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silentium-symphony · 8 months

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Spoiled Rotten (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) needed a break from now watch me whip, so here's some smut :) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

i didn’t really mean to make a sequel for Starved, it just kinda happened 💀 can def stand alone tho! i don't typically write a dominant reader, but i had a lot of fun trying smth new :) i hope you enjoy ♡

cw: afab!reader, mentioned somnophilia (like one line), swearing, nice and fluffy in the beginning, ya'll being absolute BRATS to each other oml, taking turns dominating the other :), link once again having the dirtiest mouth in the world, spreading you on all fours, riding link like the gorgeous stallion he is

wc: 5.8k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Passerine warbles teased your consciousness from the lands of slumber to the realm of morning. A curtain of colors whisped behind your eyelids and you felt the warmth of the sunbeam conveniently placed on your eyes; cracking them open a smidgen spelled the death of your pupils as you were immediately blinded by its solar glory.

Your head lulled to the side, still very much weighted by sleep, and came face-to-face with your lightly snoring husband. His golden brows were pulled into a relaxed arch, no longer featuring a drawn, terse look. His cheeks, smushed into the pillow, slotted perfectly in your hand and you stroked them fondly. A soft moan left him and you could feel the little bits of tension in his jaw disappear completely. Looking further down, you saw his neck and chest littered with hickeys galore; your lips tingled hotly.

You lifted the arm that was dangled loosely over your waist with great care, gauging his expression for any hint of discomfort or arousal. You were genuinely shocked he didn't slug his arm over you and hug you tighter as he normally would. While setting his arm down in front of you, you saw bright red scratch marks running up and down his arms. Highlights of last night pervaded your mind and it took a considerable amount of mental fortitude to not start grinding against his bare member. Additionally, thinking about how he abused your cunt with his incessant pounding started to fill you up with post-orgasm sleepiness--not what you wanted when you were trying to get out of bed.

And he did all that right after he got back. Y'know... It makes sense why he'd be knocked out.

Your lips ghosted atop his twitching eyelids while you slinked out of bed and oNTO THE FLOOR OH SWEET HYLIA

A hand flew to the corner of your bedstand and you somehow managed to catch yourself before you ate shit. Link really diddly darn fucked you 'til your legs gave out, huh? Can't say you were complaining--

You hauled yourself up, your knees shivering and buckling from the arduous task of existing in an upright position. You scooted closer to your shared dresser, the smooth walls acting as support, and you slipped on one of Link's shirts. His scent wrapped around you comfortingly and was reminiscent of one of his hugs. There was also the added benefit of Link really liking you in his clothes--a fact you very much took advantage of.

With the wall still acting as your cane, you made the trepidatious trip to the kitchen.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You balanced two plates of fried eggs and rice on a small wooden tray, complete with silverware, water, and two mug cakes! You managed to find the recipe haphazardly scribbled down on a random piece of parchment. You thought it looked delectable and hoped he thought the same.

You limped ambled your way to the bedroom and opened the old door as gingerly as possible.

Unluckily for you (and him, now that you thought about it), the wakeful tendencies stemming from the extreme sport of sleeping alone in the wilderness kicked in and his ears visibly twitched, disturbed by the softest sounds from across the room. He shuffled quickly and turned to you, his eyes still drooped with sleep.

"Mm... g'morn..." His nose quivered. "What smells so good...?"

"Breakfast!"

"Breakfast? In bed?" He could barely contain his excitement.

"Breakfast in bed!"

He sat up, propping and fluffing the pillows as you made your way over to him. He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Oh! Are those...?" The gears in Link's head buffered and churned.

"Mug cakes!" You set the tray down on his lap and saddled next to him.

"Mug cakes!!!" He returned your gleeful energy. "They look delicious, darling."

"Thank you, dear." You shoveled a fluffy mound of rice topped with an equally fluffy piece of egg in your mouth and sighed contently. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before dipping to your ear.

"Not as delicious as you though." He breathed, eyeing the plain white shirt hanging from your frame. You gasped at the sensation of heat tickling your neck and your palm connected with the backside of his head.

"Ow!" He pouted. "Unnecessary."

"J-Just eat the damn food!" Clearly flustered, you scraped more food into your mouth and promptly turned away from him. He laughed while smoothing out your bedhead before chowing down on the simple spread before him.

"How're you feeling? I'm sorry for being a bit... rough last night."

Good sir you almost broke my back and yours "a bit?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Okay, fine, but my question still stands--how're you feeling?"

"I'm all right! My... Legs were pretty weak this morning." You shrunk, feeling Link's ego swell. You could practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Were you okay climbing out of bed this morning? You didn't fall, did you?"

You were so thankful he couldn't see the imaginary sweat beading down your brow.

"Nope! All good!"

"Glad to hear it."

Your conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both relished in each other's company and the food. While you finished up the main dish, Link dipped his spoon into the gooey mug cake and almost kicked his feet in childlike joy.

"This is amazing! It tastes just like your hugs!"

Your heart simultaneously fluttered and melted into one big goop.

"Heheh... And what, good sir, do my hugs taste like?"

"Hm..." He leaned in and glomped onto you. "Warm... Soft... Sweet..."

While you were basking in his warm embrace, you didn't notice the sly hand sneaking for the hem of your shirt. Warm digits traced up your torso and cusped your breasts; a pleasurable chill shuddered through you.

"Tantalizing..." He husked, lowering you onto your back. "Enchanting..."

He showered your neck with gentle pecks and retraced the bruises and nips he planted on your skin the night before. Your arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him closer. You could feel his dick begin to throb with heat.

"Mm... Link..."

Guuuurgle...

Oh.

He pulled away from you, light, innocent giggles bouncing between the two of you.

"Let's take our time today, okay?"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

After clearing breakfast and cuddling for an hour or so, you both finally got up and started your day. Link volunteered to wash the dirty dishes while you put away the... scattered clothes from last night. Tidying the room to your liking, you came down to meet your husband.

Whose got his lean, toned, battle-scarred back turned to you.

Your love marks from last night were due to join his never-ending collection of scars--at least for the coming weeks. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you stalked toward him, tiptoes feeling around the squeaky floorboards.

He soaped up the water some more and smiled at the bubbles that floated to his nose, humming a happy lil' tune, completely oblivious to your sinful intentions. As he dipped a plate into the soapy basin, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something warm and soft trace his back and sides.

His next exhale caught in his throat and he sputtered... some type of exclamation. As quickly as it tensed, his sinewy muscles grew lax in your embrace, melting into your touch. He adored the way your mouth hungrily suctioned to his old scars and how divine it felt for your hands to caress him, rubbing soothing patterns into sore spots he never knew he had.

You worked your way up and brushed your lips along the still-fresh scratches on his shoulders. You painted them with tender, loving kisses as your hand drifted lower and lower...

"You're marked up so nicely for me..." Your fingers coasted the prominent bulge in his pants and he bit back a whine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Hands spun his waist around and his eyes flew shut, fully expecting to feel your lips slam into his as you took him right then and there.

...?

Except... You didn't...?

His eyes cracked open to his beloved's absence, confounded. A bright, chirpy whistle had him swiveling his head for a double take and he saw you happily drying the dishes he washed. Like nothing happened.

"You okay, love?" You looked at him through your lashes. "You've got stars in your eyes."

Said eyes twitched.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The sun was still high up in the sky when you finished torturing the poor man with your household chores. The door swung open; Link went out first, bucket and brush in hand, while you stayed at the door for just a moment longer. The open windows couldn't quite demonstrate the soul-cleansing power of the fresh winds and you relished the wind tugging through your hair. Your lungs expanded as much as they could, filling themselves with the scent of home-tinged wilderness, before breathing out.

Epona's happy nickers tickled your ears and you drew closer to the duo. Link was going through her sleek coat, brushing it of dirt and grime while you filled her troughs with fresh hay and clean water. You threw yourself onto Epona and gave her fluttering kisses on her snout and neck, singing praises into the ears of your equestrian friend and thanking her repeatedly for bringing Link back home safely.

Link, smiling, grabbed the bucket and left her stall.

"I'm gonna grab some more water."

You acknowledged him with a bright "mm" and turned your attention to Epona, who was lovingly nuzzling your neck. Your husband rounded the corner and disappeared behind your house--you waited a few moments.

Now was your chance.

You flew out of her stall and veered into your house, cramming as many apples as you could hold in your arms, and practically teleported back to her stall. The sweet mare let out the happiest whinny you've ever heard and pawed the ground with anticipation. You peered over your shoulder as you presented her her favorite treats and prayed to Hylia Link's bucket broke or something. Just... Please Goddess, stall him for a bit.

Link loves hates it when you tease him with the 'nonsense' of Epona liking you more. You remembered the first time you brought up such a notion and Link was quick to scoff at your claims, assuring you that he and Epona share a bond like no other. The sweet, sweet look on his face when Epona responded to your voice and not his that one time never left your mind. To add insult to injury, not only did she straight up ignore the blonde--she clopped away from Link and over to you, leaving her beloved rider in the literal and metaphorical dust. Link reverted back to silence for the rest of the day.

Besides! She works just as hard as Link in keeping Hyrule safe. She deserves all the treats in the world.

Epona made quick work of the bushel and pressed her snout to you for more. You laughed and gently pushed her away, kissing her nose as you did. You turned around, half-expecting to see your husband with a silly exasperated look on his face; no one. You rocked on your heels, keeping a steady stream of pats on Epona's neck as you craned yours to find your beloved. Where was he?

The familiar knot of worry pitted your stomach and, pressing one final nuzzle into Epona, left her stall. You followed the trail your love had taken several minutes ago, careening your neck around the corner. The well sat unattended and the bucket your husband carried laid on its side. You approached the scene carefully, your lips forming into a 'Link?'

A pair of hands dug into your waist; your vision whizzed into a blend of colors, the back of your house bleeding into the scene of a little alcove. You barely had time to think let alone scream before something hot and wet muffled your lips. Your assailant pressed you further into the wall, pinning your arms above your head and coasting his digits up your thigh. Link's handsome features flooded your view and you moaned into the kiss, feeling your core grow hot with need.

He moved himself between your legs and gyrated his clothed tip against your engorged and sensitive bud. Your lips pulled away with a pop and he busied himself tarnishing your neck once again, reinforcing the lighter bruises already beginning to fade and making new ones in previously unexplored spots. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he listened to the pathetic whimpers dripping out of you.

"Shh..." A playful kiss lapped your collarbone. "Not so loud hun, someone might hear..."

You fussed and squirmed under his treatment, his mischievous, nippy kisses along your skin sending your thoughts into overdrive. You hadn't even noticed your hips rolling faster, sloppier against him as your heat craved that sweet friction. Link felt your juices seep through the thin fabric of his pants and moisten the head of his cock.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me..." He sang, nibbling the lobe of your ear.

His hands left your wrist to find solace at the back of your thighs. With a grunt, he hoisted you into a seated position and pressed his full weight against yours, nullifying any chance for escape. Your legs hung uselessly at his hips as he continued moving against you in both body and lip.

His mouth moved to capture the beginnings of your breasts, suckling the curve of your mound until your chest glistened with his spit. He looked up at you through trembling lashes, committing your hooded gaze, gaping mouth, and flushed cheeks to memory.

The tips of your toes grazed the ground as Link lowered you delicately before he not so delicately spun you round and slammed your front against the wall. The sudden impact knocked what was left of precious air out of your lungs and your brain roared, the organ already doubling over from a pleasure-kissed lightheadedness.

Calloused hands connected with the soft of your inner thighs, flowing it open and dragging a finger, slow and deliberate, across your clothed folds. You all but screamed his name, his previous warnings to keep it quiet muddling with lusty bliss. Wet, hot breaths on bits of your exposed back sent your eyes rolling into your head and you balled your fists at the thought of him taking you here and now.

You felt his weight leave your form and you waited with growing impatience for him to be rid of his clothes. Your eyes were still squinted shut as you whined, trying to push your rear against his tented crotch hungrily.

He's... further away than you expected. How big is this alcove...?

You looked over your shoulder, confusion meddling with your arousal, and caught a glimpse of blonde swaggering away from you as if nothing had happened.

Heart thundering, legs quivering, blood rushing, your bent frame crumbled in on itself as your knees gave out from under you.

"LINK!!!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Safe to say by the time dinner rolled around, the two of you could hardly look at each other and any attempts at making small talk felt like Ganon shooting his piss into your eyes. Any semblance of Link in your brain always ended up with him either railing you or you fucking him until collapse.

You looked up from your plate to grab the water pitcher before you and you could feel the darkness glimmering in his eyes, heavy with lust and frustration. Your thighs grinded against each other, hoping to satiate the growing need to stimulate yourself even if only a little.

You were one look away from pinning him onto the dining table and fucking him until he was a babbling, crying mess under you. Unbeknownst to you (not really), Link happened to share those same sentiments.

Hylia, you were so horny for each other and your skin felt aflamed by his absence. But... you'd be lying if you said you didn't find a sick pleasure in watching you and him squirm under each other's heavy gaze, seeing how long either of you could last before one of you bites the arrow and takes the other.

"(F/N)."

You jolted at the sound of your own name and looked up into Link's blown-out pupils and barely parted lips, moistened with spit. Not a word was spoken between the two bodies; a velvety darkness took hold of your chest and you absently felt your feet march over to your husband before locking lips with his in messy desperation. Your hands explored the warmth of his skin, rubbing the back of his shoulders, his face, his chest. With a small tug on your wrist, you fell into his lap and he steadied you with level hands. You rolled your hips against his aching cock, teasing his stiffness with every sultry sway.

His lips latched onto your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the soft flesh, feeling your body shiver against his. He moved in time with your motions, rocking you faster against his dick that sweltered with desire. His chair skitted back and his hands flew to your ass, squeezing the soft, plump flesh as he carried you to the bedroom. Your legs hugged his torso to keep yourself up as he blindly fumbled with the doorknob, impatience ticking both your features.

He swung the door open, the shockwave from the sudden slam knocking down whatever trinket or picture was hanging on the wall. You paid little mind to the clamor of knick-knacks as Link tripped onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress and you adding to his weight. You braced your hands on the sides of his head while his found your hips, fondling and diveting the soft flesh.

Languid lips moved with his before traveling towards his jawline and down to the soft skin of his neck, lapping it with butterfly kisses. A shaky breath all but stopped at the base of his throat as he saw you trail red, hot pecks along the dip of his shoulder and down to his chest, assaulting his lust-stricken senses with a campaign of pleasure. You looked up at him teasingly, swirling the tip of your tongue about his perked nipple.

Link's eyes fluttered close as a breathy sigh left him, his hips bucking wildly against your own. He tried so hard to catch his breath, but every roll, every graze, everything flared a white flame throughout his core. His mind was slipping, he could feel it, but by the gods did he do his damnest to savor every little sensation he would feel tonight.

Your hands quickly discarded your undergarments and flew to the hem of your shirt, tossing it aside like you've done hundreds of times before. Link followed suit, doing the extra step of lifting his hips (you still on top) to shimmy his pants off. He kicked the offending fabric off the bed and you both sighed, enjoying the pleasurable tingles the cool night air brought to your hottest spots. You lifted yourself and slowly rubbed your folds all over him, drinking in his dirty mewls like it would be the last thing you tasted. Something dark snapped into your husband's eyes as a hand left your hip to cruelly flick your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A whine lapsed out of your mouth and you bobbed your dripping cunt up and down his tip. A growl countered your moans while his thumb rubbed long, teasing circles about your clit. Nails dug into the swordsman's thighs as tears clouded your vision.

"You want to play this game?" His eyes read. "Fine. Let's see who wins."

You're unceremoniously pushed forward by his limbs and your chest lands squarely atop his face. Link's muffled moans hummed between your mounds and you sighed, head lolling forward. You scooted your hole closer towards his propped thighs, dipping just past his angry head and taking a little bit more of him in your cunt. You whorled your hips slothfully, savoring the way he rubbed every corner of your entrance. Teeth dug punishingly into your nipples and worked the small buds until they were raw and red from abuse. A hot, sloppy tongue swirled around the aching buds, matching the pace with your hips.

It took everything in you to not let out the sweet cry bubbling in your chest as you pulled and twisted his soft golden locks, determined to break this man before he broke you. Without any warning, you rammed your cheeks against his thigh, taking all of him in one go; you both choked as you stretched to accommodate his length and girth while your caving walls sent him to cloud nine.

Link was the first to cry out, with you following shortly after. Still remembering the game you were playing, you slid off him almost completely before slamming yourself down again with a force that got him seeing stars. Knuckles tightened around your waist and nails dug into your supple softness as the man beneath you writhed with untold pleasures. Your throbbing heat begged you to wait, to adjust to his size, but you were so focused on getting him whimpering under you that you brushed the sensual shock off.

Link adjusted himself slightly to naturally hasten your rolls; you also adjusted yourself in a bid to level the control you had over him. You decided your gait, not him. Soft hands went to pry the battle-worn digits off your side but were promptly met with a sharp slap over your wrists, gluing them to one spot. As he positioned you slightly angled above his pelvis, his smirk countered your falling expression as you began to realize the compromising position you were in.

Not wasting any time, Link roughly entered your hole, keeping you right where he wanted you for maximum pleasure. His sudden entrance elicited the sweetest calls for his name and you threw your head back, barely keeping yourself together. Try as you might, you couldn't wriggle free from his grip (though he loved watching your futile attempts, your countenance contorting into the prettiest, sluttiest faces). Your hands twitched and convulsed, wrists writhing uselessly against your side as he hastened his thrusts.

"Nngh! Link! S-Slow--please!"

"Hm? What was that?" He asked coolly, exertion inapparent in his voice.

"T-Too fast--Link, I c-can’t--"

"Oh, but you took me so well last night. Besides, I'm having fun watching you struggle like this." He snickered, watching the rebellious glint in your eyes dull into something lustful. You were trying so hard to pry from his grasp. You thought you could break him first? How cute.

Link's head rolled into the bed as he felt you stretch and expand with every thrust, locking his cock in a vice grip. Gods, you were so tight. And warm. And wet. He cursed under his breath as he watched your juices pool at the base of his cock. His clasp unknowingly began to loosen.

Slackening just enough for you to wiggle free. He gasped, no longer feeling your convulsing hands under his and before he knew it, those same hands that got you under his control were pinned above him. You laughed something wicked as you sat promptly on his dick, stilling his wild pistoning. He felt small under your piercing gaze, like some prey item looking up at its predator. You leaned down and nipped his ear lobe, a soft whine escaping him.

"My turn." You purred, rolling against him painfully slow and giving your abused cunt a much-needed break. A groan rumbled out of him the instant he stopped pounding your insides at unimaginable speeds. You fought the wrists that tried to pull away from you and locked his lips with yours, tongue and teeth mashing sloppily against the other. Frustrated at your own slow pace, you took your rolls up a notch--fast enough to keep his mind from imploding but not enough to give it the release he craved.

"Please, just a bit faster..." He sputtered, pleading.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be giving orders?" You cooed. "Don't rush me."

Your hips lulled into a steady rhythm that was a step faster than what you were previously going. Link turned into a fumbling mess under you, filling your bedroom with his begging whines and gasps for more. With one hand still pinning him down, the other grazed the various scars that littered his abdomen. Your tongue swiped your bottom lip while you watched the outline of his abs convulse with each pleasure-stricken breath. Every one of your touches, every one of your kisses, every sloppy squelch your wet hole made as it took him whole fogged his mind with ecstasy.

"Mm! You've been so good... Letting me use your cock..." You whipped your hips forward, grip tightening around his wrists. The Hero of Hyrule's pathetic little whimpers traveled to your ears and you looked down at the whining man squirming underneath you, tears prodding his eyes.

"You like that? Hm? You like it when I bounce on your hard, hard cock?" You accentuated each word with a snap of your hips. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please... Please, let me touch you--feel you... I need it, please..."

"Not yet darling," you kissed his tears away, giggling as more came to replace what was lost. You felt him swell inside you and you moaned. "Fuck, Link..."

You leaned back, resting on his thighs for support, and gyrated your hips in a circular motion. Link was practically screaming, begging, imploring you to grab you, hold you, anything just please--

"Nuh uh uh," your sing-song voice dripped with a lusty venom. "The moment you lay your hands on me, I stop. Got it?"

"No!" Blue eyes shot up to meet yours, mortified. "Don't stop! Whatever you do, just don't... Ah... Don't stop..."

You fucked and fucked this man until your thighs clung to his with sweat. Link pressed his face into his bicep and his hands balled into pale fists, shaking as he fought the urge to overpower your teasing self and ram his throbbing cock against your sweetest spots.

"You look so pretty, Link... Gods, absolutely gorgeous." You gingerly pulled his face to look at you. "Don't hide from me, I want to see you..."

You sunk your chest into his as your hips lifted and snapped down with a lewd squelch. He let out a noise between a gasp and a yelp and he bucked his hips up to meet your cunt. You hovered in the air, low enough for Link to slip in and out of you but high enough where he couldn't immerse himself wholly. A race of obscenities slurred out of his mouth.

"P-Please (F/N)... Can you come down a little lower for me? I need you... Need you wrapped around me..."

"Mm... I'll think about it." You laughed darkly as Link strained harder to fill you up with his cock. Eventually, his breathing became haggard and you felt his heart thunder in his chest. He threw his head back and chanted your name like something holy. Your lips left bluish welts all over his alabaster skin and you pulled away, admiring your masterpiece.

"So pretty... All right, I'll give you what you want..." You began lowering your hips--barely at first--while Link sang your praises, feeling the lower half of his dick be squeezed by your tight, wet walls.

"You fill me up so well, baby..." You rolled your hips faster, faster, faster. "Fuck, you're so big...!"

Link's abs suddenly crunched up and you yelped, slipping into his lap. Rough hands pulled you off him and spun your body round, faceplanting you into the soft sheets. He scuttled you closer and poised your ass in the air, taking a moment or two to appreciate your hole pulsating with want. His torso dipped into the arch of your back, sending hot breaths up your spine and into your ear.

"It's been fun, but..." He licked the sensitive spot under your ear, melting into your moans. "I'm gonna make you mine now, okay?"

Two fingers curled into your needy hole and thrusted at mind-numbing speeds. You screamed into the fabric bunched at the foot of your bed, fists balling uselessly in response to his merciless onslaught. As if your mind wasn't wrecked with enough pleasure, another hand snaked around your waist and dipped down your pelvis, kneading your swollen clit. The simple motion almost got you coming undone by his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you regret teasing me for so long." He hissed, his sexual frustrations turning into something sadistic.

As quickly as they entered you, his fingers pulled out and rubbed your slick all over his throbbing cock. He pained to feel your tightness vice around him, but Link was a patient man.

"You're such a tease, you know that? Gods, look at you... You're making a mess of our sheets." He hummed, rubbing his twitching head along your folds. "Whatever will you do to make up for this?"

"A-Anything!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could catch yourself. "Just please--please fuck me already!"

He chuckled evilly, prodding your entrance deeper. A whine wrenched from your throat and you tried pushing your cunt against him, but you were kept firmly in place with his hands.

"Begging's a good look on you, darling," He sang sweetly. "(F/N), you're gorgeous... Spread out so beautifully for me..."

Whispers laced with obscene praises overtook your senses as you felt your husband slowly fill you up, making sure you felt every sweet inch seep into your core. No words could explain the unholy heat that spread from your core to your fingers, tingling them with mind-rocking sensations. You felt his pelvis against your ass and you both let out a pent-up sigh.

Not a moment later, his hips snapped to life and you were completely at the mercy of the Hero's thrusts. Your breasts spilled into his hands, a wave of soft flesh lapping the other side of his palm with every forceful thrust. The other hand reached for your abused folds and rubbed your clit, each swirl more feral than the last.

"So good... So good for me... Your body was made for me..."

You were sobbing at this point. Shaking. Screaming. All for your beloved Link. He fucked every sense of coherency from your mind, filling your brain and cunt with nothing but him. He straightened his back and burrowed his fingers into your hips, admiring the little crescents his nails left behind. The air behind you stirred and the burn of a slap seared into your bouncing cheeks, lodging a pained whine in your throat. He rubbed the swollen handmark, loving the red that grew to settle on your skin and traced your relatively unmarked back that was practically begging to be marked by him.

He started with gentle kisses and tonguing here and there, gauging your expression (or moans) for discomfort. A high-pitched mewl acted as permission for him to continue. He followed the natural curve of your spine, teething the soft flesh and suckling so contently. He initially took his sweet time marking you, but the thought of his bruises painting your skin spurred him faster, rougher.

He bit the back of your shoulder and dragged teeth and tongue to your neck, his home. You felt him breath deeply, no doubt getting drunk off your scent and the smell of sex that clung to the air. You suddenly felt a hand burrow into your disheveled, sweaty hair and he pulled you up, pressing your body flush against his. The modified position allowed him to reach even deeper and at speeds he hadn't gone before.

Digits wrapped about your chin and neck, prying them sideways to make way for even more hickeys. Each mark still wrought your skin with a heat you could never get used to, no matter how many times he claimed you. Moist lips covered the shell of your ear as a husky whisper wormed through your thoughts.

"My cute lil' wife... You're taking me so well. Making me feel so good... Do you feel good too? Are you drunk off my cock yet?"

Some messy confirmation stammered out of you as lidded (E/C) met hooded cerulean. The imperceptible knot in your gut began tangling itself into tight ribbons. You were getting close.

He pulled you into a messy kiss raptured with delight, losing any form of standard structure as tongues met and coiled around the other in an intoxicating dance. You were no longer yourself, turned into a mere plaything by your loving, adoring husband. He chuckled at the dazed look in your eyes, nuzzling into your cheek.

"I love you so, so much..." His hand on your clit moved faster and faster. "Come for me, okay? Can you do that for me, my queen?"

The all-too-familiar tension grew and grew in your lower abdomen; your head lolled downward, bopping your nose clumsily against Link's. Your hand wandered to the top of his sopping-wet fingers while the other snaked around his neck. He balanced your forehead against his and locked adoring eyes with you.

"Don't look away... Look at me. I want to see your slutty face as you come..."

His velvety purr was the last push you needed to fall the over edge and into the sweet, white abyss. A scream you didn't recognize sang into his ears as you poured your juices all over his hand, your cunt shaking from the magnitude of release. The delightful twitches shot him over the edge and his eyes fluttered shut, pure unfiltered bliss kissing his features as he brimmed you with his seed.

All the strength in the Hero's legs sapped, you both fell backwards into the plush sheets, sweat and slick binding your limbs into a messy pile. Spent exhales intermitted with each other and neither of you moved, locked in warm, satisfied catatonia.

"I've never..." He breathed out with much effort, "Came so hard... In my life..."

"I think I... saw the gods." Exhausted laughs spilled from the both of you and you felt his loving gaze. You looked over at him as he tucked your sweaty locks behind your ear.

"Makes sense. You're absolutely divine, after all."

A weak slap to his bicep and a chortle.

"Must you tease me?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth." He rubbed into your neck and sighed, feeling the post-orgasm sleepiness weigh his eyelids; your consciousness was already waist-deep into slumber. In the moments leading up to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep of your lives, he drew you closer and treated your ear with a low, tired whisper.

"I love you, (F/N)... Thank you for being mine."

#link #link x you #link x reader #link x reader smut #loz link #loz link smut #loz link x reader #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #loz smut #legend of zelda smut

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urrockstar-xe · 5 months

Text

happy birthday - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 27th, 2023 9:50pm

anon asked: could you do bestfriend jj asking reader out on a date for her birthday present and he tells her he’s been in love with her for years🩷🤭

so sorry for the wait!! for the sake of this, pretend reader and jj kissed before finding the gold instead of jj and kie i also don't know HOW THE FUCK but i forgot abt the love confession I'm sorry :( okay muah. it's def way past ur birthday but happy birthday! my grandma used the sing the beatles song to us on our birthdays! i hope u like it :)

masterlist

wordcount: 1.2k

Loud cheers and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”s rang through your ears the second you were within eyeshot of your friends all out back of the chateau. The smile on your face only got bigger when Sarah and Kie tackled you in a hug, all three of you going down in a fit of giggles and more “Happy birthday!”s

Helping each other stand up, you all made your way closer to the rest of your friends all of whom shared your cheerful smiles. John B was the next to pull you into a hug, “Happy birthday,” he smiled. “Thanks, JB.” You smiled, pushing him off you as he messed up your hair, earning a laugh in response. Cleo nodded at you with a smile from where she sat, “Happy birthday, Y/n/n” you thanked her, before being pulled into another hug by Pope and JJ this time, earning another round of laughs from the group as they nearly crushed you in between them both happily singing The Beatles birthday song, You laughed again, smiling when JJ threw his arm around your shoulder and kept it there even after the hug had ended. “Thank you guys, that was sweet” You spoke, your cheeks warm from all the affection.

“So birthday girl, what do you want to do today?” John B asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly awaiting your answer.

“I actually just wanna hang out, with everything that’s happened these last few months, we haven’t really had the chance so!” You announced, smiling nervously as if for whatever reason they’d reject the idea. Instead, it was met with nods of understanding and excited high-fives from the boys.

John B gave JJ a pat on the back and a wink before moving back to sit with Sarah, giving you a weirdly suspicious smile before JJ spoke up, “Although, we-” Pope forced a cough and cleared his throat to cut JJ off, giggles coming from the girls. “I had an idea in mind for tonight though, not the whole day just a few hours tonight” JJ shrugged, grinning at you and dropping his arm from your shoulder to fully turn to you.

You smiled back, “Alright, bring it on, Maybank” You laughed through your words, expecting this surprise of his to be something illegal or some last-minute party at the point, but as more cheers for the long-awaited normal day came from the pogues your thoughts were practically wiped clean with matched excitement.

And so you had your usual summer day on the water, with your usual playlist and John B pushing Sarah in the water, Pope in charge of steering the boat with newfound company in Cleo, and JJ shaking cold water droplets from his hair onto you and Kie’s laps like a dog. Kiara had snagged food from her parents and nobody asked how but JJ and John B showed up with beer.

Now as the sun set and a breeze hit your shoulders you found solace and warmth in JJ’s thin but discarded button-up, Pope was taking the boat back to land for whatever JJ had planned and everyone was calmly chatting amongst themselves, not including Kie and JJ who were bickering over what time was best to get high.

As the Chateau came into sight you felt JJ's head fall onto your lap, looking down to see him already smiling up at you.

“Sup pretty lady,” he said, his sunglasses falling perfectly on his nose and his hair just slightly damp and cold on your thighs. “What’s up, J” You smiled back as always, ruffling his hair but leaving your fingers entangled in it.

“Ready for your surprise?” JJ was evidently eager about his plans but when was he not, even the bad ones had JJ shaking with excitement.

Actually, especially the bad ones.

You nodded, growing impatient when you were suddenly hit with the realization of not really knowing what this surprise was.

JJ stayed like this the rest of the time left on the boat, starting up mindless conversations with you and asking dumb questions when the conversations would seemingly end, it made it feel like you hit land a little too soon, suddenly missing the feeling of him being so intimately close as he stood up and hopped off.

The boys helped the girls off, JJ grabbed your hand once Sarah was safely secured and on her way to the old hammock. Although when he helped you he held onto your hand longer than necessary turning to the rest of your friends and announcing you’d both be on your way to Pope’s place to pick up the dinner Mrs Heyward so graciously offered to make for your birthday.

John B sent JJ another wink before waving you guys off. Your friends all watched as you guys got on JJ’s bike and headed off, all giggling and chatting about whatever this surprise was.

“Thank you so much! I owe you, Miss Heyward!” JJ yelled as he ran back from the door to his bike, you waved and blew Pope’s mom a kiss as she called out a happy birthday before JJ handed you the box of food and promised to go slow while starting his bike back up.

He actually kept his promise and after what felt like forever you stopped not too far from the docks where you grew up watching the boys fish and as JJ ever so graciously took the box of food from your hands you began approaching it.

And there it was, an old blanket you recognized from John B’s couch laid out on the old wood, with a rock on each corner to hold it down and a single candle set in the middle, the melted wax signaling it had been lit but the wind had blown it out and as you watched JJ set down the box and turn to you with a nervous smile, clapping his hands together, you realized what this all was.

“So uh, I couldn’t think of anything to get you, and you said it yourself this morning! With everything going on the last few months, it’s been a lot for us and we never got a chance to really establish what this” he motioned between you two with his hands, “what we were, so what better than to have our first date?” You pouted as he finished, ignoring his worried questions at the pout as you got closer to JJ and wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling at how fast his hands landed on either side of your waist.

“JJ, this is so sweet, you are so sweet” You whispered, close enough to feel his breath. JJ smiled, his worry instantly fading as he sighed. “God, you scared me” he laughed, earning a laugh from you as well.

“Happy birthday, baby” JJ whispered back, a soft look in his eyes as they flickered from your own and your lips.

And for the first time since just before finding the gold, you felt confident in leaning up and closing the small gap, pressing a long overdue kiss to JJ’s lips, laughing breathlessly as his lips chased yours when you pulled away.

best birthday ever

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #outer banks x you #outer banks imagines #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #Spotify

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 6 days

Note

I knew you'd like the idea >:3

Just imagine the characters having an intervention meeting without the creator and they bring THAT up and the notebook along with it and the entire room just goes to silence and no one know how to bring the fact that close to half of the deaths later on were of their own creator's hands.

You're right though, I def think that Sumeru would actually make the problem worse and potentially cause a relapse in which case another nation takes over and Sumeru is seen as worse or inferior for causing more pain to the creator (like the little hypocrites they are smh)

Imagine there's some pages on the old notebook of just describing how they felt and the reader can see the slow descent to madness as each death happens and it's like forbidden knowledge for them to the point that it actually like becomes risk of being lethal, so they kinda stop looking into it and just try their best to heal their creator and just leave the skeleton in the closet, per say.

I forgot to put my little thing on the last post but here it is again! I have way more ideas for sagau that i will probably never get to write so i'm happy to share them!

🍌anon

🍌 anon I want you to know that I am eating everything up cause MY GOD THE WAVELENGTHS WE'RE HAVING AAAAA

And ohhhhh ohhhhhh forbidden knowledge, your brain rn omg. CHRIST ALMIGHTLY

Some of the notes would actually be forbidden knowledge, especially if we're talking the early ones and if the creator was isekaied before Sumeru's archon quests. Omg- NO ONE CAN READ THE FIRST COUPLE OF EDITIONS, besides for Traveler-

Wait....this just made me realize something. I FORGOT TO EVER THINK ABOUT THE TRAVELER, WHAT ROLE WOULD THEY EVEN HAVE??? OH GOD HOW COULD I OVERLOOK THIS WAIT

Putting a pin in that for later (slamming my head against the wall over this)

But yeah Traveler is probably the one that creator would be closest too, because they have to be the first ones (besides Nahida or Neuvillette) to know the truth. So when the notebooks are found they're the only ones allowed to read it. So they would be at the meeting and conveying what is necessary but also keep the important parts our for the sake of the creator's privacy and to keep the forbidden knowledge from infesting again.

What probably keeps them at an advantage is the language creator uses can only be read by Traveler since Teyvat's language is usually translated for us in game in our own languages.

And also yes Sumeru would be worst, glad we agree. BUT THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF THE AKADEMIYA, Azar fucking sucks and would never understand. BUT- if we're talking with Alhaitham being the acting leader then there's a higher chance for them. Especially with the other Sumeru characters being there, and Nahida!! Nahida would be a godsend since she obviously would have the most knowledge, both known and unknown, and also would be able to peer review others ideas based on when she's read the memories of the creator (poor baby got traumatized tho-)

PLUS! Kuni (Wanderer name I use, making sure that's known) being our body guard, ain't no way creator is dying even if it is their wish. Combine that with Cyno also on guard duty and you got a chance of healing way better then whenever Azar (fuck that guy seriously) was in charge.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #others ideas #also i am very happy youre sharing this with me #i love hearing peoples ideas #this is why this blog is a dumping sight for ideas #let us all scream at each other over every potential a story could have #🍌anon

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theragethatisdesire · 9 months

Text

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,.

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

“Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however.

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup.

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar.

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

#hehehehehe enjoy #i love plug eren so much it hurts my head #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger series #eren jaeger fanfic #eren yeager series #attack on titan fic #aot fic #much ado about nothing #much ado uni #much ado universe

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snailsnaps · 4 months

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Part 2 of a Computer Science student's analysis of the FNAF: SB intro

Full with tech lingo, abundant personal interpretations, and translations so that my tech illiterate fellas may undertand whatever the fuck im yapping about!

This post is written under the context that you've read my last analysis. I highly recommend you first check out these two posts before continuing with this one if you haven't already: > First post + Continuation ( IMPORTANT!! ) > An addition to the first post

Once you've read through those two (three?) posts, come back here! You're back? You've read them? Awesome! Let's begin then. =)

Reminder! This analysis has been done based off of my own understanding of the subject of both computing and programming - which I am currently studying. I would also like to yet again shout out this reddit post, that also gives a great perspective. Definitely check it out if you're interested later!

Also I have not re-read this, you may find typos - don't hold it against me, they will be fixed, someday =(

Now then, fellas, this is where shit gets wild.

Last post, I talked about the command box we can see at the top right corner of the intro - what each command did and how it basically corresponded to what happens to freddy in the events of the intro.

However, you might recall I mentioned a second command box, the one found at the left side of the screen. This command box is by far the most important piece of information we have throughout the entire duration of the intro. Mostly, because it changes 3 times.

It changes a total of 3 times in the time it takes for the right command box to finish.

Each time it changes, it displays new lines of code. And every single line of code it displays, tells us a lot about what is happening to Freddy.

This is the first block of code that we get:

system32> Get-568_win heat_869%yTnu_bl8 lvl_b> 228.wst serial.dot_btb rec.556> dtd /

You might inmediately realize that the first line of code from this command box matches exactly the one from the first analysis. Here are both of them as comparison.

Hopefully, you've already made the connection. This command box is the one possibly being run by the Glitchtrap/Vanny Virus. Whatever lines of code appear on the command box to the left, are the ones being executed by the Virus - and they affect Freddy in real time. However, the command box on the right ir Freddy's, so to speak.

Both CLI (command line interfaces) are being run at the same time - yet independently of one another. Keep this in mind.

I don't want to go too in depth with this first block of code. All you need to know is that it moves around some directories and runs something called 'dtd', wich could be a command or a program.

The next two blocks of code, however? Ohhh damn... This is it, fellas. This is what I've been waiting for.

Now, I want you to know that this doesn't quite resemble any 'real' code, at least not at first glance. I do believe that it is a very 'condensed' form of the Python programming language, since the syntaxing of the commands shown here somewhat resemble how a string written in Python would look like.

So, I have taken the time to try to decipher what each line means, and what they do. And well, let's just say it explains why Freddy wasn't affected by the Virus in the first place.

def rule(x) return warning78 init; self_overdrive abort(3)RTLKt abort(5)XGE END

This is the second block of code that we're shown, so lets break it down.

def rule(x) return warning78 init;

This string would define "rule" as a function, specifying "x" as the parameter. Basically, this line specifies that if the command rule is inputted, it should return whatever value (or argument) x has taken.

Normally, define is followed by a return function, which is why I've shown them together, as well as the init; command.

The command return followed by "warning78", makes it so whenever we call upon the function rule, it shows us whatever warning78 may be - and judging as to what happens in the intro, it could be any of the multiple warnings that appear in Freddy's GUI. Or it could also easily be the big "WARNING!" message that can be seen the entire time near the top of the screen.

Lastly, the init; command isn't exactly a standardized python command - but it is a common abreviation of the initialization command, where in the field of programming, it means "the assignment of an initial value for a data object or variable". Basically, it's when you assign the initial values and variables to a program so it can start.

All in all, these three lines create a command that, when called upon, gives out the warning78.

self_overdrive

Again, not really a python function, but important nontheless. This command doesn't have a specific meaning, but we can try to understand what it does.

The term overdrive doesn't really exist in the field of computing/programming. However, it is asociated with overclocking - "the practice of increasing the clock rate of a computer to exceed that certified by the manufacturer" - Overdrive is also a term in the field of music, also known as distorsion, which is when you force an amplifier to output past its limits.

Both of these definitions go around the same concept, pushing a computer to its limits so that it works better, or faster - even while it possibly damages the computer.

We can then assume that the function self_overdrive is making Freddy's system run pasts its usual limits. Which is why I believe Freddy's integrity level plumits during the intro.

abort(3)RTLKt abort(5)XGE END

Lastly, we have these three lines.

The abort function isn't a real python function - but I believe you can asume what it does. Both lines are attempting to kill something - a program, a process, another function... However, I am not sure wether these two are really functions, since they could very easily be error handling messages. Essencially, warning messages that the system returns when something crashes, for example.

The last line, END, specifies the end of this string of code.

Which leads us to the third and last block of code. The one which in my professional opinion, is the one that reveals to us why Freddy's cool with us during Security Breach! =]

report.NULL gridlock [ax674] init_task>void alloc [overload] SW.failure return /

THIS IS WHAT WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR, FRIENDS. THIS IS IT. This is the part where I had the most fun with this analysis...

report.NULL

Now, usually report, in the field of programming and software, it means to record or log something. For example an error log, or crash log. However, it being followed by NULL could also mean that this is an error handling message of sorts.

In computing, Null is, well, zero. It's nothing. It's the absence of value, when something that should be there, isn't.

From this, we could gather that this is a warning message that attempted to report something, yet failed to find anything to report back. No value at all.

...or, we could take this line literally. Taking into consideration that this code is being executed by the virus - this line of code could be taken as an attempt by the virus to stop Freddy's system from freaking out.

Remember that this entire code is being executed as Freddy's actively getting a big flashing WARNING! message. So, this line of code could be an effort to silence it, returning a null value to a warning message.

Both scenarios are plausible, so stick with the one you think fits best!

gridlock [ax674]

This one... man... this line was wild. It's where everything clicked for me. You will want to ignore the characters [ax674], what we truly care about is the first word: gridlock.

You see, a gridlock isn't really a term used in computing at all. It is a term refering to a "severe congestion of traffic, where continuous queues of vehicles block an entire intersection". HOWEVER, gridlock is also known as another term for deadlock.

A deadlock is what's known as a stalemate. A situation where two opposing parties come to a point where no progress can be made. In programming, it means basically the same thing.

A situation where two processes can't proceed, since both of them are waiting for the other to release a resource. Now, imagine this scenario. We have two processes, A and B, and two resources, R1 and R2.

Process A is currently using resource R1.

Process B is currently using resource R2.

Process A requests resource R2, but is blocked because it's held by Process B.

Process B requests resource R1, but is blocked because it's held by Process A.

Now... imagine this situation, but with Freddy, and the virus.

What we most likely have here, the line gridlock [ax674], is an error handling message, warning that a deadlock is ocurring. The string of characters beside it has no meaning, and could easily be but an error handling code of sorts.

init_task>void

I've explained before that init is the abreviation of initialization. So, we can gather that this is a command that is attempting to initialize a task. Now then, in the context of the previous line, this one could mean one of two things:

The virus is attempting to initialize a task (a set of instructions) called void.

The virus is attempting to initialize a task, however, due to the deadlock, it returns this line as an error message, indicating a void return. In programming, when a function returns the word void, it usually means that the function was not able to return a value. It is similar to Null, yet not the same.

Either of these could be a posibility, so I will leave it to your personal interpretation.

And here it when it all goes to hell...

alloc [overload] SW.failure return

Alloc is not a real function, but it can be considered an abreviation of the word allocation. In computing, the allocation is the assignment of memory and resources to the various processes the system may have.

Proper memory and resource allocation is very important in a computer. As you may know, a computer as a limited amount of RAM it can work with, and the same goes for it's processing power. But, for example, what happens when you try to allocate resources that aren't available?

Well, a lot of things may happen. Mainly, the program could hang, the process could freeze - or the entire system could crash!

Remember earlier, we saw that it was likely that Freddy and the virus were in a deadlock. Yet, the Virus tried to allocate more resources to itself... Which overloaded the system, and likely resulted in the next line.

SW.failure has no real meaning - but I've interpreted the first two characters [SW] as software. This would make this line an error message warning about a software failure.

So... What does this all mean? How does it all tie together? Why didn't Freddy get infected by the Virus? Because it got too greedy. It tried to allocate too many resources/memory, overloaded the system and crashed both itself and Freddy.

Why only Freddy, though? Why didn't this happen to the other animatronics? That... I'm not sure. I believe this is more of a lore question rather than computer question.

In my opinion, I don't think this was a case of 'Freddy knew that he was getting infected by a virus, and fought back'. I'm leaning more to the posibility of it being a 'wrong place wrong time' type of situation... or maybe 'right place right time'? In general, a lot of factors and a lot of different things happened that lead to this specific scenario happening.

Anyways, this is it! This has been my analysis - or nerdy infodumping, if you please.

I do hope that I was able to teach you something today, and that this whole analysis helps you understand the animatronics a bit better - and helps you with future fanfics, comics, AUs, artworks... whatever!

One last reminder - if you have any more questions about this stuff, my ask box is open! I love talking about this stuff!!

Oh, and, coming soon...

DJMM's Bouncer Mode ! A theory by a computer science student as to why it's still present, and why it makes him so aggressive.

#oh god is this post too long?#i hope this doesn't crash anyones phone im so sorry #anyways yea. DJMM bouncer mode explained coming soon #not me being a computer nerd AGAIN?#fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's #security breach #snailsnarks #fnaf djmm #fnaf dj music man

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mvltisstuff · 9 months

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plz do some conrad head cannons i loved ur cam ones🙏🙏🙏

hc’s for conrad!!

babe

anyway

i feel like conrad would be a little tough to crack open at first, like he’d open up slowly but surely

once he does, he adores when people genuinely listen to him and help him process

when he feels comfortable, if he has a panic attack, he knows he can go to you for comfort and he doesn’t have to be afraid

if you’re anxious, he’s def the type of guy to hold you until you calm down, and then talk about it if you still want to

before susannah’s death, she always noticed his smile get bigger when he was with you and it always reappeared after her death

i feel like bro def would get a good therapist (someone get him one ‼️)

he pretends to hate the nickname connie but secretly loves it whenever you say it

gets turned on by the most random things, even if they’re little

i know him and jere have their little moments but i feel like he’d genuinely do anything for his little brother

keep in mind i haven’t read the books so i’m not fully sure what happens 😭 i know some major plot points but no details really

if you get insecure, he always slyly shoots out little compliments and makes sure other people say you look amazing (you do)

he’s usually civil, but the second someone says something to you, it’s game over

FUCKS UP mario kart wii and had to finish jeremiah’s laps for him when they were younger

wants to call people his best friend, but isn’t sure if he’s theirs (same)

i think once he learns how to properly communicate (no hate), he would have a really good relationship with you

if you argue about something, he stays up all night thinking about it in fear of losing you. even if he thinks he’s right, he’ll try and make it up to you

bro i know the fishers grew up drinking milk with dinner every. single. night.

i feel like he would be cold a lot (idk why) but he always curls up more to you if he does

definitely active on twitter and always retweets the weird, funny tweets (or x i guess, kiss my ass elon!)

whenever he’s soaking wet, it’s a must that he runs up to you and shakes his hair and pecks your cheek (cannon???)

bro has a blankie idc (this is me projecting)

this is so mean but he 100% scared susannah whenever she walked into a room (probably before being diagnosed again 💀)

has a private story that he NEVER uses unless it’s to post embarrassing pics of everyone else

made his snap username something so humiliating and shut down whenever someone mentioned it

cried tears of joy when the update came out where you could change it

i tried to add a few silly ones in there, but i hope you enjoy these <3

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matan4il · 5 months

Text

To the anon who wrote me about the bodies...

If you have an issue with bodies being held hostage, you should hold accountable the party that introduced that element to the Israeli-Arab conflict. That would be Egypt, back in 1954. The Syrians have also followed suit since 1965.

Hamas and Hezbollah have taken this one step further, intentionally keeping Israel in the dark over whether those that these terrorists are holding hostage are alive or dead. Case in point, on Oct 7, 2000 Hezbollah murdered and kidnapped the bodies of 3 Israeli soldiers. The IDF was able to confirm by the next day that the soldiers were all at the very least wounded during the kidnapping. In June 2001, it turned out the UN had material about the kidnapping, that it did not share with Israel, despite its obligation to do so. On Oct 29, 2001 (a year after the kidnapping), Israel was able to announce the 3 soldiers had been murdered. Hezbollah continued to lie about it even after the confirmation. I don't remember at which point it was exactly, but I remember that Hezbollah released a pic that was supposed to be these soldiers alive. I remember that by this point, while the announcement that the soldiers are dead wasn't official yet, it was pretty clear they were, and I remember thinking how cruel Hezbollah was to intentionally torment the families with false hope. A similar thing happened again on Jul 12, 2006, when Hezbollah killed 5 Israeli soldiers, and then kidnapped the bodies of 2 of them. The terrorists lied about it. So imagine the shock and pain the families experienced, when a hostage deal was conducted in Jul 2008, and after two years of hoping and waiting, they got bodies instead of to be reunited with their living loved ones.

Currently, Hamas has been holding the bodies of Hadar Goldin and Oron Shaul since 2014. For over 9 years. For over 9 years, their families can't hold a funeral, and they get no closure.

And this one's maybe the most important point regarding the part of my post you quoted. Hamas isn't just holding the bodies hostage. Israel and Hamas agreed on the release of women and kids, and Israel made it clear it will not make any hostage deals, before all the living women and children are back in Israel, safe and sound. Intel shows Hamas is still holding at least 19 living women that it could release. That's... taking into account that the Bibas family, with 4 years old Ariel, and baby Kfir, might have been killed. Even then, Hamas could easily stick to the deal, and release the women it's holding, who are alive. Hamas is intentionally trying to force Israel to take dead bodies instead, while having to release living convicted terrorists in exchange, based on the current deal, which was made to free living women and kids. We know that statistically speaking, roughly 60% of released Palestinian terrorists return to terrorist activity, and attempt to murder again. That means Hamas is trying to force Israel's hand, to put the lives of even more Israelis on the line, without even getting our living hostages in return.

Hadar Goldin:

Oron Shaul:

Hamas is now holding the bodies of at least 6 murdered Israeli civilians. Most are old men and women. Possibly the bodies of a child and a baby. They're not soldiers. They're def not terrorists, who chose to try and carry out the murder of civilians. Here are their faces:

And that's not counting the bodies of our soldiers. We know Hamas is holding the kidnapped bodies of at least 3 of them. I just wanna remind you, most Israeli soldiers do not choose the army as a career. Their service is mandatory, and is a result of the on going terrorist attacks on Israeli civilians, which started before there even was a State of Israel, when the terrorist attacks were simply on Jews. Our soldiers, are mostly young people, they're our 19 and 20 years old kids, called to defend our 3 and 10 and 12 years old kids.They're human beings, too. They deserve burial, and their families deserve closure as well.

So how would you suggest Israel deals with this kind of inhumane depravity? What is it that we're allowed to do, when we're trying to get back the bodies, restore the dignity of our dead, and stop the torment of our grieving families and friends?

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esther-dot · 4 months

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Do you think Jon and Sansa will meet again at Castle Black, and from there, they will plan to take Winterfell? Or will Sansa take Winterfell on her own and reunite with Jon along the way? I’m of the idea of two lost souls who, when united, find the strength in each other to take the land of their family. But I don’t know, I haven’t finished the books yet so I need guidance on this.

I don’t consider myself an ASOIAF expert, anon so I don't offer guidance, but I will def share my thoughts with you!

In order to talk about this, I'm afraid there are some ADWD spoilers, though. If you mind that, maybe revisit this post after you've read it? Short version, I agree with you. Sansa should be involved in retaking Winterfell because we need a Stark there:

Battles had been fought at Winterfell before, but never one without a Stark on one side or the other. (ADWD, Jon VII)

but I think the reunion happens first because of the The Girl in Grey theory. I'll explain more below the cut due to the major Jon spoiler.

In ADWD, a character named Melisandre tells Jon about a vision she has:

She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander's Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said. "Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's. Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. "You will freeze your fingers off," Jon warned. "If that is the will of R'hllor. Night's powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god's holy fire." "You heart does not concern me. Just your hands."

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" "… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will." She gazed at Ghost. "May I touch your … wolf?" The thought made Jon uneasy. "Best not." "He will not harm me. You call him Ghost, yes?" "Yes, but …" "Ghost." Melisandre made the word a song. The direwolf padded toward her. Wary, he stalked about her in a circle, sniffing. When she held out her hand he smelled that too, then shoved his nose against her fingers. Jon let out a white breath. "He is not always so …" "… warm? Warmth calls to warmth, Jon Snow." Her eyes were two red stars, shining in the dark. At her throat, her ruby gleamed, a third eye glowing brighter than the others. Jon had seen Ghost's eyes blazing red the same way, when they caught the light just right. "Ghost," he called. "To me." The direwolf looked at him as if he were a stranger. Jon frowned in disbelief. "That's … queer." "You think so?" She knelt and scratched Ghost behind his ear. "Your Wall is a queer place, but there is power here, if you will use it. Power in you, and in this beast. You resist it, and that is your mistake. Embrace it. Use it." I am not a wolf, he thought. "And how would I do that?" "I can show you." Melisandre draped one slender arm over Ghost, and the direwolf licked her face. "The Lord of Light in his wisdom made us male and female, two parts of a greater whole. In our joining there is power. Power to make life. Power to make light. Power to cast shadows." "Shadows." The world seemed darker when he said it. "Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall." Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall. A girl in grey on a dying horse, he thought. Coming here, to you. Arya. He turned back to the red priestess. Jon could feel her warmth. She has power. The thought came unbidden, seizing him with iron teeth, but this was not a woman he cared to be indebted to, not even for his little sister. "Dalla told me something once. Val's sister, Mance Rayder's wife. She said that sorcery was a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." "A wise woman." Melisandre rose, her red robes stirring in the wind. "A sword without a hilt is still a sword, though, and a sword is a fine thing to have when foes are all about. Hear me now, Jon Snow. Nine crows flew into the white wood to find your foes for you. Three of them are dead. They have not died yet, but their death is out there waiting for them, and they ride to meet it. You sent them forth to be your eyes in the darkness, but they will be eyeless when they return to you. I have seen their pale dead faces in my flames. Empty sockets, weeping blood." She pushed her red hair back, and her red eyes shone. "You do not believe me. You will. The cost of that belief will be three lives. A small price to pay for wisdom, some might say … but not one you had to pay. Remember that when you behold the blind and ravaged faces of your dead. And come that day, take my hand." The mist rose from her pale flesh, and for a moment it seemed as if pale, sorcerous flames were playing about her fingers. "Take my hand," she said again, "and let me save your sister." (ADWD, Jon VI)

The vision keeps coming up and dictates some of Jon's decisions. Jeyne Poole (Sansa's friend) was forced to marry Ramsay in the guise of being Arya, she escapes, and people expect her to reunite with Jon and be the girl in grey (escaping a marriage, she was pretending to be his sister). Others point to Alys Karstark who runs to Jon to escape a marriage. The problem is, Mel doesn't know who it is, she only knows sister. People pick Jeyne because of the Arya connection, but neither she nor Alys are Jon's sister. And Jon has another sister, Sansa.

I would argue the reason that the girl in grey is Sansa (ie Sansa will flee North to escape LF's plots and reunite with Jon before Winterfell is taken/she is in a position of power), is if you read Jon's passage about the girl in grey, Jon being dead is written all over it. His white breath, the reference to him as a stranger, Jon telling himself he isn't a wolf...you see, here is the major spoiler...

Jon is assassinated at the end of TWOW.

Now, he may not actually be dead-dead, some of us have said he might be in a coma like Bran, but a) we believe he warged into Ghost (I am not a wolf--he will need to come back to himself, not lose himself in Ghost), b) the stranger = Jon is dead, c) the white breath = his body being cold cuz he's dead etc. The other side of this is, the way Jon sees Mel and remembers a different redhead can be viewed as foreshadowing for recently undead Jon seeing a redhead and mistaking her for Ygritte. The description of Mel's words like a song made people think of Sansa (it's been speculated Sansa's singing will help Jon remember things post rez/help him return to himself), and Ghost's strangely positive reaction to Mel may foreshadow how he reacts to Sansa as a familiar person. So, when I read that passage, it sounded to me like Sansa and Jon will be reuniting shortly after his rez, or even perhaps before his rez, so yes, I imagine that happens at the Wall.

Way back in 2013, a famous Jonsa essay predicted that Jon and Sansa would be reunited first of all the Starks, and then in 2016 that happened on the show which spurred a lot more discussion in the Jonsa fandom about Sansa being the girl in grey in the books as well.

I'll link some additional posts with various thoughts on how it might go.

Jon as the Stranger, Sansa as a silent sister. Pertinent quotes:

Then one morning she spied three women in the cowled grey robes of the silent sisters loading a corpse into their wagon. (ACOK, Arya VII) The women in grey bowed their heads. The silent sisters do not speak to the living, Catelyn remembered dully, but some say they can talk to the dead. (ACOK, Catelyn V) Grey was the color of the silent sisters, the handmaidens of the Stranger. (AFFC, Brienne VIII) When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss." (AFFC, Cersei IV)

@loveroflemons wrote a post in 2017 talking about Mel's prophecy and the map of the North to explain why Sansa is the Girl in Grey here. @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir has a post explaining that Sansa is Ned's narrative heir and her path North will follow his here, and some general ideas for her TWOW story here.

@istumpysk talks about The Girl in Grey foreshadowing here. @aegor-bamfsteel tried to give us a time table here, @redteabaron has talked about the possibility that Sansa will be hunted by Ramsay for some Red Riding Hood parallels here, That and Sansa meeting Ghost while Jon is still out of it is discussed here as well. And this post talks about Jon saving Sansa from Ramsay while warged into Ghost using some king’s prize/thief quotes. I also found a Tolkien poem (Martin is a massive fan) that has Girl in Grey vibes here (not proof, just fun).

Anyway, it's a very popular Jonsa theory, for many of us, a given at this point. For a different ask i scrolled some BNF blogs and they mocked it a lot, called us delusional because they can point to the other girls as fulfilling the prophecy, but to me, that prophecy takes up too much space for it to disappear without a real payoff. It makes sense to me that Martin would use that vision to prep us for Sansa arriving in the North.

Let me know what you think after you read ADWD!

#soon i'll post links for book verse girl in grey fics anon #not meta but jonsa fics have a funny habit of predicting things to come!#jonsa #dot chat #the girl in grey

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