be updated )

⠀♱ 𝔄𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐍/𝐀

⠀♱ 𝕴𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀

𝐍/𝐀

⠀♱ 𝕾𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒

𝐍/𝐀

⠀♱ 𝖂𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐍/𝐀

✞ 𝕬𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗑 𝖦𝖭!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖢𝖠𝖭𝖮𝖭𝖲)

[koresnymph]

My slightly nsfw sertegra piece is almost done. This may become a print on my shop

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HOLY

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i’m so obsessed with anderson its not even funny anymore.

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︵◞◟ ͜𓉯 ⠀⠀synopsis — husband!anderson x spouse 🫶

⠀།† ‧̍̊ ི ⠀⠀⠀⌣⌣ ⠀ cw — all fluff headcanons ♡ྀི

𓉳 ꕀ makes breakfast for you even if he’s terrible at it. eggs are overcooked, toast is slightly burnt, but he looks so proud that you just eat it anyway.

∔ ꕀ he doesn’t really say “i love you” often, but you can feel it. in the way he looks at you, the way his voice softens when he says your name.

𓉳 ꕀ he keeps something small of yours with him — a photo, a note, something you forgot about. it’s tucked into his Bible. he’ll never tell you.

∔ ꕀ he’s so bad with technology. will call you over to help him with his phone like “it’s not doing the thing,” and you just have to press unmute.

𓉳 ꕀ loves when you play with his hair, even if he pretends it’s a “distraction.” he’ll sit there with his eyes closed, pretending he’s not melting.

∔ ꕀ he’s always dressed properly, even around the house. shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled up, collar neat — meanwhile, you’re wandering around in one of his oversized shirts and he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

𓉳 ꕀ he’ll kiss your forehead before he leaves, every single time. even if he’s late, even if it’s just a quick peck on his way out the door.

∔ ꕀ arguments don’t happen often, but when they do, they’re quiet. he hates raising his voice. he’ll usually take a walk to calm down, then come back with flowers or tea as a peace offering.

𓉳 ꕀ if he ever gets tense, you can calm him by asking about the children he looked after. talking about them softens him like nothing else, and you love seeing that gentle smile.

[neferatii]

anderson content dropping soon . . .

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⏝◞⠀ྀི synopsis: thorkell has taken a liking to you.

⠀ ⨟ cw — fem!reader, fluff content, reader is apart of askeladd’s crew, 18+ reader, y/n context, thorkell has a big fat crush on you ♡

⠀ ࣪ › wordcount — i lost track

Subtlety was never Thorkell’s specialty. Not in the slightest. Not to say he was too overly grandiose and stupidly obvious with his gestures—no, forget that. He was obvious. Painfully blatant. For such a giant, terrifying man, he could be downright toddler-like at times. Endearing, really—and you only noticed it once the gestures started. The first thing he did was offer you a daffodil he’d plucked from a meadow. It came out of nowhere. His face carried this doe-like expression as his massive hand extended the delicate flower toward you. You took it, walking off with confusion tugging at your features.

Askeladd found the whole thing hilarious. He’d warned you often enough—being the only woman around, you were bound to be hit on by warriors who hadn’t felt a woman’s touch in years… or ever. A female warrior, but a capable one at that. It wasn’t something Thorkell had ever seen before.

Maybe that was why he was so captivated by you. Or perhaps it was your h/c hair, cascading in subtle waves down your back, with loose strands framing your war-scarred face. Or maybe it was the way your eyes caught the spring sunlight, gleaming bright. Or the way you sat in the grass, poised just so, sharpening your sword. How you spoke to Canute so gently.

In the short time you spent around Thorkell—alongside Askeladd, Thorfinn, Canute, and the others—you began to notice the little ways he behaved with you. The way he watched you, eyes fixed with a curious expression, as if he were observing something rare and precious—something entirely new to him. And if your eyes happened to meet his, he’d flash that daft grin—the kind that tugged at the corners of your lips. It was ridiculous, really, yet it still made your heart flutter, just as his did.

One afternoon, you sat on a tree stump, grumbling to yourself over something Askeladd had said. His teasing was nothing new, though at times it grated on you more than you cared to admit. Thorkell noticed. Before long, he was standing behind you, towering over your smaller frame, head tilted slightly and brows drawn as he studied your back.

Slowly, you turned your head, the corners of your lips tugging into a frown. Half horror, half surprise—whatever it was, your face betrayed it.

“What’s wrong?” Thorkell crouched down to your level, a soft pout on his face. This was how he communicated with you—clumsy, a little awkward—but by now, you’d grown used to it. “Was Askeladd mean to you?”

How were you supposed to respond? Your throat ran dry, and nothing was uttered for a good minute. Until something did. “Yeah. But he’s a bastard—through ‘n through.” You didn’t expect his next response. “I could squeeze him into a pulp for you.” “Please don’t.”

Endearing, yes. Mildly horrifying—also yes. That was Thorkell. His intentions with you were always pure, though often buried beneath the… little things. Like this. Then he flashed a small, almost quaint smile, and the nerves twisting in your stomach eased at once. For all his bloodshed and brutality, Thorkell gave you a sense of security—something you’d never truly known before.

And he wanted to show you the world. No matter how bloody it was, no matter how much he relished the thrill of war—he wanted to choose you above all of it.

He let out a hearty chuckle as his colossal hand landed on your head. His fingers nearly spanned the whole of it, and for a moment you half-worried he might crush you like a grape. But his touch was gentle—surprisingly so. Then he smiled, gaze warm and loving, nothing like the bloodthirsty grin you were so used to seeing on him. “You fascinate me.” “How so?”

“You’re too beautiful to be apart of all of this.”

His words caught you off guard, but they sank deep, tugging a small smile to your lips. Maybe he wasn’t all that terrifying after all.

“I want to show you a different world outside this.” “Where on earth is this all coming from, Thorkell.” “Let’s be husband and wife!”

Thorkell really needed to work on his blunt sense of humor. Still, the thought wasn’t so bad. Maybe—just maybe—you liked the idea.

“Hah, maybe, Thorkell.”

[neferatii]

⏝◞⠀ྀི synopsis: thorkell x gn!reader headcannons

⨟ cw — gender neutral reader, fluffy headcannons ♡ྀི

𓏴 ꕀ thorkell is massive compared to you, and he loves it. he’ll constantly compare your hands to his or just grab your whole face with one hand and laugh like he’s discovered something amazing.

𓏴 ꕀ super obvious with affection. he’ll throw an arm around you in front of everyone, toss you over his shoulder without warning, or just plop you down in his lap like you weigh nothing.

𓏴 ꕀ he’s not the best at “soft” gestures, but he tries in his own way. his version of comforting you is ruffling your hair, booming out that “everything’ll be fine!” and pulling you into one of his crushing hugs.

︵︵ sometimes thorkell gets so caught up in the chaos of a fight that he forgets just how scary he looks. you’ve had to tug on his sleeve more than once, reminding him to tone it down before he accidentally terrifies an ally. the first time you did it, he just blinked down at you and barked out a laugh. “scary, me? nah—look at this face!” he grinned wide, bloody and wild-eyed, and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “exactly,” you muttered.

𓏴 ꕀ no concept of personal space whatsoever. if he’s tired, he’s laying on top of you. if he’s excited, he’s scooping you up and spinning you around. if he wants your attention, he’ll literally block your view until you give it to him.

𓏴 ꕀ loves bragging about you to literally anyone who will listen. mercenaries, enemies, random farmers—doesn’t matter. they’ll know you exist and that thorkell thinks you’re the greatest thing alive.

𓏴 ꕀ he secretly likes when you fuss over his injuries. he’ll pretend it’s nothing, but deep down he melts when you scold him for being reckless while wrapping his wounds.

︵︵ after a long battle, thorkell finally flopped down on the grass beside you, groaning dramatically. “ahhh, i’m exhausted. but i fought well, didn’t i?” he turned his head toward you with a grin, expecting praise. when you only raised a brow and started dabbing at the cut on his cheek, his grin softened. he sat there, strangely quiet, watching you work. “…you’re real gentle, y’know that?” he rumbled, voice unusually low, before chuckling and tugging you into his chest.

[uramura]

I do not dream of a ‘career’. The only job I dream of is licking sweat off Integra’s skin with my tongue.