Im Useless - Tumblr Posts
I deleted the anon message because I’ve exhausted all my brain power, but someone sent me some Megop with ticklish Optimus-and all I can say is: Yes, absolutely, stranger. He is a sensitive boy boy, and I will exploit this for you.
✨Warnings in the tags✨ This is actually appropriately short for once 🥺
——— —————
One more day stuck in this ratty little tent, about two more stuck in a marginally bigger transport shuttle, and Optimus would be off this heatstroke of a planet and back on the Steelhaven.
“It was entirely unnecessary for you to come.” Megatron glowered, annoyed with Reflector comming him consecutive updates about their ETA more than anything.
Optimus didn’t bother looking up, eyes tracing the fresh outline of the falls below the burrow Reflector had found themselves in on his datapad.
“When exactly were you going to send us the finished product for this map?”
“Do you really need one?” Megatron asked, purely to be malicious.
“My men do all your exploring for you now. What use is it to you?”
Optimus didn’t entertain that painfully stupid jab with a response. He saddled his pad on his side for quick access and turned to shunt himself up in their pitiful tent for the time being.
To his dismay, Megatron followed. Unwilling to give him any escape from their week long spat that’d gotten considerably more aggressive a few cycles ago.
Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was because Optimus made himself a fine target, despite his efforts to seem unfazed.
Maybe Megatron actually enjoyed this kind of play, though Optimus could hardly see the appeal. He much preferred their awkward, but genuine talks at fueling.
Wedged in a small tent barely capable of housing its two current occupants, Megatron took this opportunity to continue spurring him on while he was stuck there.
“Regardless of how mandatory your role here has been, would you care to remind me when you became a babysitter and forwent your status as a Prime entirely?”
“Well, you and I both know I was sent, because you give anybot else serious attitude and run them off. So, I don’t see why my presence here would be a surprise all at once.”
Megatron actually did look miffed. A rare thing.
“I don’t need any Autobot interference on these explorations in the first place-“
“But we need the finished map.”
“Certainly.” Megatron moved away from the entrance to tower over him.
“And at the virtuous sacrifice of reducing yourself to an errand boy.”
Typical.
Rude, abhorrent, typical Megatron.
Through feeding him ammunition, Optimus moved to sit on his narrow cot. He turned his back to the other and imagined himself back in his nice, cool room on the Steelhaven with all his datapads. Surrounded by the standard size and its dull grey glory -and not an ounce of comfortable furniture anywhere. Someplace he’d give his right servo to be right now.
Megatron would normally drop an argument when it resulted in a Prime clearly put out with him and reluctant to continue -it meant the fun banter that made their ‘conversations’ delightful would be lacking. No sport in that.
But with a single solar cycle left on this planet promising their freedom soon, Megatron felt emboldened to make the most out of their remaining moments together. That was, until the next expedition in a few more months.
He wouldn’t say he *liked* these particular circumstances comprising their time spent together, but they were the few instances their fates crossed paths.
Oh, how he longed for their time on Earth. Able to cause chaos in the nearest city and find Prime’s battle axe aimed at his faceplates in nanokliks.
He stalked over to the little Autobrat, flicking his finials back sensing his approach. He refused to turn, refused to acknowledge the other as little more than an annoying gnat than a once feared criminal warlord that’d turned the little bot inside out a few times over.
Youths... Go figure.
Megatron considered how best to provoke him into their verbal sparring once more when he spied the perfect opportunity on Optimus’ hip plate. The schematics he’d been guarding like a glitch-hawk.
“You need these for your precious Magnus so badly?” Megatron rumbled, already pleased to think about the uproar he was about to cause in the little Prime, and reached for the pad on his hip.
“Why don’t you just-“
“H-HEY~”
Megatron jerked his hand back and stared in genuine concern at the other’s outburst.
Goodness, had his claws grazed him? Had he touched him in an unwelcome way? He hadn’t meant to do *that* ever. Clearly he should have kept his servos to himself.
Then Optimus jumped to his stabilizers, clapped a palm over his hip and spun with wide optics. Looking at Megatron like he was the creature emerging from the murky depths they’d ran across about three oil expeditions ago. All terror and anticipation -expecting the other to lash out.
Which after that display, Megatron would never even think to harm the little- Oh.
*Oh*.
Now Megatron understood....
Just a look at the horrified, flushing face below him and he *knew* all about Optimus’ most unlikely secret.
He turned wicked optics upon the place at his hip he’d accidentally brushed trying to reach the schematics. It was almost too good to be true, and, ever thorough, Megatron would only let himself believe it with further proof.
“I’m sorry little one.” Megatron sounded absolutely not sorry at all.
He took a step forward -one being enough to close any distance between them in the tiny tent.
Optimus’ finials dipped low, sharp denta sinking into a plush lower lip.
“Did I startle you?” Megatron murmured.
“No!” Optimus hissed, now explicitly offended for this attempt at further humiliation. He was a Prime and a Primus-damned warrior!
He’d survived his spark extinguishing once, he’d defeated Megatron’s attempts at worldwide domination -two worlds at once even. He was not startled!
His hand gripped his sensitive hip a little tighter all the same.
“Aw...” Megatron crooned, followed by a sinful, knowing smirk.
“Unlikely.”
“Megatron!”
Optimus pried his hand away -a fatal mistake- to block the big hands coming out to grab him around the middle and keep some mockery of distance between them in this stuffy tent. All he effectively did was give Megatron an opening.
Claws extending beyond the natural limits of their skewering mercy grazed carefully over his sensitive hip joints in a scratching motion.
The noise Optimus made was undignified at best and mortifying at worst. And in Megatron’s opinion, the stuff of symphonies.
The smaller mech twisted, one knee jerking up and nailing Megatron in the thigh. The warlord couldn’t stop himself from grinning through the pain. Surely looking maniacal.
He scratched his claws up from quivering hips to a delicious spot along each side, receiving a squeal and venomous curse in reward.
Optimus glared through tears, promising painful death when this was all over, before the unrestrained screams overtook him, and he was both leaning in and away from his tormentor.
Megatron accepted his morbid fate in full, that was fair after all. No one should ever disrespect this precious, fearsome bot.
That said, he turned his absolute attention over to making more of those squeak-laugh-sobs bubble out of the little blue mech. The one sinking increasingly sharper claws of his own into Megatron’s servos as desperation took hold.
The Tarnish terror was about to smooth a stroke of his thumb along those slender, shivering hips once more when the light of the nearest star burst through the tent’s entry, signaling Reflectors’ return and the tent opening wide. The three, trying to shuffle in all at once, stopped and considered the sight before them.
Optimus’ finials shot up, optics wide, as he noticed the light filtering in, and the possibility of salvation shining with it. He looked between the three of them and threw pride as far out the evacuation tunnel as possible.
“Don’t leave me here! AH~ Don’t leave m- Please! I-“
And then the light faded away as the three made their speedy exit.
“Wait! WAI-AH!”
Megatron purred in enormous satisfaction to not have to have their little playtime cut short. Sweeping deft fingers around the seams of strong, elite framework that’d weathered much in its short lifecycle.
Optimus’ helm jerked back, a thigh hiking up Megatron’s hip in an effort to use the leverage to push away with it. A poor effort. It only drew him farther up into remarkably large hands -capable of bearing the brunt of his weight like he was little heavier than a case of polish.
———- ———-
The shuttle to take them back was stifled by Reflectors’ awkward looks and Lugnut, eager to see their lord as soon as possible after his trip away, prodding curiously about why Optimus looked like a mech thrown through the wringer for a bot given his necessities and a safe tent away from the heat. And why Megatron was obviously quite gleeful of this.
He ignored all of them, focusing instead on nursing the lingering tingle in his seams away and looking as furious as a bot who’d agreed to join the next expedition in another week after his violent assault so quickly could.
It was for the good of Cybertron, and that alone.
Megatron, delighting in the wayward idea that this might promise him the opportunity of turning his cheekplates pink again so soon, could stuff it.
Optimus had not found that tremendous ordeal amusing one bit. Not one.
——-
Me embarrassing myself for anonymous souls who deserve the world.
hi! can I request a Rhysand from ACOTAR x reader where she is actually his mate but he had made his choice with Feyre and she is just soo heartbroken by it but instead later on she and Azriel fell in love and it all works out in the end? thank you!
A/n: Sure you can love, I am so so sorry for how long its taken ne to get to these. My inbox is so full and I'm just useless. Hope y'all enjoy- constructive criticism is welcome, but as always please be polite 😊🥰
The Next World
Rhysand looked over the small female. She was High Fae, but her stature was petite and fragile.
She was beautiful, but in his eyes, she was no Feyre. He had already comitted to Feyre, already vowed himself to her.
He loved Feyre, but he did not love the female in front of him.
Why did it have to be this way? She was so nice, so deserving of love and so deserving of a mate. And now he had to break her heart
He glanced at her eyes for a moment, then looked away. This isn't fair. His mate wasn't coming. That's why he chose Feyre in the first place and now there can be no one else.
Her eyes were welled up with tears and despite her begging, she knew what was coming.
Rhysand forced himself to look her in the eyes as he spoke, no matter how much harder it made things.
"I'm sorry. I've made my choice. You should probably go." He tried to say it gently, but the words sounded harsh even to his own ears.
Rhys winced, it was as if he could see he heart in her eyes, it was as if he was watching it physically break.
Without another word, she turned and walked towards the front door of the estate, no tears left her eyes until she felt the fresh breeze of the city on her face.
Why did her mate find a love away from her? How was that fair at all? How was she going to face the Inner Circle tomorrow, knowing about the bond.
Knowing that it will never be accepted. Feeling as though she will never be accepted.
She felt numb. But she also hurt.
How can you feel nothing, but also be hurting at the same time? How was that fair?
She seemed to be asking herself that question a lot lately, and as she pushed open the door to a bar hoping to drink away her sorrows, she realized: nothing is fair.
Not in this world and not in the next.
Sighing, she makes her way to a secluded little corner at the bar, trying to avoid being seen by Cassian, Azriel and Mor who were all laughung and drinking together.
It felt like a taunt, they were happy now and they could go home and sleep well and the next day when the time came to visit Feyre and Rhys, there would be no hesitation. They would be greeted with smiles and hugs.
They would be greeted with love. And she would not.
When the bartender brought her her drink she smiled and slurped half of it down in one go. Her face felt cold from residual tears and her eyes felt stiff and dry.
She looked back up to the group she was trying to avoid only to realise that Azriel was no longer there.
Probably gone home, maybe with another female, or even a male. To be happy, or at least content with another for tonight.
The concept felt so far away, she felt as if she'd never be happy again. Especially with someone else.
A warm hand covered her shoulder and she turned around quickly, whipping out a fisted hand, only for her wrist to be caught.
Shadows curled around her wrist and reached up her arm. With a gasp, she inspected the intruder's face and realised that Azriel was standing behind her.
"Why the long face?" He asked and as much as she wanted to retort back, as soon as she opened her mouth, her throat closed up and tears burned behind her eyes again.
She looked away from the male and stared into the half-empty cup in her hands.
"What's up buttercup?" He asked again, sliding into the stool next to her and craning his neck to see her face.
She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Did you just say 'What's up buttercup?'?" She asked and he gave a small smile as he nodded.
"What's wrong with that?" She shook my head at his words.
"Nothing. It's just stranger hearing the word buttercup slip from the spymaster's lips in such a playful way." She told him, wishing she could smile.
She enjoyed being around Azriel, he made her laugh and he made her feel comfortable. But right now, it felt so impossibly hard to feel happy.
"I'm not the spymaster right now. I'm Azriel, your friend and I'm here to help. Now, you gonna keep a secret from the spymaster?" He nudged her side and she ket out a sigh.
"I thought you weren't the spymaster tonight?"
"Well not actively. But it's not like I can just turn it off." He shrugged cockily. If it was any other day she would've laughed. She tried, but it felt as though she would never laugh again.
"Az... Rhysand is my mate." Shock clanged through him at her words.
"What?"
"He's my mate. And he doesn't want me."
"Oh my god."
🔸️
It had been a week since Rhysand's rejection and no one from the Inner Circle had seen Y/n since.
Except for Azriel.
She didn't show up for lunch the next day and she didn't appear for any meetings or meet-ups.
Mor and Cassian were worried and guilt was eating at Feyre, she felt it was her fault.
Rhysand was destroyed by guilt, he hadn't seen her in person since everything went down, but though the bond was quieting, it was as if he could feel her heartbreak through the bond.
But he could also feel something else, he didn't know what it was, but he thinks it is the reason he can feel the bond breaking.
Azriel had been spending all his spare moments with her, dedicating himself to making her feel better and helping her realise that she doesn't need a mate to be happy.
She doesn't need Rhys.
And she knows. She doesn't need Rhys, she has never needed him. The bomd had made her mind go whacky.
If she had let it continue taking over herself, she may have needed him. She was ready to as well, then Azriel put his hand on her shoulder.
Azriel smiled at her and got her to tell him what was happening.
Azriel called her a buttercup.
She hadn't smiled that night, but when she went to bed she questioned herself.
Why dodn't she smile that night? Azriel makes her smile. Why is she letting Rhysamd get in the way of that.
Of everything.
He doesn't want her and while it hurts, there is nothing she can do about it.
But she can find someone who does want her.
Her friends want her, maybe not in the way she would've been with a mate, but they love her and they want her.
A knock sounded on the door and everyone fell silent. They knew the scent and they knew who was at the door.
Feyre went to answer.
The group couldn't see what was happening, but they could hear the words exchanged.
"Y/n..."
"Is everyone here already?"
"Y/n I-" Feyre was cut off by a thumping noise.
Did she punch her?
The group got off the couch and walked into the entry hall to see Y/n and Feyre standing there wrapped in a hug.
Feyre was whispering 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' and Y/n was just shaking her head.
Rhysand gave a soft smile at the scene in front of him. Through the slightly crumbling bond between them, he could feel Y/n healing.
When Feyre and Y/n pulled apart, everyone wanted their turn. There was almost a line in front of her while they waited for their hug too.
Rhys could feel Y/n's hesitation amd he didn't want to push it so he didn't get in line.
Then it was Azriel's turn.
He engulfed her and her small body pretty much disappeared into his as they hugged.
He squeezed her tightly and they stayed like that for a long moment, longer than the rest, inhaling each other's scents and revelling in the comfort of one another.
Rhys noticed. And he smiled. He knew why she was healing.
🔸️
It had been almost five months since Rhys had rejected the mating bond between him and Y/n.
If you looked really, really hard, it was still there. But it was faint and he could no longer feel her emotions, hear any words she let down the bond. It was pretty much non-existent.
And Y/n no longer cared. Of course she cared about Rhysand. They were still friends, in fact they were quite close after everything that had happened.
But she didn't need him the way she might've. She did need Azriel though.
And Azriel needed her.
They sat together on Azriel's couch, well, they layed together.
Azriel layed on the couch and she lay on top of him, his arms around her waist and keeping her from slipping off.
"Y/n?"
She hummed in response, but her eyes were still glazed over sleepily.
"Do you ever wish Rhys had picked you?" His voice was quiet.
"No." She replied with absolutely no hestitation.
"Why?"
"Because I love you and I am happier with you than I could ever be with Rhys. It's almost as if I left Rhys in the world behind me. You are my new world. And I would never wish for anything else." Her words were sweet, her voice was smooth and her eyes were soft.
Azriel was overcome with the love he felt for her. He lifted his wings up and wrapped them around her body tightly.
She felt warm and safe wrapped up in his arms and wings, surrounded by his scent and his love and also his shadows.
They weren't mates, but it didn't matter. They were in love.
You ever put on music to try an focus but you keep procrastinating anyways because you put on 'drawing music' instead of 'honework music'? Like the genre and vibe of the songs stirs inspiration! But in the wrong direction?