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quiteliterallyilliterate · 3 months

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Could you write a yandere FD where reader finds his mask and accidentally frees him? I find the idea of him stalking reader after his freedom and reader being helpless to get help due to what he is.

Order up!

There really isn’t enough FD stuff (that isn’t smut) ((but also in general)) So here you go!

Edit: Part 2

tw: yandere, murder, slaughter of animals, blood/gore

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The deity despised what he had come to. A being of such pure power, capable of ripping Termina away from Hyrule thread by thread, was now bound to not much more than a piece of wood. The feeble fears of incapable gods now made a mockery of who and what he was. His prison was bleached and painted with the same war patterns that defined his godliness with the eyes empty for its wearer. Two blank spots —weak spots— in the mask. For when they bound his form to such fragility, there was something of a loophole left behind. The hallowed eyes allowed the wearer to see, and believe they had some control over their actions as his consciousness began to muddle with their own. You see, within the mask there were no holes allowing them —the wearer— to breathe. Because while they wore the mask, likeness of his own face, they didn’t realise the rotting wood begin to mingle with their skin. None of them did. Too hungry for more of the power he could provide and blood he could spill they hardly realized what they were becoming. The paint was always the first to merge with the new wearer, the pigments staining the skin as a faint, ever fading —but never truly gone— reminder of what he was. The hair came next. Silvery white strands mixing with their own around their fringe, framing their face, much similar to his own now. Last was the eyes. Not many kept the mask long enough to ever really hand themselves fully over to him, but his conscience would continue to invade nonetheless. No one held the power to hold him captive in their minds, so a corpse they were rendered. Their eyes would lose their iris, and as the wearer weakened, their eyes would become vast pools of stark white. He heard in the travelers’ wisdom that eyes were the doorway to the soul. Perhaps that was why the eyes were the last part of a person he was bled into. His final act to them was conquering their souls. Where once, double helix sword in hand, he would have slain any thing —living or otherwise— where once he could’ve conquered anything, now he was left to the slow trickle of energy from collected souls.

He’s first made aware of you by your gentle touch. You fingers cup the edge of his face —what was of it now anyway— and attempt to make sense of who it was you were looking at. Perhaps is was they no longer worshipped him in Termina. Centuries could slip by him in this form and he’d not know better. Hand in hand with that, the paint on his mask could very well be greyed and chipped beyond recognition. Immortality was always more faulty than the mortals made it seem. While boredom could be sated with bloodshed and war, it was aging that couldn’t be so simply ignored. Despite the fact his consciousness was as it was from the second he was bound into what he was, it didn’t stop the wood from rotting nor the paint from chipping and fading. Much he was like the warrior constellations in the sky. While consistent across the birth and death of many civilizations, slowly he died with them. Not in the final splatter of blood like the matter of mortality, but it was death in all the way that matters. Perhaps Hylia proved that you can kill a god. Sure, she may have ‘killed’ demise, but cyclically, he was still her tormentor. With Fierce, his form was weak. Too weak to hold him further. Much like the mortals who believed they could shoulder the weight, this form would too crack and rot beneath the earth. His point still stood that in spite of every possible factor that your serenity shouldn’t have met with his ruthlessness, you’d defied fate nonetheless.

By your grace he loved to watch you. Mounted on the fireplace, he could see everything in your tiny cabin. He could watch you cook food for yourself, sing as you cleaned the dishes afterward, and especially the fact you often would fall asleep on the couch meant he could spend even longer admiring the curves of your face. You were incomparably precious to the world. He remembers the days of his youth in divinity, freshly given his purpose. He’d killed many in those days, like an executioner who’s axe discriminated against none. The worship he once had, the temples he’d once been graced with, the concubines left for him… Perhaps he wanted more than to watch you. Being so close to what he wanted, truly wanted, made him antsy. And you’d live through life like you’d not known better. You’d talk to people where he couldn’t monitor to keep you safe, you’d leave the protection he offered. He’d long for you while you sat just out of reach, tempting him to try something. And so he did. It seems years of rot made the wood fragile.

You were honestly quite disappointed the mask had broke. The wood was splintered across the floor, and with how old it was, it really wasn’t worth saving. Still, you collected the bits from across the floor and kept moving. The forest was still and quiet as you traveled, the wind would whistle in the trees and a murder of crows crowded around you. Unfortunately, you had no bread or shinies to spare aside from a small green rupee, which they normally would’ve cawed and kicked around. Instead, their beady eyes watched you, huddled high in the trees as you waded through the forest. You could feel their eyes on you the whole way past.

The dead animals on your doorstep are not only mildly concerning, given their split open ribs, but incredibly creepy the longer it goes on. Clearly whoever was doing this was stubbornly persistent given their notes in a not very decipherable language. At first they left you a crow, the day they watched you. It had a small ring in its leg you didn’t bother to touch. The next was a badger, followed by fox, then an elk. Now, it was entirely beyond you who’d collect that many animals carcasses —you’d doubted they were hunted, given the large lacerations across their torsos— but it wasn’t much flattering. It wasn’t until you’d caved and cooked one of the elks and they’d kept giving you more that you’d considered they were trying to feed you. Sweet as that was, no one person had a use for that much elk. No one person could hunt that much elk. No person would see it right to draw a sigil in blood on the back wall of someone’s house in elk blood. No one person would help you.

You were still beautiful as you slept. He was glad now you were his spouse, though it did take you a while to get used to his courting. It was for the best though, you were well fed and protected now, more than any mortal man could hope to provide you with. He did enjoy killing all your other suitors. That tradition was always entertaining.

#linked universe #yandere fierce deity link x reader #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity x you #lu fierce deity x reader #yan!fierce deity

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mishwanders · 10 months

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• Fierce Deity • Mine •

Summary: The Fierce Deity finds himself completely enamored with you and wants a taste of what it would be like to have you.

Warnings: Sacreligious smut on the altar of an old temple because, yes. Minors DNI with this one.

Author’s Notes: He’s rotting my brain y’all - do not help me, I want to be here lmao. Written by Mishwanders. Do not take or repost it anywhere as your own.

There was an ache that the Fierce Deity felt, an open wound in him that only eternity could make and see. Love for someone other than the good of the people was not anything he thought he’d ever get to experience, considering his curse and constantly being forgotten to the passage of time after he’d done his job for whoever possessed his mask. But you were a different creature entirely. When you came into possession of him, he found that you actually enjoyed his presence versus the others that would turn and run in fear of the absolute divine power that radiated off of him like a furnace. You always took his opinions into consideration before action, unlike those who threw themselves into battle without giving it a second thought. You showed him absolute care when you tended to his wounds or the chipped paint of his mask. He knew you were special from the beginning, someone he knew that he would only meet once in a lifetime. He wanted to protect that, cherish it as much as he could.

But there were other things that the deity wanted.

Craved, even.

There was a time when you once dawned on his mask and he was able to take in all of the details of you. It was the way your brows furrowed in line with his, the way you swung the sword with him, the way your heart hammered in your chest with the thrill of the fight. It was as if for a second his immortal soul was intertwined with yours, as if you were made for each other. It was something he had yet to experience with any wielder of his power up until that point.

It was from then on that he began to pay even closer attention to the details of you. Between the way your body moved, to the way you said his name, the way you smelled, even to the way you looked at him, he couldn’t help but crave every inch of you, wanting to experience that feeling of his soul dancing with yours again, but without the threat of losing yourself in his curse.

There were a variety of ways that he knew how to do this, but one he was more apt to consider, to think about, to allow his mind to wander to. He wanted you carnally, wholly, to be his.

He knew he shouldn’t be allowing the thoughts to invade his mind so often, but goddesses, there were times where he couldn’t fight it. He never acted on them, but he could help but think about having you in his arms in the quiet intimate moments or having you pressed flush against a surface as he ravaged you with so much desire that he knew he could easily have you screaming his name in a matter of seconds.

This little tango of courtship didn’t help in that endeavor either, it was a vicious reminder of his place next to you and continued to spur more ideas, more thoughts he found himself pondering over. He thought about how your skin would feel against his, how your voice would tip low in pleasure, how your lips would taste on his. He wanted to know what it would be like to have you in such a state that the two of you felt as if you were the only ones in existence, the only ones that mattered for such a small period of time.

And to his surprise, he would get that wish fulfilled in the most unlikely of ways.

When you’d finally decided to make your move in, you decided that you wouldn’t have him like any old lover, bound to a bed in a room that would so quickly be forgotten. No, you would have him some place where the holy met the earth, intertwined like lovers lost to time.

“Will you be mine?” You asked, so innocently as your voice echoed through the old stone temple walls.

The Fierce Deity looked at you as if he’d been waiting for you to speak those words for all of the eternity he had lived. He stepped closer to you, and you found yourself backed into the altar, your hands gently pinned to the surface by his own as leaned in close and said, “You will be mine.”

You wouldn’t shy away from his lustful gaze, but would proudly be laid before him, like a willing sacrifice to his fierce love on an altar in a temple forgotten by all except for nature and the divine. Your heart would beat like a drum in your ears while your voice bounced off of the old stone walls, like a chorus of angels reaching his ears as he knelt before you, raveging the space between your thighs, giving into the desires, the hunger, the carnal need to taste you, to savor every last second of this moment and every last drop of you on his tongue.

And he would have you over and over again until he knew you were satisfied, drunk on the pleasure he could provide. The fact that you were so willing to allow him to succumb to his own desires as well was just the tipping point for him.

From the taste of your release on his tongue, to the touch of your hands entangled and pulling at his hair, to your nails dragging across his scared back and adding more to his mixture of pain and pleasure, to the delightfully warm sensation of you wrapped around his cock, taking him so willingly as he had your legs pressed to your burning chest, your bare back against the cold stone - he found himself so completely enamored. He watched as you became so drunk on bliss and pleasure, so lost in it and in his eyes that he couldn’t help but find himself crashing into the feeling too and becoming so utterly lost in the pleasure as well.

But he didn’t mind being lost, for he knew you would always guide him back. He knew you would keep him from drowning in it alone, whether that be by the sound of his name mixed with moans spilling out past your lips or by the taste of a hungry kiss. He loved the feeling of your body against his, the way you intertwined in so many different ways with his, how nicely his cock slid inside of you, the sound of his hips colliding with your body, the way you shuddered in response, the grip of your nails in his biceps, the sting of your teeth on his lip, every gasp and moan, every cry of pleasure as you road the waves of pure ecstasy from him again and again.

It was more than enough to push him over the edge again, more than enough to keep him there as he released inside of you, feeling overwhelmed by everything that was you. Only then did he realize he’d crashed into you, his forehead having settled on yours as he tried to regain himself from the waves of pleasure. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with more adoration than he ever felt worthy of. You then smiled and said -

“You are mine.”

#spicy writing: fierce deity #lu fierce deity #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity x you #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fanfic #loz fic #loz fanfic #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda x you #Spotify #mdni #lu x reader

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monpalace · 1 year

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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.

content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.

warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.

notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?

i'll eat them. omnom

LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.

When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.

(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)

(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)

It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.

Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.

He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.

Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).

What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.

When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.

(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)

(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)

A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.

He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.

During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.

The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.

He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.

The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.

You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.

You'd already given him a large snack earlier.

The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.

He takes a bite of it gratefully.

"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."

You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.

"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.

"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"

Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.

He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.

He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.

Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.

You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)

Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.

He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.

Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.

ARAM is often humbled in your abode.

He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.

He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).

Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.

He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.

Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.

("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."

(You never had the heart to ask again.)

He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.

His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.

It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.

It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.

When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.

He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.

He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.

Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.

The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.

He craves more.

The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.

Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.

He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.

You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.

He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.

You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.

"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"

He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.

He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.

(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)

(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)

Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.

You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."

"Did I look ill before?"

You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.

The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.

"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."

And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.

He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."

#there's a mental health stat for link in oot/mm now.#the only way to keep it up (and him in good shape) is to go back and visit his s/o's house often and interact with them <3 #(you are immediately entered into one of those cutscenes with the grandma that tells the story of the giants from majoras mask-- but instead #of only telling you stories; you get to watch them do domestic things)#unless sky and wind have some photos dropped that reveal they have fat cheeks 2 im never doing this again #i am my oc. my ocs love language is food. i cannot cook.#elvira's notebook #legend of zelda x reader #loz x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #ocarina of time x reader #majora's mask x reader #mm x reader #x reader #link x reader #fierce deity x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda fierce deity x reader #loz fierce deity x reader #linked universe link x reader #lu link x reader #linked universe fierce deity x reader #lu fierce deity x reader #time x reader #legend of zelda time x reader #loz time x reader #linked universe time x reader #lu time x reader

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miharuki · 6 months

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🌟I have perfect request for you… I would like a Fierce Deity Link! BEN Drowned with Hylia! Goddess! Female Y/N🌟 (I love this so much, have a wonderful day/night!💜)

For this request, let's do a few things. Let's say that you are not Zelda, or a reincarnation of Hylia or Zelda (who is a reincarnation of Hylia), but the Hylia herself. Here are some headcanons and a mini story (if you like it, I might be able to turn it into a series).

Remembering that my English is not perfect, I feel a lot :v Also, I only did the fierce deity link one because I missed the Ben drowned one, so I'm sorry too

Your wish is an order!

𝕱𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝕳𝖞𝖑𝖎𝖆! 𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘! 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Fierce Deity Link:

—being the deity himself, Fierce would have a greater respect for you, let's say he respects you more than any other deity.

—I believe Fierce would be somewhat doubtful if you wanted to have a relationship with him. He would be questioning why, like, "She is literally a goddess, one of the creators of this land I'm standing on!! And she simply wants to go out with me?!"

—but let's say Fierce is also a deity, he would also be wondering why you would be dating someone like him when there are better options (it's not insecurity, just doubt). Something like, "She is the freaking creator of this land and she wants to go out with me, me? I'm not even at the feet of a goddess like her."

—A softie, I believe he would be as affectionate as possible, trying to make you feel comfortable in some way. He would also prioritize your safety, even if you know how to fight (let's say you do), he would still protect you and be concerned, even if you are stronger than him (because you're a goddess XD).

—The type of attentive person, for sure. Let's say you're telling a story about something that happened, he'll be listening to every detail. If you ask if you're talking too much, he'll say something like, "Your voice is too precious, I'd feel like trash if I didn't adore listening to you every second you speak," all with that sexy look and a gentle smile.

—Speaking of sexy... I believe Fierce is the kind of person who would take things slow, if you know what I mean. He doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to feel good. He finds your body stunning, in his words, "There's nothing to fear, angel, your body is a paradise to look at," all with a husky voice.

—I believe he's a waist man, so at any moment, he might come up from behind and grab you by the waist, just to rest his chin on your head.

—In terms of height, I believe he's quite tall, and when I say tall, I mean really tall. So, he kind of loves that you're smaller compared to him, of course, with the respect that you're practically a goddess, but he just finds your height adorable and won't accept any complaints about it.

—I imagine him picking you up by the waist and lifting you to his head, for you to sit and for him to feel his head between your thighs, nothing sexual, just adorable.

"You had me worried!" said the armored man as he held your shoulders, shaking them in despair. "I told you I'd be fine, you don't need to worry," you replied."But your safety is so important to me, what would I do if I lost you?" he says, sighing as he stood up and removed his hands from your shoulders, looking down. "You know I can very well protect you," you reply.

"Yes, I know, but you also know I'm strong enough to protect myself, that was nothing," you say as you approach the boy.

"Even so, I still don't like knowing that you could get hurt at any moment... it's just..." He can't finish the sentence, hugging you as he puts his head on your neck, taking a deep breath.

"Just be careful next time, please," he says, letting go, making you smile as you run your hand down his back, returning the hug.

"I will."

"I love you," he says as he steps back, looking into your eyes while placing a hand on your cheek, smiling as his cheeks turn pink.

"I love you too, Fierce," you reply.

#★𝕱𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖐 #★𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖅𝖊𝖑𝖉𝖆 #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity #linked universe #loz link #legend of zelda #tloz #goddess hylia #zelda #princess zelda #loz dark link #link x reader #link x you #yandere fierce deity link

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ninelieswithme · 10 months

Text

𝑨 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝙸𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎..) 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎.

𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘..

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎~.

𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎~.

𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎’𝚜.

“𝐎𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈’𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭”.

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎..

“𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞… 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏-“ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘’𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑’𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.

“𝐎𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐡𝐚 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐲” 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑.

“𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧- 𝐀𝐇𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆!” 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢��𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜..

“𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤’𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫…”

“𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬… 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐙𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒.”

“𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡… 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲/𝐧 𝐈’𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢’𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠.”

“𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?!?..”

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝.

“𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞.. 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭? 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞” 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚍.

𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚔..

𝙾𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙾𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚑𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚢.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎’𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕’𝚜.

𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎..

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝙿𝚝 𝟸 <𝟹 ..............

𝙸𝚖 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚕𝚣 😂, 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 🫶

193 notes · View notes

smallestapplin · 10 months

Text

I was just thinking about it.

Imagine you travel with the Fierce deity, this bulking demon god who acts as your protector, and helps you fight.

He rarely speaks, but you say you got a good read in his subtle body language. You’d also say you love to tease him and get on his nerves a lot.

Whether that’s stupid stunts, or making dumb jokes.

But you couldn’t help but grin at him as he glares at you.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” Your voice smug in your declaration.

Only for a sharp gasp to leave you as he corners you to a tree, the rough bark against your back not even phasing you, as you focus purely on the over 7ft man bending over you.

Caging you between him and the tree.

Bending over to be eye level with you.

“So what if I do?” His deep, gravely voice ringing in your ears.

He tilts his head to the side, his nose just barely brushing against yours as he gets closer to your face.

Those empty eyes of his glowing in the setting sun.

He smirks, chuckling softly before standing back to his full height and walking back to camp.

Leaving you gasping for air and stunted.

You can feel your face burning, and your heart pounding against your chest.

By the goddesses you want that man.

#legend of zelda x you #legend of zelda x reader #loz x reader #loz fierce deity #loz fierce deity x reader #legend of zelda fierce deity x reader #loz fd x reader #he’s all I’ve been thinking about rn #he’s all I want and more #fierce deity x reader

157 notes · View notes

luimagines · 2 years

Note

Oh thank you! That man has had a choke hold on me for years, can I ask for just fierce deity with a s/o who likes calling him pretty and just all around compliments? Im sure he isn’t use to affection and praise like this, and I’m a simp-

.....Yes, you can. I already know what to do. Just watch.

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You were... strange, the deity thought. And not necessarily in a bad way, just... different.

“Good morning, handsome!” You called after him when he returned to the camp. He had finished making his rounds around their perimeter and had come back at last. Everyone was awake and waiting for their champion to finish cooking so that may eat for the morning.

He looked your way in acknowledgement but he wasn’t sure what to make it.

You had instantly taken a liking to him, something he wasn’t used to, and had insisted on raining flattery in his direction at any and every waking moment. Mostly at times when he least expected it.

He nods, unsure of the appropriate reaction.

The boys look at him wearily. Even his old host still had trouble looking him in the eye. He supposes that’s one reason why he’s gotten attached to you so quickly. You don’t seem to mind how he towers over the group or how he doesn’t emote. You were content.

In return, he allows you to chatter his ear off or to hang off of him when you get bored. You don’t weight much to his supernatural strength. You seem to enjoy the way he can lift you with ease and not break a sweat. And with one arm no less.

“Did you have a nice walk?” You saunter up to him and place yourself right next to him.

He nods once more. What would happen if he scared you off? Or should he do something that would push you away? The Deity refuses to consider such things.

“Good!” You reply with a blinding smile. “I’m glad. We were thinking about traveling to the east today and seeing if we can track down the monsters that seem to be congregating near a town.”

He nods once more, hanging onto your words. The youngest, bless him, comes up to him as well. He would be second to be the least afraid of him. However, the other boys pull him away and he feeds off of their anxious energy. The deity wonders if it has shaped the way the boy sees him.

He reaches out to ruffle his hair and he smiles back at him. The deity allows himself to smile back and he hears you gasp by his side.

“Look at that!” You grin. “The very sun itself has blessed us on this day!”

“Oh please.” The one called ‘Wind’ rolls his eyes.

“You’re just as dazzling as a diamond.” You continue. “Who would have thought you looks so pretty when you smile?”

The deity can feel himself lose his control on the situation. This is too much. Why would you say that? How does he respond to that? Are you like this everyone else?

“Do it again!” You grab onto his arm and swing it around. “Come on, pretty boy, please?”

He can’t help but scoff. Now he knows you’re just toying with him. Still... he can’t get mad at the thought when you’re arguably the most adorable of the group. Besides... the attention is nice. It feels good to be acknowledges in ways other than his destructive nature.

He smiles softly again at your request and you look like you’re won the biggest prize at the fair.

“How come you entertain them?” The youngest pouts. “I could have asked you the same thing and you wouldn’t have done anything.”

The deity can’t help but to laugh. The group freezes at the sound. It’s the first time he’s made a sound. Shaking his head, he bends at the knee and looks The Hero of Winds in the eyes to the best ability that he can.

“I am capable of a great deal of violence that this world no longer needs me to extend.” He says. His deep voice booms in the otherwise quiet camp. It command attention even though he is speaking at a relatively quiet volume. From the corner of his eye, he sees you pause, go red in the face and sit yourself down.

Strange, he’ll figure that out later.

“However-” He continues and smiles more openly. “They amuse me. How could I not amuse them in return?”

Wind bite his lip and sighs. He continues to pout. “Not fair.”

“It’s completely fair.” He chuckles. The deity turns to you and smirks. “Right, Gorgeous?”

You begin to look at everything but him with a deliciously red face and he thinks he’s figured something out.

You cough and bite your lip. “...Yes. Agreed.”

The deity continues to smirk. “Perfect.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #Fierce Deity x reader #I've gotten a lot of FD and First content #have you guys noticed yet? XD #I'm trying to get all the one shots out of the way while working on three headcanon posts and just going down the list of boys #I've got like four or five done #then when most if not all of the one shots are done #I'll return to our regular programming of splitting up the asks

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pinkalmondcake · 9 months

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IM SCREAMING

GUYS KWNWKWJWO ??? HE'S SO EXTRA AND IM DROOLING- LIKE DAMN, SOME OF THE SHIT HE SAID GOT ME GROWLING-

#link x you #legend of zelda #link #linked universe #loz link #link x reader #loz #link loz #lu fierce deity #fierce deity x reader #fierce diety link #fierce deity

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dreaming-of-lu · 1 year

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I am hugging the shit out of your fierce deity in my head rn he deserves the best things in life

Thank you! He def does and he appreciates your hug!

#.bea's art #fierce deity x reader #100 followers doodle event #thank you for being patient!#yeah some stuff was changed up uwu

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manjuartx · 2 months

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Instagram saw this first but might as well post it here. Eiji and Fierce being loving husbands <3

They're my silly moon and sun coded ship, they are soulmates, they will always find each other in every universe ☀️🌙🖤

Eiji pronouns: He/They.

Follow me on Instagram @manjuartx I'm more active there.

#manjuartx fierce #manjuartx eiji #manjuartx FierceEiji #oc x cc #oc x canon #fierce deity x oc #fierce deity link #fierce deity #they have been married since forever and they're still in their honeymoon phase #oh my god i love them #please do not repost #EIJI I LOVE YOU YOU'RE MY FAVORITE OC AUGHHH #Manjuartx LinkEiji

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yourlocaltreesimp · 7 months

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Totk!Link, about Y/N: You wanna know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let them down.

۵♡۵

Yan! Chain, your cult, with additional members is so much more that it’s difficult to wholly sum up. But I will try.

NOT their official hcs for this page, those will be written at a later time.

Tears

I subscribe to the belief that this man is feral. He knew who you were and that you were his guide immediately and fell pretty much immediately. On grounds of sanity, he doesn’t have much. The malice and gloom swirling in his blood did it’s number on his sanity to the point he was already a madman when the chain happened upon him, not that it was readily apparent though. Before, he made the obligation to his forced status as hero. Polite, helpful, strong, silent, You get the deal. But boy oh boy, that shit went down the drain faster than a korok on a rocket. Once his eyes caught yours and he was returned to your side, he could care less of Hylia or the Triforce, let alone Zelda. Link had a new deity, a new purpose, a new person for which he was wholly devoted for. Only this time around, his deity smiled back at him, his reason for living thanked him for his sacrifices and his utter devotion towards keeping them alive was something he yearned to do. To have blood staining his hands as you fall asleep safely within his arms… arm, but that’s aside the point

First

He struggled to remember your guidance, he’d admit. Your kind smiles and expansive wisdom blurred in his memory, like a candle snuffed out. He could see the remanents, those smoky memories proof that your familiarity was well placed…. but he never got to see the warmth that you had. But it was when the flame in his heart was relit that he remembered exactly why he forgot you. And boy was he livid. Hylia stole his life, his freedom, that which he knew. But Hylia also stole his love, bitter that you held it instead of her. And so, you were ripped away from him too soon. And of course, he suffered in Hylia’s wake. Afterwards, he’d do anything possible to stay by your side, to cherish you as you deserved. The goddesses were dead to him, you were far more deserving of that place. He’d worship the ground you walked on if you asked, bring Hylia kneeling before you and strip her of her immortality if that’s what you wished as vengeance. In long and short, no matter the cost, he’d be there.

Fierce deity

He didn’t really know you per say. He knew of you, though. He knew of you rather well. He watched behind his companions eye, learning all he needed to know about you. Learning the planes of your face and curve of your body. The nuances of your personality and tells of your ways. He memorised you, so that even as many moons passed and you became dust, your face would be fresh in his mind. Fierce had grown accustomed to confinement, stuck as another entity lodged within the Hero of Time, spirit locked away within the mask, stuck as nothing more than a war deity no more useful than the lives he could reap. But you made him long for more. To be by your side, to be your safe haven, to be worth more than a tool. He wanted to be yours, for that was far more valuable than immortality.

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quiteliterallyilliterate · 2 months

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Hellooooo? Is anyone alive? Is ok if you do... A part two of the yandere fierce deity? Please?

Order up!

Ngl this was actually really difficult to write! Y’all seemed to like Part one, so here’s the continuation!

Tw: Described murder and violence, obsession

Hope you enjoy~

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The sigil had since faded from the back wall of your home. It had taken many moons and many storms before the blood had truly faded. But it wasn’t gone. You picked up on the marking more and more, the swooping V shape with two lines intercepting. You saw it carved into the trees you tapped for sap, in the bones of the elks still left at your door and —perhaps most concerning— scratched into your skin. You awoke to it after awaking from a nap, and it came with a sense of all-consuming numbness. You bled, despite no knife piercing your skin and felt a hollow pain looking at the wound… but the gash itself was not painful. The scab on your palm itched as you walked through the markets, and despite switching the hand that held the basket, it only seemed to worsen. An itch is not bad so much as it is annoying. An instinctive feeling to pick and prod until a disturbance is removed. But the sensation has festered into thorns digging into your nerve with every graze of another’s hand.

“That’ll be… 300 total” The farmer handed over the produce youd carefully picked out, a frown of dismay pulling at your lips.

“That’s double last time” His smile faltered and his eyes darted far behind you, glassing over for a moment. He breathed out until his lungs had no more to give and his lips fell shut. It was only when you were about to turn around to see what had enraptured him that his tongue farted over his lips and he picked back up where he’d left off

“Sorry you must understand, it’s-“ His voice faded into the chatter of the crowd, a low hum fading into the back of your mind with a throbbing pain. So much for living here all your life, there was no reason for produce to cost half your wages. It’s not like anyone in this hamlet made much, nor was there any reason for one to struggle. The is community held up on its ties, it's only as useful as its people make it.

“Keep- Just keep it.” You would’ve felt bad at the way he sunk in on his feet with upset, but it was beyond your responsibility to help. Not without proper food in your stomach. You’d need to forage if you had near any hopes of not starving through the week. And so, basket in hand, you returned to the eerie empty of the wood.

The thicket was empty. The berry bushels had since been picked clean by the birds and the wild sprouts trampled or rotted in the soil. It was foolish of you to hope that perhaps whoever kept leaving you meat —your only source of sustenance— could provide you with something that could possibly go with it. Your spice cupboard is beginning to run dry and you had nothing aside from the carcass left behind to prepare.

“If only I had some potatoes… carrots… something- anything!” You threw your wicker basket to the ground, the thin fibres crackling. Anger burned within the humid draws of your breath, seeping into your lungs and through your blood and settling among your being. Thunder rolled in the far distance, but the wind had already made its way to you. The whispery gusts combed through the long grasses and shook the old trees, the wood croaking and groaning. The path back home was no different than it had been recently. No humdrum that followed life, only the cawing of crows. But, rather disappointingly, even they had disappeared as of late. The shadowing of the storm mounted atop your already heavy-hung gloom. It seemed as if every living thing, even those that surpassed mortality had vacated the forest. And as you pushed inward to the unkempt of the wild, you could only feel like you were leaving yourself to the execution block. Your legs faltered and trampled, your limbs felt stiff. And like a corpse of those slaughtered, you fell.

The deity knew that mortals were cruel. He didn’t need much knowledge about the world to know that fact. With such a gift of consciousness, Hylia’s creations were tainted with such bitter malice. That is what made them mortal. Their innate ability to surpass their better moral to kill and to hurt. He saw it every time someone used the likeness of his face. He saw the blood. He felt their drive— to stick cool, unforgiving metal within another. To crack and break and destroy the fragility of the world. The fragility of other people. Hunt or be hunted as it was. There was no matter for if they were above animalistic intent, for they were every bit predator and prey as the wolves and the rabbits. That is why he is so keen on protecting you. Only you have been so kind and pure —A divine among mortals, he’s certain— and such purity can only be tainted within a world so vile. The mortals even admit to it. Making their societies guard such fragility from the maw of itself. It was only himself he could trust to be your guard. Only he could be trusted to deliver you from such a system. He knew the cruelty of mortals upon one another. But for you to be denied sustenance? That was sacrilegious. Did they not understand that they were blessed to have been with you? If that was such a case then perhaps they weren’t worth the salvation you offered. The wretched mortals should bow at your feet, stumble over eachother and themselves to leave you offerings. For one to deny themselves such a right is to deny one’s god. And so, as the twists of his blade delicately carved out the heart of the worthless farm boy, he hoped this would serve a sufficient offering. He could afford to spend more time with you tonight with the storm’s onset. The rain would do most of the work cleaning the blood. The body would mingle from the earth from whence it came and be no more. Maybe if the damned was lucky, his blood could nurture the soil to make plants that you could eat from. Maybe then he’d have paid penance for his sins. Heart and produce in hand, he displayed them all lovingly in your discarded wicker basket and left it looped around the elk horn. He held his offering in one arm and your limp body in the other, carrying you the way to your little temple. The basket was hastily discarded upon the porch —though he doubted you cared much about the presentation— and he tucked you into bed. On his exit he wrangled the body so it would be easier for your untrained limbs to carry indoors. Offerings should be prepared to the highest degree— and you only deserved the best. He’d deliver the world to you exactly as you’d expected of him. Although the procurement of spices would certainly take a while longer, he’d meet your demands in full. Such is what’s expected of him as he’s courting you. Such is the way of devotion.

#yandere link x reader #link x reader #fierce deity x reader #yandere fierce deity link x reader #fierce deity x you #yan!link x reader

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mishwanders · 11 months

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• Fierce Deity • Rain •

Summary: The Fierce Deity falls into the hands of someone who isn’t afraid of him.

Genre/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Minor cooking accident (slight burn that gets taken care of) GN!Reader. Minors DNI with this one.

Author’s Notes: I am so soft for the fierce deity, so I was COMPELLED to write for him. This fic was written by Mishwanders. Do not take or repost it anywhere as your own.

The Fierce Deity was not used to the kindness of others. Even before he had been subjected to the curse of the mask, he was more often than not met with the sharpness of bared teeth and blades, the touch of cold steel and greedy hands desperately reaching him, leaving him only with the sting of battle that dug into his bones.

As the turn of time drew on, he found himself growing weary of it. Even if his deeds were of noble intent - to protect the people of the land no matter the cost - someone always found a way to manipulate his honest intentions, breaking down his resolve little by little, tainting his view and his faith in those who lived in this realm. He truly thought all hope might have been lost for them all, but that was before he met you.

It was just by chance that you’d stumbled upon the place where he had last been hidden, picking up his mask out of the darkness and pulling him into the light. You had looked at him curiously, seeing how worn down the mask was, the marks on its face having faded, the wood cracking from the years of wear and tear. As you stared at him, wondering how it could have ended up behind a rock outside in the forest, he was staring back up at you, taking in all the details of your face, how the sun crowned your head, adorning you in its light. You looked like a shining gem to him and he was certain that he saw you in his fate from that point on.

After that, you had brought the mask into your home with the intention of fixing it, unaware of the power the mask or who it contained. You handled it with care, gently cleaning off the smudges of dirt from the surface, gluing the cracks, buffing the rough textures and edges away, mending the tattered hat, and even repainting the color back onto it. It was the first time in a long time that the Fierce Deity had ever felt the vigor of life be restored to him, it was the first time he’d ever felt so cared for by anyone in his life. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you had done it out of the goodness of your own, never expecting anything in return, and that had done more than restored what little hope he had left in this place and its creatures.

In turn for the care he listened intently to every word that you spoke, every song that you hummed, every story that you told him, what you liked and disliked. You talked to the mask as if you knew he was really there, as if he were a friend. He reveled in learning more about you and your life, and found himself developing a desire to protect you, to protect the kindness you had, to protect the joy that emanated off of you.

He wanted nothing more than to come to life and let you know who he really was, to pledge his allegiance to you, to speak the words through his sealed lips.

He wanted you to know that he cared about you, but being bound to his curse, he was unable to break past the wooden barrier by wishes alone. So, he waited patiently, making a home on your mantle, watching over you, awaiting for the day that the possibility of breaking his curse could arise.

That day did arrive, in the most unexpected of ways. He heard you scream in agony and feared the worst. His desperation to come to your aid was strong, his need to protect you breaking the bounds of the seal of his curse, and just like magic, he felt himself changing. The mask flew off the mantle and onto the wooden floor below, his body reshaping behind it. When his body was fully reformed, he pushed himself off the ground and made his way quickly to you to see how exactly you needed his aid.

He found you in the kitchen, holding your hand, your eyes tightly shut from the pain. He examined you with his white eyes, making sure there were no other issues, and then a glance around the room to see if there was a perpetrator of your pain. When you opened your eyes again you froze in place, looking up at him in shock, trying to figure out how the mask you owned had turned into a man in your kitchen. He looked back down at you with a look of worry. He held out his hand to you, offering to help.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing - I just burned my hand on the cooking pot. I just need a potion -”

He quickly left the room to grab the bottle of potion and returned, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. He settled down on one knee to be at your level, tending to the wound and wrapping it up in a bandage. You watched him as he silently took care of you, feeling the sensation of his fingertips over your skin. He did not feel like he was made of wood, but out of flesh and bone, as if he had always existed like this. When he was finished he looked back up at you and you couldn’t help but ask if he were real.

“Are you actually here?”

He nodded in response and brought your hand up to his face, allowing you to touch his cheek. It felt just as human as his fingers had. You studied him further, allowing your fingers to move over to the marks that were no longer sealed in paint, but in his skin. You then gently moved to the edges of his face, feeling for the break in the seal of the mask, but you noticed it was nowhere to be found.

He was really here. He had always been here behind the mask without your knowing.

That’s when you realized he truly must have seen and heard everything that you did since you'd brought him here - a thought that caused your face to heat up. You quickly moved your hand away from him and gave him an apologetic smile.

“I - uh - thanks for the help.” You stated, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here? Or rather, how long have you been sentient?”

Your questions were met with silence and it puzzled you to the point of worry. “Can you speak? Did I accidentally glue your lips shut when I was fixing you?”

You reached your hand over to his lips to make sure you hadn’t, but he stopped you, wrapping his hand around your wrist to prevent you from getting any closer. He then moved his hand to hold yours in his own, gently kissing the knuckles of your wounded hand. His forwardness took you by surprise, but not as much as the sound of his voice.

“Do you wish for me to speak?”

It was otherworldly, almost booming throughout the kitchen, but it still somehow sounded human. There was a sense of gentle power within it, as well as within every action he made towards you.

You nodded in response. “I do. How did you - I mean how were you - what happened to the mask?”

“I heard your plea for help. I wanted to protect you, so I appeared in this form to come to your aid.” He explained

You laughed nervously, “So I take it you heard me scream then? I’m sorry for worrying you, it was just a measly cooking burn.”

He looked up at you, his eyes unwavering as you spoke. You guessed it must not have been a small thing to him. You tried to move the conversation to something else.

How did you become the mask? Have you always been like that?”

As you spoke you felt something darken around him, seeing him grow more solemn. You attempted to back track, to try and save the conversation as you apologized. “I’m sorry, is that a tender subject?”

He shook his head. “No, you are quite alright. I was cursed by the goddesses for a deed I can no longer remember, bound to the mask for it. I was not always like this, I was once a fierce war god.”

“So a Fierce Deity, then? It must be quite a surprise for you to find yourself here then.” You replied, “I had no idea about your curse or that you even existed.”

“It’s alright, not many know now in this time, not as many as they had before. I actually quite enjoy your life. It’s quiet, filled with more joy and less suffering.” He responded

“So you don’t mind it?” You asked

“I like it.” He said, “At first it was odd, I didn’t understand, but the more you took care of me, I began to learn that it was something I needed.”

You looked at him with surprise as he spoke. You never expect a fierce war deity to need a life like yours, but maybe there was a reason for it. You felt safer having the mask around, a certain feeling of protection would come over your home when it was in your presence. Now, you understood why it felt that way - he was the reason for it.

“Well, I know I said it already, but thank you for your help.”

His expression changed, he looked at you with happiness at the sound of your words. “It’s alright, I want to protect you.”

You felt the heat burning your cheeks again as he spoke, a bit of selfish joy at his words rising in your chest. Yes, these were some of the oddest of circumstances this could have happened in, but it was nice knowing that there was someone else looking out for you, nonetheless wanted to. So, you both decided to make the most out of it.

It was a rocky start to say the least, one that you both would soon come to learn how to approach the other, smoothing out the communication as your time together drew on. The more time you spent together, the more he opened up to you, his hardened exterior slowly being chipped away at by your ever present kindness. The more he stayed with you, the more you grew comfortable in his presence, never fearing him and the power that he held in his hands, the destruction that they could cause, that they had caused.

It felt as if you two were meant to find each other, in some way. You both filled in the empty spaces that the other had. You both craved the care and the protection, to have someone who could reach through the pain and the fear, someone who had the courage to draw the other out of their shell, in a way that no one else could.

You quickly found yourself in the midst of it, in the midst of each other, blurring the lines of each other, filling the empty spaces both emotional and physical. The Fierce Deity hovered over you, his soft lips trailing along the edge of your jaw, down your neck, feeling your quickening pulse under your skin. He listened to the gasps and gentle moans that left you, filling the air like the praise for the way he worshiped you, the way his hips met with yours, the way he drew the pleasure out of you. He relished in the way you looked, how your lips were parted, the way your chest heaved, the way your body moved in tune to his, the way the lightning flashed through the window and danced on your skin, making his precious gem glow once again. He was completely enraptured in you, tangled up in you as if he were in a trance.

He felt your arms wrap around him, holding him closer to you as you whisper in his ear. “Kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate to answer your request. Fierce’s lips were quickly on yours like the mouth of a wolf wrapped around its prey. His tongue delving past your lips, tasting you, drinking you in like holy water that he knew could cleanse him with pleasure, washing out the coarse salt of time and shame from him. Your love left like the rain on his skin, casting the pain of loneliness he’d felt for so long like dust into nothing, making him feel as if he were in pure bliss.

Your hands moved, entangling in his white locks, your legs wrapping around him, pushing him deeper inside of you. A moan broke past your throat and through your lips to his as you melted into him, finding yourself lost in his every movement, into each and every delicate touch. Even as he ravaged you, drawing out your pleasure, he still touched you tenderly with his war torn hands.

“Fierce -” Your voice broke through the moans, pleading, begging for him.

His ears perked up at the sound of it, and he leaned in closer to you, his voice coming as a low whisper in your ear, “Hm? What is it, my gem?”

“Please, please don’t stop.” You begged

He smiled against your skin, placing another kiss on your ear before whispering, “I don’t intend to.”

He continued his pace, sliding in and out as he pulled your hands away from him, pinning them above your head, down to the soft surface of the bed. He peered down at you, his eyes trailing along the length of your body, taking in every last piece of it to his memory, solidifying it.

“You look wonderful, my gem.” He praised

You loved it when he called you his, the way he looked at you, the way he held you. It was as if he were ready to devour you, to consume you, making you one with him. You knew how much he desired you, his every word and touch made it clear just how badly he wanted you, how he craved you. He was all consuming, his passion as befitting as his name - Fierce. Your hands gripped tightly to his own as you felt yourself coming undone at the seams for him, your back arching up off the bed for him as your pleasure reached its peak, losing yourself within the waves of it, as he watched.

He didn’t stop there though, for as soon as he knew you had been fulfilled, he took to pleasuring himself with you. His hands moved away from your own and instead slid down your body until they reached your hips. He pulled your hips up in line with his, making sure you were in the perfect position to take him. You gripped on tightly to the sheets around you, feeling his pace quicken, your body shaking at the sheer strength behind each thrust. Your voice grew louder as he continued to pleasure himself with you, unable to string together a coherent sentence amidst it, but he didn’t mind, he liked having you like this, pliable in his hands. You were so perfect in his eyes, the way you felt around him, against him, the way you said his name through your cries of pleasure. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to reach his peak, to feel his resolve breaking. You could easily draw that out of him, even if you didn’t realize it.

He praised you, his words broken in between moans, with each thrust. “M-My - precious - ah gem. You feel s-ssoo good.”

You returned the same, with a simple request. “P-Please - ngh - cum for me!”

His grip tightened on your hips as he thrusted harder into you for a moment longer before he finally broke. He felt the pleasure coursing through him and his hips slowly stuttered against your own as he filled you. Fierce collapsed over you from the wave of it, feeling himself slowly descending down from the pure ecstasy he felt. As he drew closer, you released the sheets and moved your hands to his face, pulling him in for one last breathless kiss. You both stayed that way for a bit until he finally decided to pull out, groaning into it. You pulled away, allowing him to rest his forehead against yours, peering up into his eyes. You gently thumbed over the red marks on his cheek, looking at him with all of the adoration in the world, unable to convey how much you loved him through words alone. He knew how to make you feel just as loved in return, as if you two were the only ones in the world that existed, as if the only moments that truly mattered were the ones he had with you.

He knew how to cleanse you with pleasure, washing over you like the rain.

#spicy writing: fierce deity #fierce deity link #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity #I can project my religious trauma on him and make it so sexy #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fic #loz fanfic #loz fic #mdni #fierce deity x you #lu fierce deity #legend of Zelda x you #legend of zelda x reader

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monpalace · 1 year

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helloo is it okay if i request a fierce deity x reader (romantic) where the reader is going through a tough time and fierce just comforts them by hugging and words of affirmation and then the whole comforting thing reminds reader how lucky they are to have fierce in their life

noted! fierce deity (named aram for writings sake) will be posted 04/22/23 at 12pm est!

#eni's notes #loz/lu reqs open 👍🏽#i wrote the entire thing between 12am and 3am on a school night the day spring break ended #i dont think its legible and im not reading over it #'words of affirmation' OH YOU MEAN WORDS OF DEVOTION?#CAUSE THATS WHATS HAPPENING RN #loz x reader #legend of zelda x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #lu link x reader #linked universe link x reader #fierce deity x reader #loz fierce deity x reader #legend of zelda fierce deity x reader #lu fierce deity x reader #linked universe fierce deity x reader

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miharuki · 7 months

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𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖊/ 𝕾𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝕬𝖖𝖚𝖎

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:hi, I'm miharuki or just uki, and I make fanfic requests, my English isn't the best but I do it in English and Portuguese (Eng/ptbr)

𝐏𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀̃𝐎:oi, eu sou miharuki ou só uki, e eu faço pedidos de fanfic, meu inglês não dos melhores mas eu faço pedidos em inglês e em português (Eng/ptbr)

𝕬𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘:

★Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

★Tate no yūsha no nariagari/The rising of the Shield hero

★Tensei shitara slime datta Ken/that time i got reincarnated as a slime

★Jujutsu kaisen

★Dr. Stone

★Tondemo Skill de Isekai Hourou Meshi Online

★Blue Exorcism

★Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer

★Tokyo revengers

★Mashle:Magic and Muscle

★Uramichi Oniisan/Life Lessons with the Uramichi Oniisan

★Saiki kusuo no psi-nan/The disastrous Life of Saiki kusuo

★Death note

★Hypnosis Mic

★Diabolik lovers

★Hunter x Hunter

★Marginal #4

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ──

𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘:

★The legend of zelda (linked universe)

★Genshin impact

★Undertale

★Omori

★Yandere aimulator

★Sally face

★Yanderes games

★Amor doce/My Candy Love

★ the kid ind the back

★ 14 days with you

★The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ──

𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖘:

★The owl house/a casa coruja

★Miraculos

★Hora de aventura/Adventure Time

★South park

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ──

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒/𝕺𝖚𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖘 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒:

★Creepypasta

★Happypasta

★Vocaloid

★Yanderes

★Crush boyfriend

𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊/𝕽𝖊𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖘

•I don't do characters x characters/eu não faço personagens x personagens

•I don't make smut content about underage characters /eu não faço smut de personagens menores de idade

•I don't do any underage characters, the maximum will be between (Teen only (12+)/eu não faço personagens menores,o máximo será adolescente (12+)

•I only place orders in private /faço pedidos somente no privado

•Yandere characters are different from ocs yanderes or boy/girl yanderes/personagens yanderes são diferentes dos yanderes ocs ou yanderes garoto/garota

•I don't do fem x fem (I don't have much experience with that)

•Orders may take time due to me studying/os pedidos podem demorar por eu estar estudando

•I WILL NOT make fanfiction about characters from series or films/actors or etc., I don't do that and I will refuse to do any kind /•NÃO farei fanfics sobre personagens de séries ou filmes/atores ou etc., não faço isso e me recusarei a fazer qualquer tipo

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