#JUST SO YOU ALL KNOW !!!!!!!!! IM LANGUISHING HERE!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 4 months

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PLEASE!!! im on my hands n knees begging. poly!mauraders with a hyper partner that give off golden retriever vibes I BEG

Happy to oblige my love!

poly!marauders x golden retriever!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius is still in the process of waking up when you come inside, bags of groceries in your arms.

“Morning!” You lean over the top of the couch to kiss his cheek as you go by, all but skipping into the kitchen. “Have you been outside? It’s gorgeous.”

Sirius levels you with a deadpan look. “Do I look like I’ve been outside?”

“You should,” you say, undeterred by his attitude. “Spring is in the air! The sun is out, the trees are starting to get their little flowers—I even bought us some tulips to put on the table.”

“That’s nice,” he mumbles, sinking deeper into the cushions. He knows he really should help you unload the groceries, but it feels like his bones have been replaced by barbells. Luckily, he hears a set of footsteps coming down the hall.

“Hey, sunshine.” James comes in fully dressed, pecking you on the lips before starting the coffee machine. “What’d you get?”

“I got tulips,” you tell him excitedly. “Have you been outside? It’s a really lovely day.”

James smiles, sliding one of the bags away from you as you start snipping the stems of your tulips so they’ll fit in a vase. “Yeah, I poked my head out for a sec. It is nice.” His glance slides over to where Sirius languishes on the couch, grin going somewhat cocky. “Morning, Sirius. You could help with the groceries, you know.”

Sirius waves his hand. “Two of you are enough.”

The coffee machine starts to gurgle, summoning Remus like a siren’s call. He trudges out of the bedroom, sleep clinging to his frame. Sirius opens his arms commiseratingly.

“It’s hardly ten,” Remus grunts as he collapses into them. “How have they already been productive?”

“I know, they’re so perky.” Sirius pets down the cowlick at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “It’s freakish.”

“You’re freakish,” you say brightly, bringing them each a cup of coffee. Sirius has no clue how you’ve managed to unload the groceries so fast, or where you found the time to doctor his coffee the way he likes it. You’re like a machine. You laugh giddily when he nips at your fingers as you pull away. “Remus, wait until you see the weather outside, it’s so perfect. I think we should have a picnic. What do you say?”

“I say it’s too early for decisions,” he mumbles, sitting up off Sirius so he can drink his coffee. “But that sounds nice.”

You beam as if you’ve gotten a full-stop go-ahead, breezing back towards the kitchen. “We can make brownies,” you say, bringing your vase of tulips to the table, “and sandwiches, and lemonade. And we can go to that park with the stream—what’s the one?”

You look to James, who in turn looks to Remus.

“Mayfield,” Remus says.

“Right! We can go to Mayfield park, and hike over to that meadow-y area.” Sirius glances your way, and you’ve already started taking down the ingredients for brownies. “It’s so sunny and nice out, you guys won’t believe it. We can bring a frisbee or something.”

“Hiking and frisbee?” Sirius murmurs to Remus. “I don’t like the sound of all this activity.” Remus snorts.

“That sounds great, angel.” James apprehends you before you can start pouring things into the mixing bowl, putting a mug of decaf tea in your hand and steering you towards the living room. “I think these guys are going to take a bit to be ready for all that, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“Right.” You look a bit abashed, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce in the big armchair. “Yeah, we don’t have to go, like, right now. You guys just woke up.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Sirius says wryly. But when you fidget in your seat and he can feel James’ glare boring into the side of his head, he throws in an eye roll of feigned reluctance. “Get over here.”

You happily transfer into his lap, letting him brush your hair aside and squealing when he plants a wet, squelching kiss on your neck. Remus, sensing that Sirius’ attention has a new captive, leans back into James, who winds his arms around Remus’ middle gamely.

“Now why would we go outside,” Sirius asks, nosing at the underside of your jaw as you giggle and squirm, “when we can just do this all day?”

“You could just as easily do it outside,” James points out. Sirius whines petulantly against your skin, setting you giggling again.

“He’s right,” you reason, transferring your tea to your other hand so you can wrestle Sirius away from your neck. “We could do this in the sun, with wildflowers and trees around.”

He pouts. “But you know I burn easily,” he says, “and poor Remus’ hip can’t take the hike.”

“You don’t know what I can take,” Remus huffs, and Sirius realizes he’s chosen the wrong avenue for his argument. “If my hip hurts, it’s only because your mum was so rough last night.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy being compared to Sirius’ mum,” says James. Remus’ ears go a bit pink as he mumbles an apology.

“I won’t let you burn,” you tell Sirius. “You can use sunblock, or we’ll find you a nice shady spot. And Remus, if your hip’s bothering you, we can always find another park. One without a hike.”

Any vexation that might usually be summoned in Remus by mention of his aches and pains melts away in the face of your earnestness. “Thanks, dove, but I’m alright,” he says. “It’s fine today.”

James rubs the skin just above Remus’ hip lovingly, and you send him a beaming smile. “It’s probably because it’s so nice out,” you say.

“Yeah, Sirius,” James turns on him. “It’s so nice out. Do you really want to miss out on what could be the single most beautiful day of the year?”

Sirius really could give a shit, but he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let’s picnic.”

“Yay!” You won’t be contained any longer, hopping up from his lap. “I’m going to go get the frisbee.”

“The frisbee’s in the attic,” Remus muses, then raises his voice so you can hear him. “Don’t go up in the attic by yourself.”

“I can get it,” you call back.

“Don’t,” he warns. “You need someone to hold the ladder, just—” The ladder groans as it comes down and Remus echoes it, starting to stand. But James pats him on the shoulder, encouraging Remus back down as he gets up.

“Slow your roll, angel,” he calls ahead. “I’m coming.”

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beonetta · 2 years

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#i just found out that one of 2 of my best friends' boyfriends lives 2 hours away #and shes so in love and so happy and i am endlessly happy for her esp bc her last relationship was GARBAGE #but i just know that shes probably gonna move up with him eventually and my other best friend is ABSOLUTELY moving away again at some point #which ive made slightly more peace with bc i know it makes them happy and theyve already done it once before #and i had the other friend to help support me through it #but the idea that theyre both gonna be moving away and leave me all alone with just... aquantences. really hurts and scares me #im in 100% support of both of them getting out of town to chase their happiness but im really scared of being left behind missing them #esp bc i have bad object permanence and im really bad at maintaining online relationships #hell i was even wishing that id have a friend in that town bc the one that did live there moved out of state and its just far enough away #that goinf there for just 1 thing is a pain in the ass and its easier when you have a buddy that lives there #but i wanna keep seeing her every week like i already do dammit :(((((((#the idea of having 0 close friends nearby is really hard but i wont let my friends languish in this shitty town for my sake #even if i kinda feel stuck here due to family stuff #and the thing is i know this future is probably pretty far off but i also kinda.... know it will happen....#at least my tarot cards have me pretty convinced #but i cant help myself about being upset about it today

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bonefall · 4 months

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bones im doing the math and a stellers jay cooked properly can feed like four cats. no wonder clan cats have so many rules about prey distribution birds are so full of nutrition you can just coast on it. bones i did the math and if they take down an eagle they could feed like a hundred cats oh god boar meat is so worth it isnt it

EDIT: Boar math update

The average male boar is 440 pounds, which is 200 kilograms, 200,000 g x 5 = 1 million calories.

That will feed an entire Clan for months. All through the three months of winter. Boar meat is sososososo worth it, it's INSANE. ThunderClan should actually be The Fat Clan, these guys are partaking of the sweet fat of the hog and absolutely rolling in extra calories.

(This is actually why I draw a lot of my ThunderClan cats with bellies, like Lionblaze. This man finds himself in the path of food because his Clan has lots to offer lmao)

^ Lionblaze the first day Willowpelt took him on as a secondary apprentice

Ducks are a REALLY good target for Clans, also. Average mallard drake is 3.5 pounds, 1.5 kilos, 9,000 calories. One duck feeds the entire Clan for a day.

I will say though, EXTRA knowledge; remember that calories don't necessarily satiate hunger! A lot of factors do, but you can summarize them with weight in the context of cats. My cat's usually full around 85 grams, but I know some cats who can hoover a big can of food in a single sitting.

(long answer: protein, fiber, thickness, if you had a drink beforehand, eating slowly, etc. But we're talking about prey meat here)

So your stellar's jay example is usually about 100 to 120 grams (though since my guys are in England, they wouldn't encounter those), which would basically be a meal two cats share. If that's breakfast they'll have hit all their calories for the day, but they'll still feel hungry for lunch and dinner.

This is why soups are so cool btw. This was a soup post all along. It's soupaganda time

Not only do you get that boost from cooking the meat here, but the value is more evenly distributed through the whole dish, the weight of the broth languishes in the stomach to make you feel full, AND ALSO IT'S A CLEAN SOURCE OF HYDRATION. You BOILED the water and didn't even think about it. That 120g prey item is now nutrition for 3 cats, a whole meal for 6, plus an easy way to get more water into sick warriors who may not feel like eating.

Get yourself some mushrooms, a couple pieces of prey, whatever leftovers that would otherwise go to waste, and BAM you've got your whole Clan stuffed and happy, even if they didn't manage to hit the caloric minimum of the day.

#The biggest flying bird that your basic British BB!Cat would be encountering is a wood pigeon #Which is larger than a stellar's jay weighing around a pound #nutrition guide #clan culture #better bones au

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archie-sunshine · 5 months

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Survey Says-!(18+ RODIMUS/EVERYONE)

Chapter 1.5: THE FORBIDDEN NON CANON DRIFTROD CHAPTER (Rodimus/Drift)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Read on AO3 Here! Other chapters here!

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FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

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Authors notes: THIS! CHAPTER! IS! NOT! CANON! I wrote this bc im in driftrod brainrot, and bc i had a really funny idea for it. This takes place directly one day after the first chapter, in an au where most things are the same but drift doesn't get kicked off the lost light

CHAPTER TAGS: Rodimus/Drift, knifeplay(??? does it count if accidental), desk/office sex, possessive sex, rodimus is an oblivious switch and assumes drift is a bottom, drift is a top, getting caught

Rodimus wouldn’t say he was seething. Of course he wouldn’t! Because he would never admit to anyone that absolutely anything Ultra Magnus had done was getting to him.

Well. Almost no one.

Rodimus released the knife he’d been using to gouge images of Ultra Magnus exploding into his desk, letting it clatter to the tabletop as he leaned back and groaned in frustration. It had only been a cycle since the beginning of his punishment, but Rodimus was NOT having it. He had to keep up his meetings, it was the best idea he’d had in decacycles and he wasn’t about to throw away all his good work just because Ultra Magnus hated fun.

There was an itch in the back of his processor. It wasn’t even that he was cycled up or aroused in any way, it was just the fact that he couldn’t even if he wanted to that made him… skittish. Skittish was the right word. Rodimus offlined his optics and wracked his mind to think of who might maybe, possibly be cool enough to keep quiet to Ultra Magnus about helping him with his situation.

Who was he kidding, it was obviously going to be Drift.

Rodimus was lounging impatiently in his chair. He had pinged Drift ages ago, what was taking him so- Ah.

Rodimus winced at the sound of tires squealing against floor tile and indignant shouting, gathering himself up out of his languishing to lean nervously over his desk towards the approaching sound. His office door slid open, and there Drift stood, chassis heaving with the apparent exertion of speeding through the halls, a sword already in hand.

“What’s the- *hah* What’s the situation?” Drift wheezed, glancing around the room and awkwardly shifting out of his stance when he realized the two of them were alone.

Rodimus made a mental note not to send Drift messages like ‘Need you now. My office. Help.’ again. “...Heyyyyyy, buddy-” Rodimus started, trying for a casual smile.

Drift sheathed his sword, his nervous look melting into affectionate exasperation. “... It’s about the magnetizer, isn't it.”

“YES! Fine, primus, yes it's about the magnetizer.” Rodimus huffed, throwing himself back in his chair and letting his legs fall open as Drift casually locked the door and approached the desk. His amica rounded the desk and leaned on it, pensively stroking his chin as he looked down at the magnetizer attached to him.

Rodimus glanced away, disregarding how the other mech’s contemplative look made his tanks twist. He swatted away the imagery of Drift being his knight in shining plating, come to relieve him from his terrible prison, reminding himself that this was, in fact, humiliating and stupid. Thanks again Magnus. Rodimus’ finial twitched a bit under Drift’s gaze. He cleared his vocalizer meaningfully.

“Hm?” Drift blinked, seemingly pulled from his own thoughts. “What?”

“Wh- Do you think you can get it off? Do I need to ask? I assumed it was pretty fragging obvious what I want?!” Rodimus squinted at his amica incredulously.

“Oh!!” Drift shook his helm, before quickly correcting himself and nodding. “Y-yeah! Sure, I’ll give it a try!”

Drift had caught Rodimus in some pretty unflattering scrapes before. It came with the territory: Rodimus was often suicidally impulsive and unflappably self confident. When the crew satisfaction survey had come around, Drift had known it could mean only the worst for his amica, though he’d never admit that to his face. He’d hoped that Rodimus would take it well, and outwardly he certainly did! He’d been proud of him for that.

… And then Rodimus had shown up in Drift’s habsuite with a mostly empty bottle of high grade dangling from his digits and his optics full of tears. It was impossible to say the right thing that night. How could he say no to anything with his amica weeping in his arms like that? He’d thought he’d just been babbling, so he’d nodded and listened, laughed and told him what a good idea it was to frag his way through the whole crew to change their minds.

If anything, Drift was responsible for not stopping this from happening. In his eyes at least.

“AND! UGH!! He goes- ‘I’ve heard you interfacing in two supply closets’- OKAY first of all, creep, peeping tom, that’s gotta be some mark on his record too, right?” Rodimus ranted.

Drift had to admit Rodimus’ ability to bitch in the stupidest positions was in some ways admirable. It was at least amusing. “Uhuh, yeah.” Drift chuckled, gnawing at his lower derma as he worked one of his ankle blades under one of the support bars on the magnetizer.

“Right!? And he says- oh you’ll hate this- he says he saw the transfluid trail that I left after I fragged around with Powerflash-” Rodimus sat up a bit, jostling his panels just a bit too close to the point of the extra knife Drift was handling. Drift’s fuelpump nearly stopped, and he turned his free servo to pinch Rodimus’ thigh plating. “OW!”

“Stop. Moving. I’m gonna cut something off and you’re never gonna forgive me.” Drift whispered, leaning his elbow bodily onto Rodimus’ thigh and beginning to work at the latch at the top of the device. He refused to let himself be distracted by the way Rodimus’ thighs twitched every time he brought one of his knives down towards his panels, nor did he react to the way the panels in question were beginning to heat up.

“Well couldn’t you have used- I don’t know- TOOLS? Instead of KNIVES?” Rodimus hissed petulantly.

“Couldn’t you have elaborated on what you needed more than ‘HELP’?” Drift whispered back calmly, not bothering to look at Rodimus’ likely aghast face. He could feel it in his field anyway, and he didn’t need to be distracted by his endearingly upset expressions. He slid the fine edge of the dagger under the latch of the magnetizer carefully, stalled by Rodimus’ quickening venting making his frame quiver.

“Pff…. Pfft…. Yeah. Probably.” Rodimus admitted finally, a tiny bit of shakiness in his voice. “Uh- is there uh-” He cleared his vocalizer.

“You’re shaking, Roddy-” Drift observed.

“NO- I’m not even- Shut up-” Rodimus blurted out.

“Try to hold still okay?” He brought a soothing servo up to rub gently over his belly. He ignored Rodimus’ vents hitching, ignored the heat of his frame, ignored the strangled little whine Rodimus let out when Drift nudged the knife a little further under the latch. It didn’t give. Drift frowned. “I’m gonna give it- Okay, hold your vents I’m going to do something and theres gonna be sudden movements-”

“Drift- Sudden movements and my junk do not go together!!” Rodimus whimpered out. The strain in Rodimus’ voice made Drift’s spark wriggle in concern… and, to a lesser degree… No, nothing else, just concern. Drift cleared his processor. He could feel guilty about any of his thoughts later, Rodimus needed help.

“Okay- well- I think I need more leverage anyway.” Drift sighed, carefully sliding the pocket knife out from under the latch and standing up from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“Leverage-?” Rodimus began to ask, cut off as Drift swiftly straddled Rodimus’ waist where he laid on the desk, leaning down over Rodimus’ panels and deftly grasping the handle of the knife Rodimus had been using to carve drawings into the table. “Oh- Okay- alright, cool, don’t warn me before you do stuff, it's fine.”

Drift ignored him and began to work the blade under the latch. It slipped a few times, bumping into the edge of one of the support bars and leaving a superficial scratch in the paint above Rodimus’ panels. Rodimus reacted with a hiss as if he’d really been stabbed. “A-ah- careful!!”

“I’m being careful!! You could do with sharpening your knife more, it doesn’t slip if it's sharp.” Drift scolded.

“Oh so I’m the aft for not sharpening my drawing knife?” Rodimus sniped.

“I think you’re the aft for not just using a stylus and datapad.” Drift teased, catching the edge of the latch and carefully wiggling the blade back underneath. The desk knife’s length gave better leverage for the task at hand, but it was still a struggle to pry it up. The modesty panel’s plating was delicate and thin, the knife he was holding could easily pierce it. Drift bit his derma, worrying it between his dentas as he carefully angled his elbow and began to pry.

“...aaaaAaahh- h-hey- careful-!” Rodimus whined out again, his legs tensing up but his abdomen remaining perfectly still. Drift appreciated the effort it took for him to keep still, he had to admit he would be the same were there a knife pointed at his array. Drift slowly brought his free servo up over Rodimus’ hip, using his thumb to help shimmy the knife a little deeper under the latch. Had Rodimus always been such a whiner? Drift readjusted himself, wriggling his hips and settling into a more comfortable position. “A-ahah-” Rodimus gasped out.

“Be shoosh, I’m getting there…” Drift cooed out absently. He was focused on more important things than Rodimus’ childish whimpering, like not cutting his panels off, or making sure that Rodimus couldn’t feel the warmth gathering in his panels. He refused to stop making those… stupid… distracting noises. It was making things harder than they should have been and Drift’s internal dialogue was getting mean, they had to get this over with.

Drift adjusted himself again, sliding his knee joints back until they were almost under Rodimus’ armpits and leaning over to get closer. He could feel more of Rodimus’ heat this way, which was, of course, secondary to him being close enough to properly pry the magnetizer’s latch up with Rodimus’ desk knife.

“D-Drift-” Rodimus breathed out, barely loud enough for Drift to hear. He laid his servos hesitantly against the other bot’s thighs.

“I’m almost there, Roddy.” Drift answered without letting him finish. He felt the knife’s tip make contact with something. Bingo! He jammed his thumb between the flat of the blade and Rodimus’ plating.

“W-wait- Maybe-!” Rodimus yelped out, cut off as Drift pushed down hard on the handle and the magnetizer popped off with a ZAP!

“Wahey-!!” Drift cheered. Several of the smaller knives still bracing the bars of the magnetizer tumbled down onto the floor, along with the magnetizer itself, which bounced away before coming to a stop against the wall. Drift shuffled forwards a bit on his knees as he sat up and looked over his shoulder “That wasn’t bad, now was it you big-”

Snkt-!

Drift froze. Rodimus stared up at him, pinkfaced with energon in flushed embarrassment. Drift glanced around, coming face to face with exactly what he expected. Rodimus’ modesty panels had popped open the second they were freed. He wasn’t exactly doused but he was certainly dewy, his protoform half plump and spike housing open.

“... ‘m sorry-” Rodimus started, voice strangled with shame.

Drift’s intake felt dry. “... Are you that pent up after one day?” He mumbled.

“... I keep it pretty regular, man, I dunno-” Rodimus mumbled bashfully. Drift chuckled, running his servo fondly over Rodimus’ thigh as he tucked the desk knife into one of his drawers. By the time he leaned back, Rodimus was making a pained noise as his spike began to pressurize.

“... Well how about we move our one on one up, huh?” Drift purred coquettishly, cringing internally at his stupid joke. Rodimus huffed out a laugh.

“I suppose I could clear my schedule.” Rodimus answered, stroking his servos down over Drift’s thigh plating, meeting to grasp possessively at the protoform by his hips and modesty panels. Drift sighed, his optics flickering offline. He savoured the feeling. Rodimus’ hands were always warm and wanting, eagerly waiting for Drift’s go ahead. The waiting was new… and not unwelcome.

“So… You said that when you’re doing these one on ones…” Drift began, drawing his servos up to Rodimus’ open array. He felt the other mech’s chassis quiver. “... its whatever the other mech wants, eh?”

Rodimus steadied his vocalizer for a second, rubbing Drift’s hips gently. “You got it! Because I’m incredibly gracious and selfless like that.”

Drift hesitated for a moment. There was a heat in his tanks forming, the kind he pushed down whenever the two of them fooled around. He knew what Rodimus liked, he liked it too… but… Drift drew two digits gently through the lips of Rodimus’ valve. The implication was enough.

Rodimus’ voice was strained, words coming out in a breathless whimper. “Y-yeah- We- uh.. We can do that!”

Drift grinned, laying a grateful kiss against Rodimus’ spike. “Thanks, Roddy.” He dismounted his amica with a flourish, hitting the floor between his thighs and giving a proud little grin. “I can already feel my approval rating going up.”

Rodimus scoffed out a laugh. “As if it could get any higher, you can’t get enough of me.”

Drift chuckled warmly, leaning forwards and wrapping his digits around Rodimus’ spike. “Guilty.” He sighed, drinking in the gentle part of Rodimus’ dermas and the dimming of his optics. He brought his free servo up off Rodimus’ thigh to his valve, rolling the pad of his thumb over his node tenderly. The shiver Rodimus gave at the gesture made him salivate.

Focus.

Drift released Rodimus’ spike and leaned back. His own panels slid back easily, his spike pressurizing out to push against the plush mesh of Rodimus’ valve. He took hold of the base of his spike, bracing his free servo against the desk and teasing the tip of his spike between his lips. Rodimus moaned lowly, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Drift’s servos work, his face still flushed.

Drift swallowed dryly, keeping his vents under control. Rodimus’ fans were already flipped on, a steady breeze of framewarmed air filling the room. Drift’s tip met with the first calipers of Rodimus’ valve, his optics flickering off and dermas parting as he began to press further in.

“A-ah- Drift?” Rodimus breathed. Drift shivered at his tone, light and breathless, as if he were only half there.

“What is it?” Drift asked, digging his digits into the desk to keep himself in control. He could already tell Rodimus was so soft and tight, even just the first calipers and his outer mesh pressing against his tip made him feel breathless with need.

“... You do like when I spike you right?” Rodimus mumbled bashfully. Drift’s optics came back online, locking with his amica’s. Suddenly keeping his breath felt pretty easy.

“... Roddy…” Drift chided, beginning to draw his hips back. He was stopped as Rodimus’ legs came around to squeeze his waist.

“I-I just didn’t expect you to- uh- y’know- want this sort of thing-” Rodimus averted his gaze. Drift blinked, squinting at his faceplate. He… He didn’t really assume that the first time they’d fragged- When Drift had let him- and he thought-

“... Roddy, did you assume that because-” Drift stammered for a moment. “You- because I bottomed that I-”

Rodimus faced him again, looking equally confused. “You’re not a bottom?”

Drift searched for any amount of sarcasm in his field and came up dry. He distantly felt his optic twitch. He twisted his faceplate into what he hoped didn’t look like a forced smile. “Nope!” He gritted out. His servo came away from his spike and gripped into Rodimus’ thigh tightly.

He took no malicious pleasure in driving his spike into Rodimus’ valve as hard as he could. The pleasure he took was all entirely arousal as the pompous, idiotic- ahem- wonderfully talented and handsome mech below him dropped his intake open and let out a punched out cry. It was just as tight as he’d thought, soft with silicone and warmed protoform, each caliper perfectly calibrated, each node grinding and sparking with charge against those in his spike. Drift hoped his moan didn’t sound like a snarl, but from the bewilderment in Rodimus’ expression, it likely came out more feral than he’d meant.

It was getting much too hard to care about what he meant as he dug his hands tight into the protoform around Rodimus’ hips and began to thrust. There were a thousand things he wanted to say about the gathering coolant on Rodimus’ golden chassis, about the twitch of the pistons in his spread thighs, about the curl of his dermas as he moaned out in pleasure. He said, “You s-should get to know me better~” Instead, and leaned his frame to curl over his amica’s possessively. He had no untoward feelings surrounding Rodimus’ plans save for the regret that he had caused it, but in that moment as he hunched over him, he couldn’t help but feel feral in his jealousy.

His hips pistoned away, the loud clank of their frames meeting filling the room. Rodimus shakily grabbed at Drift’s finial and drew him into an openmouthed kiss. It was searing, their overheated frames exchanging steam as their glossas mingled. Drift wormed a hand between their bodies, taking hold of Rodimus’ spike and beginning to stroke. He greedily swallowed the mewling groan Rodimus let out into his intake. He swiped his thumb against the tip and massaged the protoform with his digits, cruelly teasing the oversensitive mesh. Drift couldn’t help it. He felt buzzed on the noises Rodimus was making alone. Every whimper and keen set Drift’s plating ablaze. Long pushed down urges bubbled to the surface, urges to tease, bully, ruin. Drift’s engine rumbled low with want.

Rodimus pulled back with a gasp, a string of drool connecting their dermas for a moment. “P-primus, you’re- ah- e-eager- huhh?”

Drift leaned in, nipping as gently as he could manage at Rodimus’ neck cabling. “Says the one who’s spike popped out in my face the second the magnetizer was off.” He purred, mouthing up his cheek kibble to run his glossa along Rodimus’ audial. Rodimus shied away from the touch with an annoyed hiss. Drift snickered. He always hated when Drift did that. He snapped his hips forwards, his tip jabbing hard against Rodimus’ ceiling node.

Rodimus groaned out, his helm tipping back and exposing his throat. Drift swallowed the drool accumulating in his intake and grabbed hold of Rodimus’ legs, bending them forwards towards his chassis. “A-ah- nnh- Drift-” Rodimus complained.

Drift adjusted his calves over his shoulders and pressed in. The noise Rodimus made sent arcs of charge down Drift’s spinal strut. The look on his face was immaculate, brows knit together in mild discomfort only outweighed by the desire and need in his field washing over Drift in waves. His mouth lolled open, unable to close as he moaned out in enjoyment. A bead of oral solvent ran down his jaw just so.

Oh Drift was going to be a monster about this.

His amica’s legs hiked up and his valve cycling and warm with need, Drift began to thrust again in earnest. He felt greedy, mouthing along Rodimus’ exposed neck and groping at his slender waist as he got his fill. He fragged like it was the last time he’d be able to, fans blasting and engine growling.

Primus, why didn’t he do this sooner? He brought one hand down between them, skipping past Rodimus’ spike and thumbing at his round, blinking little node. Rodimus howled, digits digging into the table, thighs squeezing even tighter around Drift’s waist.

He needed this warmth, this tightness. Drift’s optics blazed with uncharacteristic possessiveness. He dragged Rodimus down into each thrust, their hips meeting with a clank and an ever loudening smack as their soft arrays made contact. He leaned over him, itching to tell him how soft and wet he was, how good he looked splayed out for him, how much he knew Rodimus was a desperate little spikeslut.

“F-frag, Roddy, Y-you’re so amazing-” He babbled out instead. Rodimus arched his back and whined as if he’d been burned. His valve cycled down tight against Drift’s spike, eliciting a breathless groan. He could feel his edge fast approaching. He dimly wondered how long he’d be able to keep Rodimus for. Long enough for a second or third round he hoped.

“O-Oh s-slag- Drift I’m-” Rodimus whimpered out. Drift’s finial twitched, surveying the perfect spot on Rodimus’ neck to sink his dentas into.

He was beginning to lean down to make his move when he heard the distant beep of an override key being used.

The light of the hallway spilled across the scene. Or- at least the light of the hallway that could eke past the imposing form of Ultra Magnus did.

Drift froze. Rodimus, craning his neck to look, also froze. Ultra Magnus sighed disappointedly.

“... Well on the bright side-” Drift said, hoping to break the silence as they walked stiltedly along the hull of the ship, boltgun in hand.

“What the frag is the bright side here, Drift, go on, slaggin enlighten me.” Rodimus bit back. Stupid magnus, stupid universal override key… STUPID DRIFT! Rodimus apologized to the internal hypothetical Drift in his brain, then verbally, to the actual Drift that he’d taken a tone with. “Sorry.”

Drift chuckled, kneeling down next to Rodimus and bolting the patch of plating into place. “The bright side is, now you don’t stick out so much.” He joked, leaning back and motioning at the matching yellow magnetizer now attached to his modesty panels.

Rodimus rolled his optics and went back to bolting.

He’d have to ask Drift when it was all over how he made emergency warning yellow look cute.

#transformers #my art #valveplug #my fic #driftrod #survey says #drift #rodimus #mtmte #/nsfw #maccadam

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destefaniart · 11 months

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Im slowly revisiting my old fandoms, reareading fanfics, revisiting fanart, and trying to have fun in general. In between all of this revisiting i reread the amazing, heartbreaking, moving He lied, by Dr_I_Know_All on ao3. That fic just makes my imagination go wild, its so good. So, i made these from chapter 27 to 30. That arc had me almost screaming and crying and revisiting it now was wonderful, equally gut-punching 10/10.

Izuku could only stare up at his dad in horror, wondering wildly whether his dad was putting on an act or if this was really how he saw him. His dad saw him as some superpower? A monolith of quirk superiority? Was that what he was hoping Izuku would become in the future or something he saw in him right here in the present?

— chapter 28

Izuku held his father’s hands tighter than he maybe needed to, but he didn’t know when he will see him next.

“Umm, dad, before we start,” Izuku hesitated, “just, you can keep more, okay? I don’t need any more, and you don’t have to do this. You need some to keep you busy in prison, and then a couple to make sure you don’t get hurt by the heroes, in case they’re not nice when I’m out of it, and make sure you have your telepathy quirk, and—”

“Izuku.”

His father’s hand disconnected from his, and instead he was being cradled by his face. His father pressed his lips to his forehead, kissing away his worries.

“My son,” All for One smiled down at him, “you are so good. I promise, I will not compromise myself with this, alright? I will not die, nor will I languish. But we have to start; your hero friends are looking a little trigger-happy.”

They both looked at the waiting line, all of whom where clutching their weapons and eyeing them with great anxiety. Father and son shared a small, sad smile.

“Can we do it like this?” Izuku asked, cupping his father’s cheeks the same way his father was him. “I . . . I want to focus on your face.”

— Chapter 28

as much as I despise All for one, izuku’s perspective of this separation made me ache and it stayed with me.

So i drew the scenes that stood out to me the most and here we are

#i would love to make drawings on the complex battle description i have in my head but i dont think i have the ability just yet #i might try still jajsjsjs #ooooh i need to draw the second arc. it has been amazing #midoriya izuku #all for one #dad for one #mylove for this fic is so great guys #how can i describe it #mha #bnha #deste does art

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dearbisexual · 1 year

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you guys should read the entire "WHAT RESEMBLES THE GRAVE BUT ISN'T" poem by Anne Boyer so im copy pasting it here, it's really good. i saw an excerpt of it floating around on here and never read the full poem until recently

it's not incredibly long, but it's formatted as a block of text so im putting it under a readmore

"Always falling into a hole, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of the hole which is not the grave, falling into a hole again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of that hole, falling into another one; sometimes falling into a hole within a hole, or many holes within holes, getting out of them one after the other, then falling again, saying “this is not your grave, get out of the hole”; sometimes being pushed, saying “you can not push me into this hole, it is not my grave,” and getting out defiantly, then falling into a hole again without any pushing; sometimes falling into a set of holes whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often falling into this set of structural and impersonal holes; sometimes falling into holes with other people, with other people, saying “this is not our mass grave, get out of this hole,” all together getting out of the hole together, hands and legs and arms and human ladders of each other to get out of the hole that is not the mass grave but that will only be gotten out of together; sometimes the willful-falling into a hole which is not the grave because it is easier than not falling into a hole really, but then once in it, realizing it is not the grave, getting out of the hole eventually; sometimes falling into a hole and languishing there for days, weeks, months, years, because while not the grave very difficult, still, to climb out of and you know after this hole there’s just another and another; sometimes surveying the landscape of holes and wishing for a high quality final hole; sometimes thinking of who has fallen into holes which are not graves but might be better if they were; sometimes too ardently contemplating the final hole while trying to avoid the provisional ones; sometimes dutifully falling and getting out, with perfect fortitude, saying “look at the skill and spirit with which I rise from that which resembles the grave but isn’t!”"

#zee.txt #zee reads #kind of #ok to rb

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ronearoundblindly · 10 months

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Sneak Peek!!!

snippet from Part 2 of Reflection, a Dignity of His Choice chapter (see previous or Fools Rush In series)

Steve Rogers x wife!reader after Steve fakes his death

(No warnings. Just a chat between Steve and Sam Wilson. Who will end up as Captain America?) WC 341

Steve sees the icy bank of the Hudson outside the vast East-facing windows, and the view triggers something inside him.

“I almost came back,” he starts quietly. “There was one time after the first real frost that I just…ran.” The serum held fast then; Steve hadn’t been pushed to the brink yet. “The nearest town—a village really—was across this frozen lake, and I made it right to the edge. Watched their lights for a while. Wondered if I’d make it back here before whoever—I mean, before the…”

He’s never, ever going to call them ‘Keepers.’ Steve would rather die for real.

“…before the group found me. I wondered if the villagers saw me, would she be grabbed before I got back, too? I sat out there all night,” Steve sighs, “and then I just…turned around.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Sam. It’s not the same,” he confesses flatly.

Sam nods, taking in that information, processing. Steve’s had a week (plus a few months) to process and is still nowhere near a conclusion, so he expects it to take his friend a lot longer.

“Your lady was like that, too.” Sam turns while moving forward and indicates the whole gym. “She circled. She kept circling, tryna figure out which door to go out, which thing to do next, tryna figure out if she wanted to get off the track in the first place. And we forced her off by accident. Thought it was for the best.

“You can walk in circles anywhere. Finding familiarity is natural. That’s instinctive. Also, totally normal to be scared as hell of the unfamiliar.”

Pride swells in Steve. This is why Wilson was so good at the VA.

“It’s not like you’re waking up one day wanting a career change, Steve. Most people learn and train for a job. You were created for this job; that’s a tough gig. No wonder it’s a bitch to get out of it--get out of that mindset.”

Language, Steve’s brain shouts automatically.

A/N: Yes, I know it's been a shit summer for updates from me, and yes, I know this poor story has languished long enough. However, I dug us into such angst that I feel very compelled to raise us way, way out of that angst by the end. There is just this big hurtle before the super fluff, gang. I promise!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

I'm-not-dead-tags: @im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @claireelizabeth85 @patzammit @supraveng @1950schick

#sneak peek #fools rush in #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #sam wilson imagine #update coming soon

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sineala · 2 years

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Captain America/Iron Man: Invasion Force

Hi, internet! I'd like to tell you the story of how I discovered a glorious piece of new 616 Steve/Tony canon that has somehow remained unknown to us for twenty-four years! A lost treasure! And it's great.

So for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, a couple days ago I was looking for digital versions of the recent Captain America/Iron Man miniseries. (Yes, I legally own it in issues, trade, and digitally. I own it many times.) And those came up, all right. But what also came up was something I'd literally never heard of, called Captain America/Iron Man: Invasion Force. And I thought this was weird because, as a Steve/Tony fan, I figured I'd heard of all the Steve/Tony miniseries there were, right? But this was new. This was a four-issue team-up miniseries I had never even heard of and here it was on the internet. I'm not going to link it, but if you like to, um, read comics online, you know what I mean, right?

The upload dates on this thing were this April, but the miniseries was dated 1998. At this point I was wondering how in the world there was a Volume 3 Steve/Tony team-up I'd never heard of. And then I clicked on it and it was even weirder, because it was a bunch of tiny blurry lo-res screenshots of a comic being displayed panel by panel in a program I didn't recognize. But it definitely looked like 1998-era Steve & Tony art; it was clearly a legit comic.

We have so very, very few actual Steve/Tony team-up comics and so finding a brand new one that none of us had ever heard of before was a treat. And it's actually a fun read! This is delightful!

So I did some digging (and also Magic did some digging) and it turns out that this is from a long-defunct free digital comics line that Marvel ran from 1996 to 2000, consisting of what they called Marvel CyberComics, which is the most 1996 name I have ever heard. I hear modem dial-up noises in my head when I read that. CyberComics were new original comics for a wide variety of superheroes that were basically comics that had been lightly animated as Shockwave files, with some sound effects.

Eventually Marvel took those down from their website and I gather that they don't have the source files anymore, but, according to a 2011 CBR article, the guy who wrote a lot of them, D. G. Chichester, did in fact still have the source files, and in 2011 he put the Cap/IM one up on YouTube (1, 2, 3, 4). And from then on they languished in obscurity -- as of yesterday I think Part 4 had something like 24 views -- and then a couple months ago someone screenshot all of them, and here we are.

(They are hard to read, especially on the YouTube version -- you can zoom in a whole lot on the RCO screenshots -- but the YouTube version preserves the animation, so it's more fun in that respect. The first video doesn’t have sound, but the rest do.)

Captain America/Iron Man: Invasion Force is pretty fun. 1998 is one of my very favorite time periods for Steve & Tony and I am so excited that there is an entire brand-new team-up miniseries from that era of them being friends and punching aliens together. They have some nice banter and it's a fun team-up and they have each other's backs the whole way through and the ending is nice and happy and it's a fun read and I am just so happy that there is new Steve & Tony content from my favorite era. It is a shiny new present for all of us.

Also, if you are a Steve/Tony fan, you will probably enjoy the beginning of the first issue a whole lot.

We open with Tony and the beautiful woman he has taken on his yacht, because of course he has a yacht. They are having a great time together and are clearly interested in having an even better time in the near future, at which point Steve shows up at Tony's yacht to interrupt his hot date and tell him that they have to go meet aliens. You know, the plot. So Tony tells his date to head belowdecks and get started without him, although at this point it is pretty obvious he won't be continuing the activity he had planned.

And then Steve apologizes for ruining his date, and the conversation goes like this:

STEVE: Sorry for the visit, Stark. TONY: No, you're not. You live for this "duty calls" routine, Captain America. I hope you're not waiting for me to salute. STEVE: I expect you're saving that for the young lady. TONY: I'll make you a copy of the video. What's this about, soldier?

So I'm reading along, going, okay, okay, Steve's apologizing, that's sweet. Tony's having some snarky banter. And then Steve is MAKING A DIRTY JOKE ABOUT TONY'S BONER???? And in response, Tony is OFFERING TO MAKE HIM A SEX TAPE???????

Like, uh. None of that went where I expected it to go. At all.

And, hey, now we can all enjoy the knowledge that Steve is the kind of guy who likes to make dirty jokes about Tony's dick, and now 616 can join Ults in "list of comics universes where Tony canonically offers a sex tape of himself to Steve." Just bros being bros, uh, watching each other's sex tapes. These guys, internet. I can't even.

I just. Yeah. I'm going to need to contemplate this.

And, honestly, the rest of it is pretty good, too! They team up! They defeat the bad guys! They each have a fun interior monologue about their motivations, and the end is very sweet, as Steve thanks Tony for his help and Tony, uh, offers to buy him a desert island.

Anyway, Invasion Force here is a fun Steve & Tony team-up with some excellent banter, friendship, and fighting aliens together. It is a lost comic from one of my personal favorite Avengers eras, and also it contains some fun commentary on Tony's personal life. I am so glad that we have now refound it and all of Steve/Tony fandom can enjoy it.

#posts i actually wrote

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myrfing · 1 year

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6.4 msq spoiler thread

YES! YES....ZERO GOURD FEAST BEASTS

i need this buff PERMANENTLY

ESTINIEN

MAN WHAT

HURLING

DIDNT NEED TO SEE THAT

ZERO LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yshtola is so good at indirectly cheering people up in that shrewd old lady way. not that she's old just well matoya

I like how they put pen and paper in estinien's room like he's literate

dragons are always wanting to pop out their eyeballs

erenville are you...? the golled more...? can i go with you..

can we kiss

god he appeared on screen and SORRY vrtra but i need him to continue and tell me about his life and I need to go with him

now they're blueballing us about a mysterious letter

i like how zero's just been there like well I guess you know everybody on earth then

margrat. i need more of her bizarre behaviors

i forgort

thancred calling it "social struggles" YOU GUYS ARE MAKING THIS AWKWARD FOR ZEROOOO

these drake ass polar bears

the aetherfont is sooo gorgeous also I forgot my codex broke and nearly let thancred die. long time since ive healed a trust party as well but we go slow smell the ice bears

oh my god :U

thancred: just stick stay close to this one

gourd: slowly turning head with his o_o frontal bird face

they just let thancred tag along just beacause. not to be mean but we could also just meet new people

U Guys Are Leaving Gourd OUt of the Conversation Hinting At Something Happening To Come What The Hell So He Doesn't Get Alone Time And You Guys Are Getting Jobs Without Him Anyway

zero voice Idgaf about that

can the garleans get over their magic fear already you live in a world where there are glowing horses

damn that's crazy

msq is always very strangely gentle and thorough relative to others when it comes to dealing with garlean trauma or maybe thats just my hater lens. anyway the whole they are bigoted and small minded because they'd been hurt stuff is getting old and it's kind of crazy how this hurt people hurt people stuff is the limit here

trust me i dont really want 2

a weird bit about the whole garlemald thing is the bizarre angelic benevolence of the ilsabard contingent. not ONE person has been like you know you guys spent the past half century fucking up the entire world and you still demand respect for your gay ass tower because the imperial family sat their asses in it. anyway i have problems with the whole we're actually a totally 100% saintlike patience goodhearted pure intentioned foreign aid group thing We Have To Save The People Of Garlemald on the side of the alliance since the start but whatever

warmachina.

i dont want the thank you from this man LMFAO

zerooo 8[ also so much of what zero recounts explains. Cylva.

aw that's true jullus

LMFAOOOOO THEYRE MAKING THE WOL THINK OF ZENOS BECAUSE OF THIS CONVO? gourd did NOT trust that man unless you mean trust him to be awful. and what did zenos trust in the wol that he'd fight him eventually? I GUESS? MAYBE THEY MEANT HE WANTED TO TRUST US BUT I ALSO DO NOT CARE?

we're not friends just because someone calls you their friend 29083902 times 💀 i think that dude barely had a concept of gourd as a human being with his own life

an act of trade also can be an act of charity. THIS IS WHAT I MEAN THEIR POLITICAL WRITING IS SOMETIMES SO.....garlemald is still absolutely at the alliance's mercy + they still obviously believe in right by might re: that one line from the old dudes so there's no reason for them to not be cognizant of the fact we can just take by force and doesn't handle the hanging But Why Aren't They? question at all. this was a pity deal and everyone's like friendship and hope <3. im not saying goodwill and sincerity cannot exist between groups but this requires a sense of solidarity that we do NOT have with garlemald considering we still have to step entirely around the subject of their imperial affairs

you see as a nation they're not equals. they're the languishing half dead scattering remnant of an empire that built its wealth and prosperity for a time on war, theft, and enslavement of the rest of the world and radz and the alliance absolutely could just turn the tables and invade and probably just wipe out everyone here without breaking a sweat. of course that's abhorrent but it's crazy that THIS particular pain even the mere thought of it is made to not exist while the garleans get to be complicated about it. they want to keep their national name and pride with none of the consequences and we don't even demand that as if a nation is sacred and untouchable even after everything. I don't get it bro

i like the way varshahn says wyrm

THE LITTLE SQUICH SOUND WHEN I TAKE HER EYE?

glitter guy....

#ffxiv #6.4 spoilers

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nontoxic-writes · 2 months

Note

I desperately need to hear about 9! (and maybe 3 if you're feeling generous?)

YES i love talking about hangster

so #9 is a fic set a few years in the future where bradley and jake have been hooking up for the better part of a year when bradley is sent on a mission and asks jake to house sit for him. then bradley goes MIA and jake goes a little insane and spends a few weeks fixing up bradleys house (and like most everyone in that fandom, he’s living in his childhood home) and slowly, all the daggers (plus maverick, obviously) show up to remind him he has friends who care about him.

the way that this is currently 32k and just languishing in my wip folder omg 😅

and a snippet from that one because why not:

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know.” Phoenix calls up at him from the ground.

Jake glances down from the top of the ladder, one hand practically elbow-deep in the muck filling Rooster’s gutters. “Oh, I know.”

“My best friend is missing and I just wanted to talk to someone who knows how it feels.”

“Your husband already pulling away, Phoenix?” He jokes. “Never thought that day would come,” he tacks on, recognizing that maybe the joke was too harsh.

She shakes her head. “Bob loves him, but it’s not the same.”

“Bob probably gets it better than I do, Nat,” Jake says, grinning wickedly at her. “I’m just the boytoy.”

“I think you love him,” she says bluntly. “You don’t have to admit it to me. You don’t have to admit it to anyone. But the very least you could do for him is make sure his best friend doesn’t fall apart without him.”

That hits him right in the fucking chest.

She’s right.

All the shit Jake is doing to the house, and what he should be doing is taking care of Bradley’s people. Fuck. He should call Mav.

(yes i am always spreading the bobnix agenda even if i still haven’t published a single fic in that fandom)

as for #3… yeah it’s a bonus chapter to even if it’s just pretend haha. when i was writing it, i was a day late posting the epilogue because i felt like i had to rewrite it, so im reworking the original epilogue and ill eventually post it, i swear!

there’s… not a ton of it to choose from, i reworked a lot of it into what was published and most of what’s left is just an outline, but here’s a little!!

Things are slightly different now, at least. Henry wears a pink tie with his charcoal suit, the rainbow pin stuck proudly to his lapel, and Alex leaves his collar open so Henry can be distracted by that divot at the base of his throat. And they're allowed to say the word "love" this time, and Henry gets to touch him when he needs reassurance, so while it's at least better than their last interview, it's still far from ideal.

thanks for asking about these two!! i love them both so much.

#wip meme

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hetacakes · 2 years

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in the end, i just wanted you to be safe.

xiaolumi (xiao/alatus x lumine/ying)

the latest archon quest possessed me and i wrote this drabble at 6am

im not even kidding i woke up to write this and then went back to sleep

the latest event inspired me to finish my xiaolumi wip but it's so old that it now doesn't make sense 😭😭😭 but i can't change it or i'll have to write a whole new story basically

anyway enjoy im obsessed with xiaolumi :)

warning for a/b/o dynamics and spoilers for 2.7 archon quest

word count: 722

(look at how lumine gets angry when xiao says he can fight to the bitter end in the gif LMAO wifey angy)

"Whoa, whoa, you wanna write a will now!?"

It was obvious Paimon meant for her tone to be accusatory, meant for her question to jab at him, yet all Xiao could focus on was the sight of his sweet Lumine, hands on her hips and utterly cross with him.

Never in his life did he regret saying something so soon after he said it.

In hindsight, using the last of his energy to send the rest of the party back to the surface was not the best move. To be fair, he didn't expect to survive, to ever see his lovely mate ever again, and he was more than willing to sacrifice himself if it meant she would live, yet here he was, sitting in the grass on the hill next to Pervases' temple, Lumine facing her back to him. Yes, in hindsight, sacrificing himself was the quickest way to make his omega incredibly infuriated with him.

As they say, hindsight is 20/20.

"Don't be angry," he said softly, wrapping an arm around Lumine's waist and pulling her into his side.

"..." Lumine sniffled, still ignoring him. If there was one thing he hated to see the most in the world, it was the sight of hurt and sadness flashing across his mate's face, telling him in no unclear words that he was doing a horrible job of keeping her safe and happy.

"I'm sorry," he relented, his hand snaking up from her waist to the exposed section of her back through her dress, rubbing soothing circles into her smooth skin. "I just wanted to make sure you got out alive."

"It'd hardly be living, it'd be torture if I had to leave my alpha behind!" Lumine huffed. At least she was answering him now, instead of giving him the silent treatment. Progress, Xiao thought to himself, progress.

"I'm really mad at you!" His omega whined petulantly, yet he couldn't find it in himself to scold her for it. She had a point, a very valid point. "I don't want to talk to you."

That would have stung more if he didn't see right through her; the notes in her scent told him she was only mildly upset, the sharp citrus tang of anger in her scent overshadowed by the sweet floral aroma of relief and desire to cuddle up to her alpha and languish in his protective embrace. And who was he to refuse her?

"I'm sorry," he crooned, pandering for her forgiveness as he tucked her head under his chin, making sure to sweeten his scent with calming tones meant to soothe his omega, adding hints of honeyed milk to his almond tofu scent. And sure enough, the sourness in her scent disappeared as she snuggled closer to him, tucking her arms against his chest.

"That's it, good girl," he cooed, rubbing his cheek on the top of her head to scent her, drowning her in the aroma of qingxin misted in morning dew and sugar-coated almonds. The beginnings of a rumbling purr began to stir in his chest, intensifying when he heard her own responding purr just a few seconds later.

"I'm still mad at you," Lumine whined quietly as he kissed her tears away.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'll make it up to you later."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now, sleep," he commanded gently, gathering her up in his arms and teleporting to his domain in wisps of black and green. He laid her down in their bed, watching as she slowly arranged the pillows and blankets to her liking, building a small nest to sleep in. Once she deemed it good enough for now, she climbed in, dutifully pulling her alpha in with her. Lumine gently pushed him to the bed before curling up to his side, making sure there was virtually no space to separate them anymore. He crooned in approval, praising her for being good, and smiled when she melted under the praise, her responding purr slowly petering off as the effects of such a high-strung day sapped her energy and eased her to dreamland.

Xiao took note of her scent gradually becoming sweeter and more addictive, the toll of the recent events pulling her into an early heat.

Yes, he thinks to himself, he'll definitely make everything up to her once they wake up.

#genshin impact #原神 #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact lumine #xiaolumi #xlmi #a/b/o dynamics #alpha xiao #omega lumine #slight spoilers for 2.7 #im obsessed with xiaolumi and abo and theres basically none out there so i have to cook for myself smh #xiaolumi nation how are we feeling we've been given a whole feast

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operat0r · 4 months

Text

causality

"So. What changed your mind?"

A greater thing rests between them than their meal and than their silence. The Tenno raises a cup to his lips and drinks and ponders the impossibly familiar taste. The scrubbers do their work but they rob even water of its essence, leaves it somehow stale and dry on his tongue. It is nothing like the golden chalices of Orokin moons and stations. It slides over tongue and throat and reminds the Tenno of things he's kept carefully, carefully locked away.

Not that it matters now. The dormizone is familiar, even with its grave-dust air. He knows this place as well as he knows the man who sits opposite him now, this man who looks at him with a stern, bullish familiarity he has not yet earned.

Between them languishes a platter of food cubes, which neither party picks at with much enthusiasm. Between them, a rift wound through time and distance and sheer [im]possibility. Perhaps it is another part of the eternal dream, some lonely delusion that's somehow managed to break the seal the Tenno keeps on past and memory. He is child but not, eternal but not, he who is fourteen or sixteen or eight-or-nine hundred. Why in all of creation would he chose, then, to imagine the tired face before him?

They've the same eyes, regardless: like suns, corona-bright, tired in their way. He knows without knowing and in this, perhaps, the distance between them is made lesser.

He says, "I don't know what you mean," and the other -- this Drifter, unbound from paradox by paradox itself -- frowns with disapproval and impatience both.

"Yeah, I think you do. Come on. What's the point in lying to me?"

They bristle as they chew, reflections of one another. There's no metal in or on the Drifter's face but his nose is bent a little too much to the left and there is a single, deep gouge taken from just below the left cheekbone.

The Tenno says tartly, "I do not answer to you."

"But you do answer to her," the Drifter says, and here the Tenno lifts his eyes. It's an expression he knows well enough, one the Drifter himself has flashed to many a shade and ghost, Dax and King in the moments before and after the blade. Their eyes burn in mutual distrust, smoldering with an anger that has plagued them both, two sides of a singular, unpleasant soul.

"Not anymore."

"Bullshit."

The Tenno's lip curls. His hands are pale, the flesh beneath nails the black-violet of deep bruises. Ballas called them devils and their violence is perhaps the single greatest legend that remains of the old empire. With but a flick of his malnourished little wrist, the Tenno could turn the Drifter to dust, or worse. He knows it as well as he knows that on the other side of the room there is a photograph he cannot allow himself to look at -- and knows that on the other side of the mirror, the Tenno probably has done just that to someone else bearing his resemblance while the Zariman drifted through the Void.

"Not anymore," the Tenno says again with practiced evenness, as if he were the adult here at their shared table and not this stranger wearing his face. "She is gone."

"She's not gone, kid--"

Chopsticks clack, nearly snapping by the force with which they are slammed upon the table. This small violence startles the Drifter and so the Tenno leans forward in challenge. "Do not," the Tenno hisses, "Call me that." His eyes shine dangerously. "She is gone, and for the life of me, I do not know why you cling to her so."

"It's because we have that in common."

The lines upon the Drifter's face are tense. Neither of them are strangers to their violence, the Tenno realizes, but only one of them has ever had the advantage of the Void and the curse it bestows upon those it touches. Across from him sits a man who has had to cut his teeth on the pedestrian ways in which people unlike him do: through sweat and blood and battered knuckles, with blades that have cut him as often as his foes. No doubt beneath his jumpsuit, the Drifter wears plain the full weight of his own wars.

"Like it or not," the Drifter continues, taking a breath, "She's saved us both. You know that as well as I do. So there's got to be an answer. What changed, between you out there and me in here? What's happened that makes you hate her like your life depends on it?"

Between them lurks a standstill. Slow and careful, the Tenno takes another drink of water, takes up his chopsticks again, and marvels briefly at the slight bite of well-worn wood against his fingers. He keeps his eyes low but for the brief flick from beneath his brows, and the Drifter knows he being appraised.

"You might be right," says the Tenno, adding a blue cube of food to his plate and then a green one. "I do not know who has it worse."

---

It was foolish to even try, the Tenno decides. The Lotus -- no, Natah -- bears him love only because it is what her own ghost commands of her. There is nothing, he decides, that shines behind her eyes while she dangles from his grasp and bids him let her go.

It is his lapse of judgement that undoes him, he's certain. It is fleeting sentimentality, a moment where he forgets himself and all he's become with or without her meddling. He does not recall when Margulis was mangled and robbed of her sight, nor does he recall when or how exactly it was that she was taken from them entirely, but he is certain, so certain, that he could not have possibly wept.

And when the blade cuts through him, when Eternity at last lays claim upon that which should have died and vanished upon the Zariman all those years ago, he is certain he does not hear her scream.

---

In the end, the Drifter realizes the Tenno cannot be moved. His disappointment is palpable. The Zariman is home now only to the dead, fated to remain as a grave of unspeakable size, the first of many the children of the Ten-Zero would ultimately create with their void-witched hands.

The Tenno is unbothered by ghosts. But when the Drifter leaves him, pausing just the once in the doorway before electing not to look at him after all, he leaves something behind that unnerves his younger-but-not self.

Life support still wheezes to life in regular intervals, rattling through her tremendous broken bones. Something has come loose in an air vent a room or two down the hall. He's heard the sound from hundreds of those he's cut down himself: wind desperate to find some place to go, pressed through lungs on the razor edge of collapse.

It is not this that unsettles. He sits alone, the Tenno, the seat opposite him emptied and pushed away from the table. Its much more quiet than the Orbiter even without Ordis chattering at him. But neither is it this solitude that disquiets.

There is a saying he has heard more than a few times in his travels, often muttered fearfully by those with superstition in their hearts. They say, "I feel like someone's just walked over my grave," and sometimes they move their hands or bow their heads or give the Tenno a knowing look that he simply cannot return. Up until recently, he has never died -- not in a way that mattered, in any case. Not in a way that stuck.

In the Drifter's wake, something changes. Maybe he sees the lights dim just a shade closer to grey or feels the air chill by a degree or two. Maybe he is dead this time. Maybe Ballas was right and this place is the hell to which he belongs. The Tenno feels the cup between his hands, tastes the unpleasantly tasteless water that slides down his throat. And as it goes, it chills him and at last he understands: there is someone walking over his grave and, for the first time since he's surfaced from the dream, he is well and truly alone.

#warframe oc #warframe fic #the new war #writing #spoilers for the new war btw #i enjoyed the new war very very much but the choices i made weren't exactly in character i think #rather than the tenno tagging out with drifter because it's cool (AND IT WAS!!)#it's the drifter tagging out the tenno because he HAS to.#local boy has a tremendous chip on his shoulder about his surrogate mother whatever and is willing to make it everyone's problem #so it's up to his older slightly less shitty self to try to make things right oh god there's so much that has gone wrong oh god oh no #anyway i am deeply deeply deeply fascinated by the drifter and tenno #and i might get real self indulgent with it when my brain works

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