mshellimagines

[mshellimagines]

Hello sweeties!!

I just wanted to say that yes, I am alive! Life gets in the way sometimes and I have been pretty busy.

I will be answering things soon!

[mshellimagines]

OC Ideas: List of Quirks!

(BNHA)

Quirk Ideas below the cut <3

This is essentially just a huge, not really filtered list of ideas so please don’t take it… Too seriously lmao.

OC QUIRK IDEAS!

Acid Cure - The user has sharp fangs filled with a poison that can heal when injected.

Animorph - The user can transform into any animal they have physically seen and been in the proximity of for one minute.

Black Void - The user can summon a void that contains horror-like creatures and objects.

Chains - The user can produce chains made from the iron in their body.

Claws - The user’s hands are razor-sharp claws.

Command - Others will obey any order the user gives from speech.

Conceal - The user can turn themselves and anything they touch, like clothes, invisible; and can turn others invisible as long as the user is in physical contact with them.

Dark Matter - The user can manipulate indetectable matter and form it into void-like weapons.

Dreamwalker - The user can walk in the dreams of anyone they have seen.

Dust - The user can manipulate dust in the air.

Face Shift - The user is able to manipulate their body and face to be a new, nonexistent person.

False Truth - Any lie the user tells will be believed.

Fear Eyes - The user’s stare can incite hallucinations in another of their darkest fears.

Flaming Skin - The user’s body radiates a deadly heat in which anything the user touches will burst into flame.

Fusion - The user can fuse two individuals to create a whole new person for up to an hour. The two minds may clash, however—and the quirks are combined into just one new one.

Gravity Well - The user can create localized gravity wells, pulling objects or people towards a single point. The strength and range of the gravity well depend on the user's focus.

Hallucination - The user can create illusions that disappear when touched.

Healing Hair - The user’s hair can heal almost any injury.

Identity - The user can transform into any living person they have touched before for up to thirty minutes.

Interface - The user can control and manipulate machines and electronics by interfacing with them mentally, allowing them to hack devices, control robots, or operate advanced technology without physically touching it.

Lava Lamp - Parts of the user’s body have the characteristics of a lava lamp.

Light and Dark - The user can generate light when experiencing positive emotions and darkness when experiencing negativity.

Liquid Composition - The user can transform into semi-solidified water to move around.

Magma - Part of the user’s body is composed of lava that is generated.

Matter Hair - The user can change the composition of their hair to be any reasonable solid element on the periodic table.

Metallic Grip - The user can turn their arm and leg composition into any (reasonable) metal in existence.

Mitosis - The user can split themselves into two people, themself and a distinct, separate person, like an alter ego, that they also control. More splits may occur, resulting in different individuals.

Photosynthesis - The user has the properties of a plant.

Polyglot - The user is able to speak, read, and write every language they hear spoken or see written.

Prosper - Since developing this quirk, the user is unable to age and stays the physical age of five.

Shadow Beasts - The user can transform darkness into solid, shadow beasts.

Shadow Body - The user can turn themselves into a cloud of shadow and can manipulate shadows around them, turning them into solid objects.

Sharp Wings - The user has wings made of a razor-sharp steel that can cut through almost anything.

Siren’s Call - The user’s singing voice incites a burning rage in others, causing mayhem and destruction.

Size Shift - The user can shrink down to 1/50 times their normal size or grow up to 50 times their normal size in a range.

Slime - The user can create a corrosive, jelly-like substance from their hair.

Spindle/Marionette - The user can spin silk from their wrists. As a unique touch, these strings can wrap around living beings and influence their body completely—movement control, as though people are puppets.

Spines - The user has large, shark-tooth-like spines on their arms, legs, sides, and head.

Stare-way to Hell - The user’s stare can ignite objects or people on fire if the user is angry enough.

String of Fate - The user can know the location of anyone they have seen and fallen in love with.

Succubus - The user’s presence causes others to become enchanted by them. They also have the features of a succubus or incubus.

Toxic Blood - The user’s blood is rich with a deadly poison that can kill when ingested by someone else.

Vampire - The user has superhuman strength, speed, and beauty with the ability to captivate others at will, but has to drink blood in order to keep their abilities and to live and can not go out in the sun.

Virus - The user can grow tendrils from their body and stab them into others, which enables the victims to be dazed and in shock for up to fifteen minutes and use part of the same quirk, inflicting others.

Werewolf - The user can transform into a wolf-like creature.

[mshellimagines]

I’m curious… What would you think of Alexander Anderson x Vampire!Reader ? I think the dynamic could be interesting

Hello there!! Thanks for the ask. I’m not sure if this is an opinion or not so I’ll format it a bit differently than my others!

Writer’s Musings: I imagine the reader here (?) as a vampire who’s anything but bloodthirsty. Maybe they’re a reluctant creature of the night, someone who would rather die than harm another living soul. They’d probably view their own existence as a burden—a painful reminder of what they’ve become and the monster they feel they are. A vampire like that might even want to destroy their own kind, as if wiping out the rest of their kind could somehow redeem them. It’s a tragic, poetic goal, one that might even catch the attention of someone as devout and steadfast as Alexander Anderson, maybe To be honest I feel like that’s… The only way this would work? I’ve been thinking about it and the other option would be a devout vampire, but I don’t want to headcanon the actual READER Y’know so I’m going to go with the reluctance idea! It suits most people..right?? :’) I too hate it when writers don’t make it about the damn reader LOL, unfortunately I do have to improvise a bit for this one so I hope you understand!

Alexander Anderson x Reluctant!Vampire Story Headcanons

You didn’t think he’d hesitate upon seeing you, especially since he’s known to be merciless with vampires. His eyes are sharp, piercing through you as if searching for something beyond the surface.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t attack right away. Instead, he just watches, curious, as you barely lift a hand in defense, almost as if you’re resigned to your fate.

“Are you not going to fight?” he asks, his voice laced with a mix of contempt and something else… perhaps pity? You tell him you don’t want to hurt anyone and that you despise what you are.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer. “A vampire who loathes itself… now that’s something I’ve never seen.”

Anderson doesn’t lower his weapon, but he doesn’t strike either. Instead, he seems almost intrigued, demanding to know why you continue to exist if your existence brings you so much pain.

You tell him, simply, that death doesn’t come easily to creatures like you. That, despite your wish to disappear, you are bound to this miserable form, cursed to wander a world that doesn’t need you.

His eyes soften just a bit, though his stance remains firm. It’s clear he’s struggling with the idea of sparing a vampire, even one who despises their own nature.

You didn’t think he’d understand your desire to destroy other vampires, but he listens as you explain. You want to rid the world of the monsters that haunt it��even if that means starting with yourself.

“A vampire that hunts its own kind…” he murmurs, a glimmer of respect in his gaze. “Perhaps God’s mercy extends even to cursed souls willing to atone.”

Surprisingly, he offers to let you prove yourself. If you’re truly set on destroying other vampires, he says, then he won’t stand in your way. But he warns that any sign of betrayal will mean your swift end.

From that day on, he watches you like a hawk. Each time you confront a fellow vampire, he’s there, standing in the shadows, silently judging your every move.

You didn’t expect to feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. His unwavering faith, his strength, even his disdain—it grounds you in a way you never thought possible.

Oddly enough, he seems to develop a reluctant respect for you. Perhaps it’s because you fight with a desperation, a painful earnestness he’s rarely seen in any creature, let alone a vampire.

He starts to see you as less of a monster and more of a tragic figure, a soul trapped in a body you never wanted, fighting a battle you believe you can never truly win.

You didn’t think he’d ever offer words of comfort, but one night, after a particularly grueling hunt, he tells you, “There is strength in repentance… even for those who think themselves beyond saving.”

His words resonate with you, giving you a strange sense of hope, as if, just maybe, your fight has meaning beyond the bloodshed.

You never imagined someone like him—a paladin, sworn to eradicate vampires—would come to care for you, even in his own stern, reserved way.

But with each passing encounter, it’s clear that he does, despite his best efforts to deny it. He sees your struggle, your pain, and maybe, just maybe, a part of him wants to see you redeemed.

And though you don’t believe you deserve his compassion, you feel an odd sense of peace when he’s near, as if his presence alone is a reminder that maybe, there is still hope—even for a monster like you.

[mshellimagines]

Lady Nagant x gn reader? 🥺 i see her in your pfp and I think it’d be nice! either story or headcanons is fine

OF COURSE you may!! I love writing for my “wife�� and I am so thrilled you asked! This might be a bit later than anticipated but I hope you enjoy love <3

Kaina my beloved…

Lady Nagant & S/O Headcanons

Protective but Subtle: Lady Nagant doesn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve. She’s a woman of few words, but her actions speak volumes. You might not even notice at first, but she always positions herself in a way that keeps you safe. Whether you're out in a crowd or walking down an empty street at night, she naturally takes on a protective role, subtly guiding you to her less vulnerable side, always watching, always vigilant.

Eyes Like a Hawk: Her sharp senses make her hyper-aware of everything around you. She notices little things before you do—if you’re shivering, if you're distracted, or if someone nearby seems suspicious. She’ll casually drape her jacket over your shoulders or place herself between you and potential danger without even thinking about it. Her protective instincts are second nature.

Walls Up, Slowly Breaking Down: Trust doesn’t come easily to her, and you respect that. She’s been through things she rarely speaks of, so she guards herself fiercely. But over time, as you offer her unspoken patience and kindness, she starts letting you in. The first time she tells you something personal about her past, she watches you carefully, gauging your reaction. When you accept her without judgment, she relaxes, even if just a little.

Late-Night Conversations: It’s often during the quietest hours that she opens up the most. In the stillness of the night, she feels safe enough to talk, her voice barely above a whisper. You’ll find her telling you about missions she regrets, decisions that still haunt her, and dreams that feel distant. You listen, offering a comforting presence that doesn’t ask for more than she’s willing to share.

Soft Smiles Reserved for You: Lady Nagant isn’t someone who smiles often, but with you, it’s different. You catch those rare, soft smiles that make her seem a little less like the stoic sniper and more like the woman behind the mask. Sometimes, you’ll crack a joke or make a silly face just to coax a grin out of her, and it’s always worth it when you succeed.

Physical Affection Takes Time: She’s not used to being touched, at least not in a gentle way. The first time you reach for her hand, she hesitates, looking at you with a flicker of vulnerability. But once she’s comfortable, you find her fingers brushing against yours more often, her hand lingering a second longer than necessary. Little touches mean a lot to her, even if they seem casual to anyone else.

Acts of Service: Lady Nagant isn’t big on grand romantic gestures, but she’s constantly doing little things for you. She fixes anything that’s broken, always keeps an eye on your surroundings, and even teaches you a few self-defense techniques “just in case.” You know it’s her way of showing she cares, even if she’d never say it outright.

Training Together: She insists on teaching you how to protect yourself. It starts as a practical lesson, but it becomes something you both enjoy. She’s patient and encouraging, guiding your hands into proper stances and showing you how to defend yourself with calm precision. Sometimes, she’ll tease you lightly if you miss a step, her eyes softening as you laugh and try again.

Quiet Affection: She’s not someone who’ll shower you with words of love, but she’ll do things that say more than words ever could. You’ll find her leaving little notes reminding you to stay safe, or she’ll quietly place things she knows you need where you’ll see them. Her love language is all about the small things—things that make you feel seen and cared for.

A Shoulder to Lean On (Literally): When she’s exhausted from a mission, she lets herself rest with you. She’ll sit beside you and let her guard down, resting her head on your shoulder or letting you hold her hand. In these moments, she feels like a weight has been lifted, even if just for a little while. With you, she doesn’t have to be the strong, unbreakable hero.

Watching the Stars: Sometimes, you’ll find her gazing up at the sky, lost in thought. She invites you to join her, and you sit together in comfortable silence, watching the stars. It’s a simple act, but it means a lot. In these quiet moments, she’s reminded of the beauty in the world and why she keeps going.

Conflicted About Her Past: You can tell she struggles with guilt and regret over her past actions. Sometimes, it hits her hard, and she distances herself, afraid of letting her darkness touch you. But you’re patient, reminding her that everyone has shadows and that she deserves a second chance. Your reassurance is like an anchor, pulling her back when she feels lost.

Gentle Moments of Comfort: Lady Nagant isn’t great with words when it comes to comforting others, but she does her best. If she sees you upset, she’ll sit beside you, her hand finding yours, squeezing gently. She might not say much, but her presence is solid, grounding you in a way only she can.

Mutual Respect and Admiration: She admires your kindness, your patience, and your strength, even if she doesn’t say it outright. You can feel her respect in the way she listens to you, values your opinions, and remembers the little things you say. She’s always been a lone wolf, but with you, she realizes that trusting someone else can make her stronger, not weaker.

Hidden Playfulness: Despite her serious demeanor, she has a quiet playfulness that only comes out with you. Maybe she’ll tease you about your aim or poke fun at you during training. The playful glint in her eyes catches you off guard, but it’s a side of her you adore and encourage every chance you get.

An Anchor in the Chaos: She’s constantly on edge, always anticipating the next mission or the next threat. But with you, she finds a sense of peace she hasn’t known in years. When she’s with you, the world feels a little less dangerous, and she can let herself relax, even if only for a moment. You’re her safe place, the one constant in her otherwise chaotic life.

Fear of Losing You: She’d never admit it, but the thought of losing you terrifies her. She’s lost so much, and sometimes, she wonders if she’s even worthy of the happiness she finds with you. But whenever you reassure her, whether it’s with words, a gentle touch, or a lingering look, she finds herself clinging to hope a little more.

A Soft Goodbye: Every time she has to leave for a mission, there’s a quiet sadness in her eyes. She never says much, just a simple “Stay safe” or “I’ll be back soon,” but you both know the weight behind it. She doesn’t make promises she can’t keep, but there’s an unspoken vow between you—a promise to return, to find each other again, no matter what.

[mshellimagines]

May I request a yandere Alexander Anderson from hellsing

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

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

Yandere!Alexander Anderson x Reader

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

It was him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then came the night when everything changed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mshellimagines]

Is it okay if I request a yandere captain from hellsing

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

Yandere!Captain x reader

It began with his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

The Captain was not a man of simple curiosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mine.”

[mshellimagines]

Masterlist

Headcanons: Open!

Scenarios: Open!

OC Ideas: Always Open

TO DO LIST: 7 & Counting

(If there’s a fandom you want to see here lmk!! I currently write for anything below, as well as DC & Comics in general~)

I CAN DO:

- Imagines

- Headcanons

- Writing Memes/etc

- Original Character Ideas

- Scenarios

I WILL NOT DO:

- Anything Illegal. (Way to state the obvious.)

- Yandere Imagines are CLOSED as of now.

Hellsing Ultimate

- Yandere!Captain x reader - https://www.tumblr.com/revveyimagines/760703110764216320/

- Yandere!Alexander Anderson x reader - https://www.tumblr.com/revveyimagines/760704208325558272/

- Alexander Anderson x Reluctant!Vampire (Story-style) Headcanons - https://www.tumblr.com/revveyimagines/766462586896187392/

My Hero Academia

- Big List of Quirk Ideas! - https://www.tumblr.com/revveyimagines/766514917790629888/

- Lady Nagant & S/O Headcanons - https://www.tumblr.com/revveyimagines/766005601809661952/

~