#clandestine

Hello friends,, I'm Frankie, sixteen, he/she I fucking love bandom and iwtv. That's mostly what I post about but I also just yap on here! I interact w everyone so if I randomly follow u, I probably thought you were cool. Bmf ^_^ I'm nice..I swear

I post abt rpf and I'm profic so, mayb block me if that's not for you

I'm into bands like fall out boy, my chemical romance, panic at the disco, brokencyde, paramore, the hush sound, cobra starship, gym class heros, the academy is, dance gavin dance and other similars.

I'm into media like iwtv, donnie darko, brokeback mountain, Hannibal, the Osbournes, teen wolf, gossip girl, old disney shows, cartoons like adventure time & happy tree friends. (I also enjoy the books to most of these)

l'm super active on here, but my tiktok is @/frankieslj and my discord is @/fakeoutboy if u wanna be close friends :p !!

I don't have a dni, anyone can interact, dm me, send asks pls :3 I'm usually playful & sarcastic, so pls don't take anything i say srs!!! I love friends soo bmf heh

< @bvlletzbr4in3d 3 my fiance, I post abt him alot

I use the tag #icarus 🦴 for literally anything. It's me marking my territory. grr

Chapter One, The Archives

Slowly wandering around the Shambali Temple late at night was a true gift. The stone walls of the religious site are quiet in the face of the night, barely a sound by the time you usually look around and take time out of your day to clear your thoughts. 

This was your third day of sightseeing late at night. You were invited to the temple to experience the beauty and peace that the Iris gives those willing to listen.

The room you stayed in was fine, simple, and comfortable. Perfect for many of the monks at the temple. But because they didn’t expect many visitors of flesh and blood, it lacked some of the luxuries you’d be accustomed to, like a sleepable bed. 

Maybe you should’ve communicated that with Mondatta at the start of your second day here, but he’d become busy quickly- the perks of being a religious figure.

The intricate carvings and tapestries draped across the walls were beautiful. Woven and painted by the monks themselves, every piece tells a story. The awakening of Aurora was painted and chiseled into the very soul of the temple. It was overwhelmingly beautiful and overwhelmingly human. 

The raw devotion you saw day to day in this place was awe-inspiring. But you’d noticed many other things that depicted that raw emotion within the Shambali Monastery. 

Two monks of the mission stood out to you. The first is a monk named Zenyatta, who is full of young energy and has a heart of pure gold. Positive and wise beyond his years- he took the most after Master Mondatta to you. 

Peace was something he truly believed could happen and would take any beating if that meant helping another. Sometimes, his views seemed a bit naïve- but otherwise he was well grounded.

The second monk that stood out to you was a R-7000 Ravager who took the name of Ramattra. He was larger than all of the other omnic monks at the temple. He had experienced true suffering after his awakening and had quite the chip on his shoulder from it. He stayed far away from you, but why would you press him on his discomfort? 

You weren’t even able to get close to him like that. From what Zenyatta described of his viewpoint, he was more grounded in the harsh reality around him, even if that made him jaded, cynical, and otherwise withdrawn from you.

You were finally removed from the circular motion of your thoughts, finding yourself in a very large room full of dim lighting and bookshelves. You’ve just entered the Shambali archives. There, you saw a large omnic still wearing his robes, scanning a text. His optics quickly found you at the entrance of the library before turning away, faceplate still dug into the ancient text. 

He did not greet you or otherwise acknowledge your presence. 

Most of the monks in the monastery welcomed you with open arms and would greet you- but not Ramattra.

You stood in the entrance way for a bit, scanning the room and Ramattra with your eyes as the seemingly infinite piles of books littered the area. There was a desk that had a couple of books on it, and a small light above. You assumed that’s where Ramattra had been keeping himself busy for the last couple of hours instead of retiring to his room for the night.

“This is the archives. I would’ve thought you’d know where your room was after a day but clearly I made a miscalculation.” 

His venom shot at you quickly, he assumed you would’ve left shortly after he gave you the perfect example of ‘go away, I’m going to ignore you now’ body language. His voice rasped a bit in sarcasm, the lower tone making static buzz from his voice box.

“My apologies, I prefer looking around the monastery when it’s quiet. It’s much easier to enjoy the art when it’s quiet and I don’t risk interrupting any ceremonies.”

It’s quick and gets to the point. No need to be rude to someone who’s housing you for the time being. Even if it did get under your skin, the other two times he’s spoken to you have been of a similar caliber. It still hurts, though.

He seemed to nod in acknowledgment, optics once again scanning you before setting the text down in his study corner. He then finally decided to talk to you alone for the first time in all of your visit. 

“Why did you decide to come here? To make us uncomfortable? It seems your kind makes it their personal vocation.” 

He’s large and imposing, the LEDs on his forehead glowing in the dim light, even covering your face in a light red hue. 

“I’m completely willing to leave you if that’s what you want from me,” 

You step back a little, enough to reclaim some of your personal space. His intimidation is slightly working on you. But, in all you strive to be as professional as possible.

“That wasn’t my question, but I appreciate the offer. But I’d rather you answer my inquiries instead of dancing around them. Why are you here?”

He was brimming with arrogance.

Of course, you can’t just politely side-swipe his questions. 

Of course, it just so happens to be a nasty confrontation late at night when many of the monks are in deep prayer or sleep mode.

 You always have the best of luck when it comes to situations like this. 

He spoke to you like you had just opened your eyes to the ugliness of the world. Your grip tightens in your pockets as you take a deep breath and answer him:

“I’m here to study and write. Most people don’t get an opportunity to see such a large religious movement happen in their lifetimes so I wanted to document as much as I could from an outsider's perspective.”

Simple, respectful, surely an appropriate answer right? You weren’t lying at all. You weren’t dressing your speech up to sound important or enlightened, and best of all maybe this would show him that you aren’t miserable to be around so you can at least greet each other while the sun is up?

“Why would a human have such a close eye on an omnic form of religion?”

This time he was serious, not insulting you at all, and genuinely sincere. He did have a point though, because most of the humans around the Shambali monastery weren’t interested in anything other than violence against the omnics who inhabited the temple. You’d heard of the hate crimes happening from anti-omnic hate groups around the monastery for a couple of months now.

“I’m a scholar, I specifically study religion and how it affects the people and the world. That’s why I couldn’t ignore the invitation from Master Mondatta.”

Your reply seemed to make the omnic feel less tense, the servos in his shoulders loosening at the answer. He must’ve been just looking out for the safety of the other monks and himself. A gesture that showed the love he had for the omnics around him.

“I see. That is a respectable profession.”

The small bit of approval made you so relieved, it’s much easier to study when you’re not so on edge. You slowly relax just like he has, relieved at the acceptance, respect, and lack of hostile behavior from him.

A short, and small meeting that just so happened to be at night. The stars above are the only thing watching you two quietly talk light philosophy together, sharing some beliefs, surface-level hardships, and memories of fonder times. 

Ramattra is extremely intelligent, very aware of the social constructs binding him and his people like a constrictor to certain roles or beliefs. He is a wonderful conversationalist to someone like you who is very interested in his unique perspective inside the monastery. 

But none of your conversation truly encompasses any heavy topic- just references to how the real world is.

“Would you mind meeting here again? You’re a very good conversationalist.”

The question rings in the air for a moment as you almost stop breathing. A second goes by before Ramattra slowly answers

“I do not mind, you seem to be… open to some of my thoughts.”

Ramattra keeps it brief, his voice calm. He doesn’t get the opportunity to talk to a scholar every day and you intrigue him. You can hold an intellectual conversation and you also don’t hold many human assumptions against him as if they were written within the stone of the monastery itself. That is relieving.

You slowly leave the archives, waving a polite goodbye to your new acquaintance as he gives you a polite nod. You continue to look around the chiseled walls of the monastery, the intricate woven tapestries with brilliant woolen thread hanging from the walls, the metallic decoration all across the building’s exterior and interior. 

It’s a beautiful sight, and the stars above add a bit of extra light to the otherwise dim hallways.  You finally make it to your room before going to sleep. But you continue to think about your meeting with him.

Chapter Two, Talk

Multiple days have gone by since you first met Ramattra in the archive. As of tonight, it has been your fourth time talking with him in the archives past ten at night. You two have embraced the late-night meetings, even if he still treats you as he did before during the daytime. 

You decide against asking him about it, because if he didn’t like talking to you he would’ve stopped showing up at the archives so late at night.

Tonight in particular, you’re excited to see Ramattra. During the light you were able to catch Zenyatta and talked to him about his relationship to Ramattra and what got them to be so close, It turns out that Ramattra is the reason Zenyatta is a monk in the first place and that alone is inspiring to you.

Sadly, you couldn’t talk to Zenyatta all day because of his duties but you did catch him eyeing Ramattra after your conversation. Hopefully, you didn’t set him up for any awkward conversations, or maybe he could finally let go of his pride and treat you like he does during your private meetings.

You’re back in the hallway that leads to the monastery’s archives again, but this time you can’t seem to focus on your surroundings like you’ve done in the days before. The door seemed nearly foreboding, light seeping out of the door frame. At least you knew Ramattra was there.

As you enter, you’re met by the sight of Ramattra already sitting at your table, he has a glass of tea for you hot and ready, and has already moved his books to the side to give you space to rest your arms.

“Greetings, I hope you are well.”

He bows his head slightly to your entrance as you slide into your regular seat with him. You smile as you sit beside him and take a sip of your freshly brewed tea.

“Hello Ramattra, I’m good- how are you today?”

The warm drink swirls around in the cup before you, the scent of herbs and honey the only thing other than old dusty times within the archives. Ramattra is relaxed, his staff propped up against the wall beside him.

“I am also well, it’s lovely to see you again.”

Ramattra’s head bowed slightly to you and he watched you slowly sip the tea he brought for you. He remembered the type of tea you like after he asked you the day before but took it upon himself to add a little bit of honey for the colder nights in the monastery.

“Any particular topics you want to go over today? I know you mentioned some interest in the Abrahamic mythos yesterday, right?”

The omnic nodded, folding his hands on the table before you.

“Yes, the story of Lucifer was specifically interesting to me, Could you tell me more about it?”

This night in particular talked about heavier Christian myths of Lucifer and jumped around to Dante’s Inferno more than once. Ramattra’s dissection of the multiple texts proved to be thought-provoking.

You two both spoke about hypotheticals and then more about the many layers of Hell that Dante described within his multiple books- which also got many questions and critiques from Ramattra.

But, you two both circled back to the conversation of fate, freedom, and liberation, and how that tied to the story of Lucifer’s fall. Ramattra just couldn’t let the story go and wanted to continue to contemplate the ancient tragedy.

“He never truly had any freedom; his entire existence was fated from the beginning. How did he betray God if it was his purpose to betray and fall? Why was he punished for doing what he was made to do?”

Ramattra rambled on and on, you added quips in between his arguments, analysis, and critiques. This conversation in particular was more passionate on Ramattra’s end than anything else you’ve seen from him.

Maybe he sees a similarity between the Christian devil and himself, that’s the only reason you could think of why he was so overzealous about the analysis of the story.

Hours passed while you two spoke, but you’re only human and the cold fingers of exhaustion gripped your mind, your eyes finally heavy for the night.

“I’m sorry Ramattra, I’m just getting really tired- can we call it here for the night?”

He stopped speaking before slowly nodding in understanding. Honestly, he should’ve kept more track of time but he just loved being listened to and found your insights enthralling. But, sadly you were only human and still had to sleep- ‘poor design’ he thought, ‘poor optimization.’

You stood up from your seat and shuffled behind Ramattra, listening to the quiet hum of his fans get a little louder. You took note of his reaction to you just from getting a little closer than usual.

He stood up after you, following you to the door. The sound of his footfalls was heavy but graceful against the cold stone floors- the intricate designs seemingly rippling away from him.

You waved your goodbyes, and finally turned away from him but right before you stepped out of the archives for the night-

Ramattra grabs your arm lightly, his optics staring right at you. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his LEDs on your face.

“I would like to see you under different circumstances tomorrow night. I wish for you to teach me about the forms of worship you study.”

You nod in understanding. That’s easy enough because that is your job at this point. Of course, you could teach him about other religions across time but you’d think he’d already have a comparative understanding in his memory already.

“I don’t believe I said that correctly, What I meant was-“

His voice anchored you to the ground.

“I yearn for you to worship me.” 

There is suddenly no sound in the room at all other than the heavy beating of your heart right in your eardrums and the sound of his fans whirring.

His hands take yours as you are blown away by his bold showing of affection. But, you are still silent.

“Come here tomorrow if you wish to indulge my curiosity for you. But for tonight, think about my proposal.” 

He finally lets go of your hands after bringing one to his faceplate. There’s a quick vibration that came from it, seemingly a kiss.

He then gives you a polite bow and finally leaves you alone. You finally let out a sigh of relief. You wait until Ramattra is completely out of the hallway and you have no possible way to run into him again as you quickly and quietly scurry down the hallway, the pattern on the stone floor a blur as you shut yourself into your room and rub your eyes and try to wake up from this asinine dream. 

The last thing you think of is the sound of his voice against your ear before you have a nearly sleepless night.

…

Ramattra walks as calmly as he can back to his quarters. He has either made an amazing proposition or made the biggest mistake in his life.

He didn’t know why he’d been thinking about you so often- maybe it was because you didn’t seem so scared of him because of what he is.

Maybe it’s because you could hold an intellectual conversation with him and didn’t push away his ideas even if they were admittedly, radical.

Maybe, he just wanted to see you under him. To explore his own repressed desires and yearnings. It didn’t even need to be an emotional affair, he told himself, it could just be a quick tryst and you can go back to talking in the archives late like nothing happened.

His rash and utterly impulsive decision to tell you about his feelings had left his body and mind buzzing, By the Iris he couldn’t even sit down with how much extra energy his body was creating. 

He’s notorious for being awful with words during stressful situations which is why he’s started logging what he wants to say before he says it- this is something he should’ve logged before stepping into the archives that night.

Ignoring some errors popping up in his mind, he decided to go through the last two times you both had spoken to each other within his memory. His coolant finally caught up to the amount of kinetic energy he was giving off.

His form of sleep for the night would just be looking at you and listening to you talk.

Chapter Three, Worship*

You came to see Ramattra tonight in the archives again, once again meeting him under the cover of night during a quiet night. Your feet feel heavy as you finally make it to the archives where he is waiting, no longer admiring the Buddhist art all around the hallway you just walked through. Your eyes are completely on the door as you slowly open it to see

Nothing. 

He doesn’t seem to be here. 

He is usually here, waiting for you.

It’s an unwelcome surprise. You waited for hours just to see him again. 

So why would he now finally leave you?

 He could just fucking with you… Or maybe something came up?

“Greetings, my apologies for being late. I was just making sure I was… prepared for the evening.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. He isn’t even remotely quiet so how did he sneak up on you? Were you so encompassed in your thoughts that you couldn’t even hear the ravager walking down the same hallway you did? Your head was high up in the clouds.

Ramattra was close, his robes in their normal state. His faceplate was no different but he had a different aura about him, like a man on a mission. His optics danced over you quickly before settling back on your face.

“And have you thought of my proposal? I will take any answer you give me.”

He steps before you, patient but excited. You can hear the whirring of his fans more than usual. Maybe he’s nervous.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Simple, effective, and quick. But not as quick as Ramattra was to feel you.

His hands are on you quickly, and the instant the metal touches your waist you’re hit with the true coldness of his alloy against you, his servos working overtime, his fans nearly purring, and his optics scanning you like you’re made out of marble. The contrast of how warm the insides of his palms are compared to his fingers surprises you.

Ramattra is full of passion and has been for a very long time. He is intimidating, devoted, intellectual, and arrogant. But as of now, his hands are running along your waist. His fingers mushing into your sides, molding you out of clay like Prometheus did for mankind, worshipping you like he’s ready to crawl down to the underworld for you like Orpheus.

He finally kneels before you in such reverence that you would’ve thought you were the most beautifully sculpted idol.

His hands snake up your sides as he slides them up to right under your chest before bowing his head before you.

“You feel divine under me.”

His words are quiet, full of light static, and from deep within his voice box. He slowly tugs you down to his level, so you are on your knees and burrows his faceplate into your neck, a quick vibration coming from his forehead- his way of kissing you. He moves his faceplate around your upper body and face, drowning you in his affection before he finally speaks again.

“I can feel your heart rate and temperature rising…” he murmurs into your skin

“I’m glad you’re indulging in my fantasies.”

He gets off the floor, leaving you on your knees before him. He is ominous. He is an omen before you. Intimidating, impossible to feat, and beautiful.

“Can you worship your God?”

His hand now lies on your head as he closes the space between you. As he says this, steam rolls off his back.

“Our secret rendezvous… a tryst between lovers…

 And soon you’ll wish for more than these clandestine encounters.”

You’re still looking up at him. The monk with a beautiful halo of light above him from one of the archives’ lights still on and with the steam still coming out of him he looked ethereal- like the devil himself. 

His hand guides your chin up and you look dazed into his optics as he chuckles, the sound deep coming from within his chassis. 

You’re pulled to him like he is the moon and you’re the ocean, nearly magnetized by his presence alone. His chassis is hot, his hands are hot, and one of his cables is now draped in front of him. His dishevelment spurs you to finally act.

Your hands explore his chest first, feeling his alloy and moving his robes to get better access to his body. A sigh escapes you as you remove the lighter colored scarf that’s tied around his waist and slowly unravel it and lay it beside you. You tug at his chest plate to have him kneel before you and he quickly gets the memo- kneeling before you as you spread kisses along his chassis, dragging your lips along the alloy of his collar-plate and down his arms, kissing his fingers one-by-one.

Ramattra doesn’t feel the need to verbally express his pleasure because his fans sound like they’re going to lift him off the floor. Quiet static still escapes him though. He quickly ignores the warnings about his rising temperature.

Relishing in the sight of you bowed before him, your eyes wide staring at him through thick lashes, and looking to him to guide you-

He never realized just how much this electrified him. The power he held over you was intoxicating.

He never realized just how much he truly liked being treated like he was divine.

“You look sublime below me…”

His voice roils with the power of an imploding star, his voice booming in your head like the Abrahamic God speaking from the burning bush to Moses. He lights a pure white flame within your soul. His hands start to tug on your shirt and he quickly takes it off of you.

“If you do not stop me now, your fate will be inevitable, but be my prophet, and I shall make your body into my shrine.”

He commands you like Poseidon commands the typhoons of Greece- and you follow his every order earnestly and with the voracious strength of a hurricane. You whisper a “yes” to him and he becomes even more handsy with you, dragging his fingers down your spine and pressing his hands against the indent of your lower back, forcing you even more into his body.

“Now then, I will splay you out like a true offering to the Gods.”

He is as beautiful as the fallen angel Lucifer, manipulating your thoughts with his silky voice. His beauty is enamoring and clawing at you to sin to stay within his grasp forever. The only thought left in your head is how you could please him.

He then pushed you on your back and completely caged you in. His large body being perfect for the task, his cables now fell around your head. While drenched in the red light of his LEDs, Ramattra removed his tunic- leaving his pants on. His bare chest had gold detailing which your hands traced. 

He finally grabbed the waist of your pants and tugged them off with your help, a satisfied grunt coming from the man above you.

Without much of a warning, Ramattra grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs over your head, forcing you into a salacious pose- you didn’t get much time to stretch for this anyway… but he didn’t seem to care.

“You will give me everything you have.”

His demands bordered on profane but what could you say as you were spread out nearly bare to him? He was so dominant with you now- overwhelmed with the contact and thought of ravaging you.

He did think about ripping your underwear off of you and spent an embarrassing amount of processing power on whether he should or shouldn’t- but after seeing your legs over your head he just had to.

The rip of your underwear tears through the room along with your sharp gasp and Ramattra stops right after, his optics taking in the sight of you.

Metal hands grab your jaw and press cold fingers against your mouth. His fingers soon press down on your tongue as you swirl and suck his fingers- the static is louder than before and he chuckles.

“Good. You obey me well.”

His fingers leave your mouth with a string of saliva still on them, trailing down your body before he traces in between your thighs. He doesn’t waste any time.

One digit enters you slowly, his fingers are thick and his hands are large. While he slowly fucks you, his other hand rests besides your head as he finally cages you back into him.

Your quiet gasps and whines fill the room, everything is hazy now other than Ramattra. His hand moves slowly and with purpose. Even now he is reluctant to give you much. He can tell you’re growing restless while you can tell he’s getting cocky.

“If you want more from me, you must beg.”

He sneers from above you while lewd sounds still permeate the air. You have enough room to grab his wrist and milk this moment for all that it’s worth and hopefully get what you want at the same time.

“Please— don’t stop, it feels good.”

His movement stopped, his fans nearly pouring heat out of him before he removed his finger, and then added two more.

His thrusts are much faster now and he presses himself against you like an animal. Your surprised moans fuel his desire to scourge you. He’d make sure to keep this moment saved in a special file in his memory just so he could remember the sight of you.

You could handle one finger before but three? And at the pace he set? You were bound to come undone before him in a matter of minutes.

His fingers were long, thick, and the pace would easily leave you bruised and sensitive for a while afterwards. Shortly, you felt the arousal in your belly start to build like white-hot energy. 

Ramattra could also tell, even if you weren’t panting like an animal in heat. Your heart rate was skyrocketing and he was going to bleed you dry.

If you weren’t already close, his fingers starting to vibrate inside of you changed that. Such a demanding pace, with such thick and long fingers, and now vibrating against gummy walls had you tumbling down your orgasm fast- a loud moan of Ramattra’s name the last thing you said before you saw stars.

When he saw you cum from such a vulgar position he finally understood those who sook out pleasure. Your body had a sheen layer of sweat that made you look radiant, your body shivering like you’d just been reborn and it was all from him. Your seraphic form in such a devilish pose made his mind nearly overload.

But he did not let up the pace. His voice box made a sound similar to a shaky breath as he continued past your first orgasm, fucking you easily into overstimulation.

Once you realized that he truly wasn’t willing to stop at one orgasm, you had to hold on to his chassis like your life depended on it. 

His chest plate finally opened before you, many wires and steam before you. Ramattra spoke quietly to you-

“Pick a wire and pull it taught- if you’re lucky it should force me to reboot.”

His voice was breathy and he didn’t have enough hands to direct your hands for himself, and allowed to pleasure him you easily followed his instructions.

Haphazardly grabbing a small handful of wires and pulling, you forced a sharp groan from above you and he slowed down his finger-fucking. His response egged you on as you continued to manhandle his wires

His vision was clouding up with warnings from his essential systems which he quickly closed to focus on you. He could feel himself losing some control- but that was expected. He felt you feeling around in his chest cavity before you grabbed a particularly sensitive wire and pulled.

The sound you heard in return was divine.

A long, deep moan full of static stuttered out of his voice box and his head fell, his hands stuttering inside of you. His first failsafe was overloaded quickly and was sent to his second he was close and he could tell you were too.

“Cum only when I say so.”

He was cutting out every other word, his overheating finally making him glitch and with the rest of your brain power, you grabbed your last remaining wires and twisted them in between your fingers.

Ramattra released a groan before bringing his head to meet you, his optics laying on your eyes once again as he sped up his fingers and rested his faceplate on your forehead.

“Now.”

You yanked hard on his wires as you both came- your legs shook wildly while his entire body shook. Moans filled the quiet night before the lights on Ramattra’s head went dark for a second

Ramattra’s second failsafe was easily overwhelmed by you, his entire body shutting down and forcefully rebooting. Within three minutes he was back awake, the red LEDs on his forehead igniting as his optics refocused on your fucked-out form sweaty, and your lower body drenched in your spend.

He slowly removed his fingers from you and sat back up, taking your hand and sitting you up into him after you set your legs down. Your hips burn from the intensity. He wipes his fingers onto his pants and helps you redress- minus your destroyed underwear.

You both didn’t say much after. He wrapped his scarf around you and sat with you as you both recovered though, he was sweet and stayed without being asked.

“I enjoyed our time together… and I hope we can do this again.”