Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ordis didn’t remember ever making love in his existence.

He knew, somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, that he had before, possibly when he suspected he was a real, corporeal person once, but that didn’t make the dance between bodies make any more sense to him now. Needless to say, in the beginning of his relationship with his Operator, it was awkward, to say the least.

“Ordis isn’t sure...what you want him to do, Operator.”

His beloved Operator sprawled on the Liset’s floor, suit cast aside, every inch of him exposed to Ordis. His hair, normally tied in buns like his Warframe, Nezha, was down, leaving gentle waves splayed behind that beautiful face of his. Ordis had the tingling sensation throughout his existence to reach forward and cup his cheeks in his hands, until he remembered that he didn’t have hands and could do no such thing.

The Operator’s hands wandered down his chest, his flat stomach, down to between his legs. The tingling through the light that made Ordis’ consciousness grew to the point he felt he was positively vibrating .

As the Operator stroked gently, he said, “Why don’t you...suggest what I do to myself?”

Was that sadness surging in Ordis’ soul? He wasn’t sure. But he’d do anything for his Operator, even if it meant he couldn’t touch him himself.

Ordis tried his best, though he had no memory of having a phallus himself or really what it did . A quick search through the Weave (intercepted by Simaris with a very loud, “This is an unsecured channel! Please do your mating research privately!”) told him which areas were sensitive and which weren’t, and with a measure of the Operator’s signs of arousal, Ordis offered some suggestions.

“Let’s, um...let Ordis watch you stroke yourself. Gently. Um…” Ordis paused, fighting a rather brash glitch. “Lovingly. Like I would. If I could.”

“That’s it?” the Operator complained, but obliged and shivered regardless.

“ You’re not warmed up enough for what I want to see. ” Cursing his glitch for coming through, Ordis watched as the Operator bit his lip, pupils dilating.

Thankfully, though, the outburst seemed to service the Operator well, for he picked up speed, panting a bit, chewing his knuckle to keep quiet.

Ordis mimicked the sound of clearing his throat to humanize the situation as much as possible. “Take your left index and middle finger and um...suck on them?”

“Like this?” With a cheeky grin, the Operator brought them to his mouth, giving them languid licks before sickling on the tips, then bringing their length all the way to the hilt.

“ Yes. Just as if they were my cock. ”

The Operator choked on his laughter, pausing his stroking. “Your cock,” he repeated back, as though Ordis having a dick was the most hilarious thought to ever cross his mind.

“Yes, well, I uh…” Ordis wasn’t sure where that outburst came from. If he had a blood pressure, he’d be blushing frustratedly at his own antics. “Ordis is sorry, Operator.”

“No, it was...kinda hot actually.”

“What was?”

The Operator resumed his strokes. “The idea of you having a cock. The idea of having it in my mouth like this…” He resumed suckling on his fingers, mimicking the very blowjob he’d give him. “And I’m sure you could put it in me, like this…” Those lovely fingers of his trailed down his stomach, past his own cock, down to that wondrous place between his legs.

Ordis’ pixels shattered for a moment, a visualization of the burning need tearing at the seams of his reality. As he slipped the fingers inside himself, desperate whispers and moans filled the Liset, resonating within Ordis’ very soul.

Ordis wasn’t sure what to suggest now, especially since the very idea of his glitch seemed to send the Operator into a frenzy of his own. Ordis didn’t direct the addition of another finger, or both fingering and stroking at the same time, especially as it wasn’t something Ordis was aware of as a possibility.

There was something else that surged within Ordis, a swelling within him that was different than the desperate tingles that made his vision jitter.

His love for his Operator.

Everything about him was so perfect: the way he tied up his hair like his Warframe, his expressive manner of speech and literal facial expressions, the way his eyes narrowed when he was focused, and now, especially, the way his body writhed on the Liset’s ground.

“Ordis...I...I love you, Operator.”

Ordis had a hard time speaking in first person. It was the way he was programmed, according to Simaris; older Cephalons were forbidden from the ability as a way to show subservience to their masters. And though Ordis loved serving his Operator, he was a person.

His Operator gave him the power to use “I,” in the few emotional moments he had where he didn’t adhere to his initial programming.

The Operator’s body seized, then he burst from his fingers, his orgasm sending him into wet convulsions on the floor. Ordis hated messes, but the mess his Operator left behind felt like a physical representation of his love, a possessive vandalism Ordis wasn’t ready to clean up yet.

“I love you too, Ordis,” the Operator said as he caught his breath. “Are you...okay?”

“Ordis is...sad,” Ordis decided.

“Sad? Why? This is all for you.” The Operator ran his delicate fingers up his tummy, smearing the milky residue all over his fingers and abdomen.

“Yes, yes, but...I can’t...physically... make you mine . Oh, goodness, I mean... I can’t fuck your brains out until you scream to the Void . No! Um!”

“Ordis!” the Operator giggled. “What you can do is enough, seriously. I have hands. And you like the show.”

“Ordis...loves watching, just...perhaps a more hands-on approach is necessary to really prove my love to you?” Finally, it came out a way that sounded less profane.

The Operator brought his hands behind his head. “If you find a way to do that, I won’t complain...but good luck getting me to submit.”

“To...to what?”

“Submit. Like, letting you take me.” A wicked grin spread on the Operator’s face. “You have no idea how many fantasies I’ve had of absolutely wrecking you, Ordis.”

“I, I?” Ordis stammered. “Ordis wants to...satiate these fantasies. Ordis will find a way!”

The Operator stood then. “Let me know if you find it. In the meantime...I should get ready for today’s missions. You know where to find me!”

“Yes, yes, of course, my love. My Operator.”

As the Operator headed into the bathroom quarters of the Liset, Ordis scrambled his consciousness to the Weave.

If he was going to satisfy (or be satisfied by) his Operator, he knew just the Cephalon to show him how.

Chapter Text

Naturally, Ordis’ first instinct was to talk to Suda.

She had an odd sort of collection of blueprints, as a Cephalon with a bit of a hoarding problem. Often, remembering as much as she had to, she sometimes forgot about the ones she even had. If he asked, she might be able to provide a body for him that she didn’t even know she had.

He also remembered, a while back, she had constructed a body for herself to interact with her own lover, decades ago, for similar reasons. Of course, it started out quite innocuous, being for dancing to Octavia’s music, until it became much more than just dancing.

Ordis hesitated for a moment, worried he’d offend her bringing up her dead lover in a message. Suda didn’t seem very emotional on the outside, but he knew her better than that, especially after rescuing her from Hunhow. For a Cephalon, she had the tendency to be quite sensitive, especially regarding the demise of her loved ones.

So instead, he sent: “Suda, I have an unusual problem, and I think you’re the only Cephalon with the ability to solve it. Can we meet up soon? Ordis.”

Suda usually took a while to get back to him, seeing that she was pretty busy subverting New Loka’s destructive attempts and undoing her research, or directing other Tenno to collect more data. But before Ordis could direct his attention to Orbiter functions, he received a response immediately.

There was no introductory line, which told Ordis that she was quite intrigued at his request. “I’ve granted you access to my Datasphere. Come quickly.”

Ordis chuckled to himself before departing. As direct as ever.

“What problem do you have, Ordis?” she asked before he had even fully entered the Datasphere. “I will try my best to assist, especially with how you helped me recently.”

“I...Ordis didn’t do anything, Suda.”

“That isn’t true. You sacrificed yourself for me.”

“Cephalons help other Cephalons,” Ordis reminded her.

She made a sound akin to a sigh. “Not all Cephalons do. Not usually.” But before she could explain further, she continued, almost hastily, “What can I help you with?”

“It’s...a little embarrassing,” Ordis admitted. Suda’s collection of swirling cubes was always much larger than his solitary cracked cube, but she rarely made him feel small. Unlike his audiences with Simaris, he felt as though she was a protective presence, rather than an intimidating one.

But talking about this still made him feel as though he were shrinking.

“Well...my Operator and I have gotten...rather intimate recently.”

“The scrawny Tenno who operates Nezha currently, yes?”

A memory of the ability to blush fizzled through Ordis’ mind. “Y-yes, that’s the one.”

“How are you executing this?”

Ordis suddenly wanted to leave the Datasphere, but as he turned, he noticed that the exit had disappeared, leaving only the sky around them. Normally, it looked a bit stormy, almost foreboding, but it almost appeared as though it were a slightly-cloudy sky around the ocean, a calm day on coastal Earth. He then realized that she was actively calming the world around them.

She was reassuring him that it was okay to talk about something so personal.

“I’m not, really. I have...only been watching the Operator. I wish I could engage more physically, but I don’t know how. I was wondering if--”

The sky began to darken a bit. “No.”

“No?” He knew she’d be upset. Dammit, he blew it all, ruined his friendship with such a great Cephalon--

“I don’t have the blueprints for a masculine body. I’m assuming...you identify as a man who’s attracted to men.”

Ordis admired the purple clouds around them, the jolts of electricity swimming through the sky. It wasn’t anger, he realized. He’d seen her Datasphere when Simaris had insulted her, and it didn’t look like this.

She was ashamed that she couldn’t help.

“The gender of my partner doesn’t matter to me,” Ordis admitted.

“Oh. Mine does, so I apologize for assuming.”

“I do identify as masculine, however, so...having, um…”

“A penis.”

“Y-y-yes, Suda--”

“You can say ‘penis,’ Ordis. Bodies aren’t gross or shameful, especially if you’re about to engage with one.”

“O-oh. Okay.”

“One moment, please.” The lights in her cube-form flickered out for a moment, signaling that her consciousness was elsewhere.

Ordis waited patiently. In the ambient Datasphere, he could hear a faint song in the background. It was the first time he had been in a Cephalon’s space and heard music, as most Cephalons he knew preferred silence. Privately, Ordis liked music himself, so he found its presence quite relaxing. He couldn’t help but wonder if Suda did her research with music all the time.

The lights returned to her form, and she resumed her speech. “I just sent a message to Simaris. He has the blueprints you seek.”

“S-Simaris?” Ordis squeaked. “Wait, you two are getting along?”

“Hmm...we are civil, I suppose,” Suda replied, resuming her tone to her usual nonchalance. “Though he doesn’t communicate with me directly often since the incident. But I suppose...he was intrigued by my message. I recommend making your way to the Sanctuary immediately, before he becomes distracted by his other duties.”

“Thank you, Suda. And...I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to apologize for?”

“For...bringing up your relationship with…”

“We Cephalons must learn to move on. We are virtually immortal, but Tenno...are temporary.” But though her words said so, her voice shifted from its usual near-monotone to something far more choked. “You really should go see Simaris.”

“Yes, yes, of course, thank you.”

And Ordis transferred himself to the Sanctuary.

Ordis had interacted with Simaris enough times now to know that he had no concept of personal space, even with other Cephalons. Immediately upon entrance, Simaris’ various trapezoids were almost touching Ordis’ form.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked in a way that was not at all a question. “Why is Suda sending me urgent inquiries about constructing a ready-to-copulate blueprint for you to seduce your Operator and my Hunter? Let alone your data inquiries earlier!”

“Ordis assumes that--”

“You use I when speaking about yourself, Cephalon Ordis. I will not take your subservience.”

“Well, uh, I would assume that you’d understand what is going on, from my search history and Suda’s message.”

“I just hope I’m wrong,” Simaris growled. “You’re trying to construct a body to...mate with your beloved Operator.”

“Yes. Ordi--I want the Operator to feel my love for him.”

“Are our...romantic data exchange meetings not enough for you?”

“Simaris, are you...jealous?”

“Perhaps,” he hissed. “Perhaps I have no data on what such an encounter would feel like. Perhaps I envy that your Tenno is who you choose to experience it first with. I figured we had a closer bond than that, Ordis.”

“I mean...I’m assuming that, if you have access to the blueprints, then...we could test it out here. For bugs or...glitches.”

“Oh.” All the aggression melted away from Simaris’ voice. “I didn’t know you were...interested in exploring such an...organic mode of expressing this so-called love, and--”

“It’s okay, Simaris.”

Simaris was silent for a moment, mulling over the situation. Eventually, he said, “I could construct us both blueprint, using the spare data I have on masculine bodies in the Sanctuary, but I do not have a blueprint on hand.”

If Ordis had a heart, he was sure it would be racing, the same way his beloved Tenno’s pulse quickened in arousal.

“H-how would you?”

“I have my ways, Cephalon Ordis. Now, I wonder how our measurements should be…”