Wolfboy_

Ayo! I’m Ghost — 20 , trans guy (he/him), artist & certified sleepyhead Artist? Kinda. Ghost? Definitely. Posts come when I wake up… if I wake up 💤

[ghostwolfboy]

Soooo im gonna start posting my drifter/operator headcanons and maybe some art if I get the humor to it. I plan making all on a separate tag so it’s easy to find.

I’m new in Warframe so maybe some stuff it’s wrong but I will try my best!

The tag is #Aetherion vs the void

Fell free to ask or comment if you wanna! ✨

Scars of Steel here!!!

[chubs-deuce]

@ninnosaurus shared a little tiktok comp of couples randomly doing this and the partners on the receiving end get adorably flustered and giddy, and I saw her vision so VIVIDLY I had to draw it~

[pirrupitpu]

I wish More than anything

[blamethecows-draws]

Hi everyone so Im gonna be going on another hiatus, cause well Im going to have final exams very soon and won't have much free time.

For the time being can I offer you a Lyon meme in this trying time?

[lowerfish96]

minecraft thing

alt version ewe

[starhoodies]

[ciricearts]

a little sleepy but he did it anyway

[karuframe]

Drunken affections

[lowerfish96]

Warframe drifters magma with @ghostwolfboy :b

[ghostwolfboy]

Scars of Steel (3/?)

Hey, it’s me again! I really hope you like this one, I had a lot of fun writing it! hehehe

TW: severe burns, graphic injury description, medical trauma, blood, panic attacks, implied self-blame / guilt, violence.

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His mouth was dry, so dry his tongue stuck to his palate and peeled off, leaving behind that viscous pull. At first, he didn’t feel pain. Honestly, it surprised him not to feel pain after being hit by a rocket launcher. But then he noticed it: the way his throat clenched in a silent snarl, nerves exploding all at once. Even the faintest touch of air made his skin prickle, nerves laid bare like magma—red, burned and blistering hot. Hot enough to bubble the flesh, with no blood left because it had all been burned away. He couldn’t move, not when he felt them shifting him, and the pain was so sharp, so overwhelming, he couldn’t even pass out. It had gone past the point where death even seemed possible.

The sharp clack of metal boots echoed through the ruined mall, mixed with Arthur’s desperate shouts telling survivors to clear out, and Lettie barking for space. Soon the sting of antiseptic filled the air, mixing with the stench of burned flesh and salted fat that made anyone nearby retch. But Lettie couldn’t let herself gag. Couldn’t let her hands shake, even as the rhythmic sound of metal tools blended with the broken, muffled whimpers coming from the victim of that cruel blast. It had to be mechanical, methodical, steps drilled into her from militia training. This wasn’t the first time she’d treated burns this bad—but it was the first time she truly feared she might fail.

“Call Vell. No, I need him” Lettie’s voice cut through the noise. Sure, forceful, edged with a desperation that meant she didn’t even look at anyone when she said it.

An almost animal growl ripped through the air. “What the fuck do you mean by that? We ain’t got time to bloody find—” Quincy’s words were slapped out of his mouth by a single sharp strike. His eyes, wild with rage, met Aoi’s, and that fury dissolved into raw confusion.

“If Lettie says go get Vell, then you go get Vell” There were tears in Aoi’s eyes, caught on her lashes, threatening to fall. Maybe it was the way she looked at him—like they’d already lost, that finally pushed Quincy into motion. If Vell was anywhere, it’d be with Amir.

He reached the arcade. For the first time, it stood silent, lights off except a single lamp in the back office that threw moving shadows of those inside. Quincy made sure his steps were loud so he wouldn’t startle them. Inside were Amir, Eleanor and Vell. The sight twisted something sharp in Quincy’s chest.

Amir, shaking uncontrollably, clung to Vell and Eleanor, crying so hard static sparked across his skin like racing lightning, fingers twitching as they dug into Vell’s jacket. Quincy knew Amir needed them more than anything. He’d been in that same dark place, guilt turning your insides rotten. Except unlike him, Amir’s guilt still breathed—for now.

“Hey, they need you outside. Now” Maybe he sounded calm. Like he wasn’t seconds away from tearing himself apart from helplessness. Vell’s look was clear as day: Not moving. Even at gunpoint. Quincy dragged a hand over his scalp, breath ragged. “I’ll stay with him. Lettie needs you. She asked for you, herself”

Vell studied him. He knew how complicated things were between Quincy and Amir, enough to say no outright. He was about to, when Quincy slammed a hand into the wall, voice shaking. Quincy’s eyes burned with desperation, not hate. Hands trembling. A breath so ragged it might break. And in his gaze, a plea so raw it nearly split Vell in two. Eyes so close to tears that Vell had never seen before.

A sigh was Vell’s only answer. He turned to Amir, pressing kisses to his tear-wet cheeks, hands brushing trembling skin. He promised he’d be back as soon as possible. Amir collapsed to his knees, clutching Vell’s clothes, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he whispered broken words, begging Vell to stay.

Eleanor had to pry Amir’s hands free, gripping them firmly, while Vell ran off, bile rising in his throat at leaving Amir like that. Only Eleanor, Amir, and Quincy stayed behind. Maybe Quincy had never shown what Amir truly meant to him, that bond, that quiet brotherhood. But now wasn’t the time to hold anything back. They needed each other as badly as lungs needed air. They fell into a desperate embrace: sniper and runner, holding each other like drowning men while Eleanor quietly slipped through their minds, humming lullabies to soothe them. None of them were usually physical, but in that moment, they stayed like that, shoulder to shoulder, facing the unknown together. Like the family they’d become.

The next twelve hours crawled by, heavy with dread so thick it felt like it dug under the skin. Hunger gnawed at them, but the real weight was fear… fear that the doors would open with the worst news. When the makeshift infirmary doors finally opened, Arthur was waiting.

“How’s the drifter?” Arthur’s voice was rough, weary, but edged with hope. “He’ll live. Should wake up in a few hours. Though if it were me… I wouldn’t want to” Vell answered, peeling off blood-soaked gloves, tossing them into the trash.

Vell felt drained, not just from the surgery, but from the thought that kept circling him: maybe it’d be easier to reset him, to let Aetherion forget what lay ahead. But he couldn’t do that. Not without talking to everyone first, to his pillow, to Amir. Lost in thought, Vell didn’t even realize his knees were about to give out, adrenaline gone. It wasn’t the hand on his waist that pulled him back, but who it belonged to. Amir.

“Hey pretty boy, you look like you could use a break” Amir’s voice was playful, like he hadn’t just almost torn the arcade apart in panic. Vell exhaled, shaky, surprised but grateful, pressing a kiss to Amir’s lips. “We both should” Amir added, quick as always, dragging them off toward their room, ducking away from everyone’s eyes, especially Quincy’s.

Eleanor’s voice reached everyone’s heads, a soft warning: They’re here, just before a loud crash echoed from the loading bay. Everyone except Amir and Vell ran to see what happened, smoke curling away. There, in the center, stood two young, hooded figures. One with a long braid, posture sharp and threatening; the other just behind him, calmer but not timid. “Where is he?” asked the one with the braid, leveling a pistol at Arthur. Behind them, something that looked like an alien dog growled low.

“Identify yourselves!” Arthur barked, sword raised. The rest of the Hex held still, not wanting to provoke the beast.

“Aetherion. Where is he?” the braided one demanded again, lowering his hood to reveal a face that looked exactly like Aetherion’s, only younger. Quincy felt the blood drain from his face; he couldn’t tell if it was shock or leftover adrenaline. Because when the other figure lowered his hood… he looked just like Vell.

“Bloody hell”

[ghostwolfboy]

Probably posting the 3rd part of the fanfic tonight! ✨✨✨ Thank you for the support and the comments here and on AO3

[ghostwolfboy]

An explosion was the first sign to Arthur that something had gone wrong. They were almost there, but the unmistakable sound of a blast forced them to hurry.

> A story about my Drifter crossing paths with the Hex! There’ll be romance, pain, scars and so much more… maybe even another Drifter, haha.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Team Dynamics, Idiots in Love, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Background Relationships, Its another drifter x amir, No beta we die like entrati, Survivor Guilt, Time Travel, Trans Male Character, Trans Amir Beckett, Friends to Lovers, Scars, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Burn injuries, Serious Injuries, Major Character Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Identity Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, Team as Family, Family Dynamics, Tenno also appear, And Velion, Those two are in love your honor

[ghostwolfboy]

Scars of Steel (2/?)

A little drama! hehehe

Pt 3 here

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An explosion was the first sign to Arthur that something had gone wrong. They were almost there, but the unmistakable sound of a blast forced them to hurry. 

“Lettie, stick close behind me. Quincy, keep your eyes sharp, no surprises. Aoi, open us a path” He didn’t need to tell Eleanor to shield them; she already knew.

They advanced cautiously, firing at the Infested emerging from the clearing smoke. Then they saw Sevagoth kneeling on the ground, holding something, Amir, clinging desperately to Aetherion’s metal frame. Amir trembled, electricity running through him like a pulse, a heartbeat keeping him alive.

“I’m alright!” Amir shouted first, trying to keep the team from worrying, old habits never die. Aoi, Lettie and Arthur closed in, kneeling beside him, brushing off the dust and checking for wounds. “We’re alright… Aetherion got us covered with his frame” Amir added, his voice tasting of metal, joy and pain mixed together.

“Arthur, get Amir outta there, now. He don’t need to see this…” Quincy’s voice crackled over the comm, stopping Arthur and Lettie, who went from looking at Amir to staring at the smoke rising from Sevagoth’s back. Lettie’s mouth opened slightly, finally understanding why Aetherion hadn’t moved or spoken.

From the front, the warframe looked mostly normal, just streaked with ash and smoke. But behind, it was badly damaged, a hole burned clean through its back where it had taken the rocket blast to protect Amir. Eleanor moved to hold Amir so he wouldn’t look as Aetherion’s body ejected from the warframe, hitting the ground, revealing burnt flesh and the acrid scent of cooked meat filling the air.

“To the mall, now!” Lettie began shouting orders, and no one questioned her. They couldn’t. Not now.

[ghostwolfboy]

Scars of Steel (1/?)

Hi! I’d like to share a short story about Aetherion and the Hex! I hope you enjoy it. English isn’t my first language, so I apologize if you notice any mistakes I did my best to keep the characters close to canon. Comments are very welcome, and I’m planning to continue the story soon!l

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No one could blame him for feeling immortal, in some ways, he truly was. Not everyone could walk away alive after being run through with a sword, decapitated, or from any of the long list of reasons he had died before. Besides, how could anyone not feel indestructible when your body was protected by tons of metallic armor, armor that was not only incredibly tough but also built for killing. He had different warframes to choose from, but none compared to his favorite: Sevagoth. Nothing felt quite like crashing against the ground only to rise again, diving straight back into the bloody frenzy.

Usually, he watched from the rooftops, striking from a distance and clearing the perimeter for the Hex. But there were times when his mind seemed to race faster than reason, his heart pounding as he hurled himself like a starving beast into the enemy army, moving as light as a feather in the air, sharp claws shredding opponents effortlessly. It wasn’t easy to show expression through a warframe, but it was clear in a dark, twisted way how much he relished standing at the front of the battle. No matter how heavy that metal beast was, it moved like his own skin.

“Aetherion” A voice snapped him from his frenzy, stopping him cold. He looked around, noticing the torn bodies scattered across the ground. “You’re getting too far ahead” It wasn’t an observation, it was a reproach.

“Ain’t gettin’ ahead, you lot are just slow” His chest rose and fell, lungs drawing air back in as he steadied himself. He stretched slightly, wiping his hands on the warframe’s metal, hoping the blood wouldn’t stain it forever.

He lingered where he had stopped, allowing himself the grim luxury of stepping among the bodies one by one, draining them, even studying them closely to see where his claws had cut. He wouldn’t deny the morbid fascination in seeing what his weapons could do. Sometimes he wondered if this was what Tenno felt inside their warframes too, unstoppable, or perhaps, more like beasts. Aetherion still couldn’t quite name what he felt, but at least he knew it wasn’t something negative.

The electric hiss warned him before Amir arrived at his side, letting out a groan that was obviously put on for dramatic effect.

“Not all of us are slow”  Aetherion let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head to show how amused he was.

He checked his map, the others were definitely a bit further back, maybe no more than five minutes away, at least he wouldn’t be waiting long. Resting for a moment wouldn’t hurt; sitting on one of the benches in that infested metropolis seemed fitting. Amir seemed hesitant, not because it was dangerous, but because standing still seemed harder for him than fighting.

“Suit yourself. It’s not like anyone else is going to take the seat” the drifter muttered, crossing one leg over the other, leaning back against the machine. The bench creaked quietly, as if complaining the warframe was too heavy for the old wood.

He let himself close his eyes. He couldn’t feel the snow on his real skin, but he could sense it through the borrowed shell . Snowflakes melting on metal, the freezing air burning his nose, that strange feeling of his own body heat melting the snow even though it remained cold, so cold it burned. Silence truly was a luxury in this world, in all worlds. 

Yet Amir interrupted it gently, humming a tune. He opened his eyes, even if the warframe didn’t show it, and looked at Amir, posture betraying a faint annoyance. But it all happened too quickly. 

Part 2

Post by @ghostwolfboy

💬 5  🔁 0  ❤️ 3 · Scars of Steel (2/?) · A little drama! hehehe ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[mothtato]

I saw people doing their drifters as protos of their main frames so i had to do Gareth as his Kullervo

but then the two am brain rot set in so also meet Tombstone; Gareth's warframe counterpart if he ended up a frame rather than a drifter. He's a frame centered around a lot of cc such as grouping and binding with his lasso with his main thing being a pair of exalted gun blades

Also on that tangent if you've got your drifter/operator/fan frames up on art fight this year id love to know! I'd like to hit up a lot of drifters/operators/frames if you've got them

[niansha-lohk]

Can we know a little more of your operator and drifter? I’m new here so I’m reallly curious

Welcome! <3

I've been meaning to make a bigger lore post on them, but this is the perfect time for me to lock in :DD I also have a doc with the full timeline in the works too

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NEYMA.

My Operator, she's pragmatic, and is heavily associated with Lua. She is a protector, always has been really since she was a child due to being the sole caretaker for her little sister with her parents being stretched thin on the Zariman. Neyma actually hides her emotions a lot cause she's got a lot of expectations on her shoulders as Tenno, and also a side effect of her having to "grow up" fast. But she's still a sweet kid who tries her best to look after others, like she's pretend it's whatever, but really she is happy and relived to see people returned back safe because of something she did.

Not talkative, but will engage in deeper conversation about technology and tactics, basically if you spark her special interest, you'll have a very long convo-

She was pretty active during the sentient war, and behaves like a veteran, so she thrives off of routine. She's also an achievement kid, so tends to do things by the book, and is generally the one who is better with Warframes.

Neyma loves her pets, and has an entire kennels worth of Kubrows and Kavats. Very much biased towards Helminth chargers and vulpaphylas, basically all infested dogs. This is the same for Nian as well! ^^

Shies away from kids stuff to seem more mature, she hates being seen as a kid when she's been through so much, it feels demeaning to her. And her not-so-modest collection of floofs and ayatans can vouch for her-

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NIAN.

My Drifter, they are much more idealistic and is very balanced in terms of Sol, Terra, and Lua, though they still associate with Lua more.

Still a protector even as an adult, Nian's care and kindness for people is a bit more out in the open, though it takes a bit of coaxing to really see the more jovial and emotional side. They aren't quick to trust, and they can be a bit cagey due to their traumas with Duviri, so usually they are to themself. They're also a bit of a skeptic and a smart ass, but all in good faith and lack of social skills lol-

They are the gifted child that became a burnout, but they have their times where they remember all the topics they learned when it's presented in front of them. In my headcannon that is what the quiz tablets in Duviri is for Nian, the pieces of knowledge that were in their mind, still trying to remember. This doesn't stop them from being social though, they love small talk and talking to real people for the first time in thousands of years, so pleasant conversation is to be expected! The closer people are with them and the more they get to know them, you'll see that they have a softer side.

They are still as much of a pack rat as they were when they were a kid. They have a decora kind of belt loop with all the little bits and bobs they collected from The New War, Duviri, the Sanctum (Against Loid's judgement-), and 1999!

After never having an actual childhood, their wonder of all the things in the origin system is almost adorable. They love to tinker, many shinies are required to appease them.

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General facts :D

Their name before the void jump incident was Niansha Which is sort of a play on their mother's name, Nishanthi. Both the operator and drifter changed their names but kept it adjacent still.

They were born on mars, this is way before the warframes too, so it was a much more organized civilization and colony.

Their mother was an Archimedean assistant and their father was an engineer, amongst the many tasked to ensure the jump to Tau would actually work.

Their hair is actually naturally orangish-red, but they dye it black.

And that's all the general lore on them!! This ask is getting a lil too long, but I will absolutely be making another post about Nian and Neyma's connection and their dynamic! ^^

[altocat]

i wan fwuit gummy

KADAJ WE TALKED ABOUT THIS

NO SNACKS BEFORE DINNER! NOW SIT DOWN AND EAT YOUR SALISBURY STEAK