#rod fanfic

[monaownsmyass]

Reunion

Book: Ride-or-Die (2)

Pairing: Mona x MC (Ellie Wheeler)

Genre: ANGST (and just some general fluff)

Rating: PG13, Mona has a colourful vocabulary

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: So since we now know what was supposed to happen in Book 2, I HAD to write Mona reuniting with MC again for the first time in 5 years. The idea of them seeing each other after so long, the tension, mhmm! Since I'm working with the bare bones, I'm only guessing how most of the plot was suppose to go down. So if there's any plot holes in my own story, just ignore it :3

I never thought I'd be posting a fic again. And yet, here I am, years later writing for Mona cuz we were ROBBED of Book 2. I feel like I've come full circle cuz my very first fic was for Mona and I'm pretty sure this is gonna be my last. At least for a while. The last fic I posted was the last time I think I properly wrote anything so forgive me if I'm rusty, but anything for my baby Mona <3 Lmk whatcha think of this fic!

Ellie stared unblinkingly at the still face looking back at her from the screen. Her jaw clenched as her mind raced. Five years, it's been five years since she had seen her, five years since she's heard anything about her and there she was. And tomorrow, if everything goes to plan, she'll be right in front of Ellie. She'll actually be there, with her in the same physical space and not the one she had shared with her in her mind over the past half decade.

Just the thought alone was enough to make Ellie want to throw up, either from excitement or nervousness or both, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she had been imagining this moment constantly ever since she last saw her. Ellie always thought about what she would say, what she would do, but she could never quite figure out what that would be. And for the longest time, she thought it wouldn't matter. She thought she would never see her again.

Until now, that is.

Ellie inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. But she never seemed to be able to whenever she looked into those sly brown eyes and at that infuriating smirk on that gorgeous face. It was no different now, apparently.

She slammed her laptop shut. She'll worry about it when she's there.

~.~

Ellie was hyperaware of everything around her. The heat emanating from her coffee into her palms, the espresso machine whirring, the music in the background, the grains of the wooden table.

Suddenly, she heard the shop doorbell ring and her heart fell to her stomach.

She just knew.

Ellie didn't turn to look, she just couldn't bear the weight of it. Instead, she heard, she felt.

She heard the familiar footsteps of boots walking towards her that awoke distant memories. She felt her eyes shut on its own accord. She heard a soft sound of curiosity coming from where the footsteps had stopped. She felt her heart drumming so hard in her chest, she could hear it in her ears. She felt a presence looming over her. She heard a hand slap against the metal backing of the chair across from her.

And then nothing.

Ellie slowly opened her eyes and gulped. When did her throat get so dry?

The first thing she saw was a perfectly manicured hand gripping the chair in front of her that lead up to a familiar fully tattooed arm. She forced her gaze upwards, finding it exceedingly difficult, feeling as if she was fighting against an invisible force, as if the more she dare to look up, the more her own eyes were denying her.

She took in the other hand resting against the waistband of dark pants. She noticed a black tank top covered by a black leather jacket and the way the necklaces worn rested against it. Her breath hitched and her heart stopped when her gaze finally met the one of the woman she had been dreaming of for 5 years now.

And goddamn, was she just as stunning as Ellie had remembered, even more so maybe.

"Mona," she softly breath out as if she was hoping it was true. The name sounded foreign yet familiar against her lips. Oh, how she had missed saying that name.

There Mona was, a hand on her hip and the other propping herself up by the chair, a brow raised and the corner of her lips quirked upwards, as if fighting a smile back. Her pretty brown eyes gazed down deeply into Ellie's and Ellie felt as if she was losing an unspoken uphill battle.

"Well, well, well," Mona whispered and Ellie nearly laughed in relief at being able to listen to her voice again. It was surreal. "If it isn't Ellie fucking Wheeler. Hello, princess."

~.~

The entire situation was so overwhelming for Ellie, she didn't know what to do with herself. She was between a constant push and pull state of fidgety and paralyzed. It was like a dream and a nightmare come true and Ellie wasn't even sure if she wanted to be woken up if it was one.

But it wasn't, and Ellie still wasn't sure what she'd say or do now that she was face to face with the woman that had been haunting her thoughts since she met her.

Ellie took in Mona who was now sitting opposite her. She was leaned back with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Everything about her posture would suggest to Ellie that Mona was being standoffish. The only thing that was making her second guess herself were those damn eyes. Mona made no effort to hide the fact that her eyes were blatantly flickering up and down Ellie's form. They finally settled back on Ellie's and she swore she saw Mona's gaze soften just the tiniest bit. Ellie had no clue if she was assessing her as well or checking her out.

Despite her many psychology classes on body language and facial expressions, she still couldn't read Mona. She never had been able to. It was something that Ellie had appreciated every now and then, she liked that Mona kept her on her toes. But now wasn't one of those times.

"I didn't think you'd come," Ellie blurted out and finally broke the silence, not being able to stand the way Mona was looking at her anymore.

Mona cocked an eyebrow at her and shrugged a little. "It's not everyday I get a letter from a girl I took a bullet for 5 years ago. Had to see for myself." Ellie had no idea how to respond but she didn't need to because almost immediately after, Mona leaned in forward and glowered at her. "How did you find me?"

Mona was so near, Ellie could smell her perfume and she'd be lying if she said it didn't make her a bit heady. Ellie leaned back into her chair, feeling the need to put some space between the two of them. She saw the corners of Mona's lips twitch in a flash as she did.

Unlike Ellie, Mona always could've read Ellie very much easily, probably even a bit too easily.

Ellie shut her eyes tight, trying to think of an easy, gentle way to break the news to Mona. There was no easy, gentle way.

"Look, Mona," she sighed and looked up at her. "I was hoping to warm you up a little before I jump into it but since you asked...," Ellie drifted off and paused for a moment to try and figure out the best way to phrase her next sentence. "I'm working with the FBI and I need your help."

Just as Ellie had predicted, Mona was mad. Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair and leaned in even closer to Ellie, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"What the fuck, Ellie?!" Mona whispered angrily, her voice low. "If you're working with the cops, then you know that I fucking broke out of prison, right? You're basically leading them back to me!"

"Mona, listen," Ellie leaned forward and placed a hand on Mona's, not knowing how else to reassure her. It was a mistake, Ellie's breath hitched being so close to her. Both their eyes flickered down at their hands before meeting each other's again. Mona jaw unclenched just the slightest bit and didn't pull away so Ellie continued. "They agreed to clear your remaining offenses and even your criminal record if you cooperate with them."

Mona finally pulled her hand away and she folded her arms again, leaning back into her seat. Ellie leaned back as well, thankful for a way out. She knew she was on the verge of doing something stupid.

Mona considered what Ellie had told her. "What makes you think I want that? If you're working for the pigs you'd know that I'm still involved."

"I'm working with them, not for them," Ellie corrected. "And from what rumors I heard, your current situation is more of a necessity than a want, it's transactional."

Ellie looked at Mona expectantly. If she was honest, she was hoping Mona would fill in the gaps for her because that was all she knew. She hadn't gotten any details. Instead, Mona asked, "Why are you working with them, anyway?"

"There's a heist crew that Logan was in that obtained list of important informants and the FBI thinks I can help 'cuz I have ties with him."

"And where do I fit into this?" Mona questioned, unamused.

"Your current... involvement... appears to have connections to them, so we need your help to gather intel," Ellie put it plainly, no point sugarcoating it and wrapping it up in a pretty bow, especially since she knew Mona would appreciate the directness more.

"Hm," Mona squinted at Ellie and Ellie tried her best to maintain composure which was proving to be very hard in Mona's presence. "Very bold of you to assume I'd risk my neck by going behind the backs of one of the most dangerous crime families just to helps out a bunch of cops. Very stupid, but very bold too. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or disappointed."

Ellie couldn't help but grin. It was the most Mona-like thing she had said and just for a little while, it felt like old times. She decided to push her luck a little further. "Can you... is it okay if you explain to me why you're with them?"

Mona glared at Ellie and then let out a huff, running her fingers through her hair, clearly frustrated. Ellie just watched in silence, unsure what to make of it.

"After all this time and you still can make me want to talk, it's embarrassing," she mumbled and Ellie had to strain to listen to her. Ellie felt her heartbeat start to pick up again at Mona's words. "I'll make it quick. Escaped prison, cops chased, crime family protect, work for them, safe from cops." She gestured with her hand lazily, explaining with complete disinterest as if she's told this story a million times which was ironic since this was probably the first time she told this to anyone.

"Well, think about it this way," Ellie had offered in response after taking some time to ponder. "If you help the FBI, you'll help bust them and clear your offenses, which means you'll be free, Mona."

Ellie could practically see the gears turning in Mona's head, or more like, she could practically see her weighing out the pros and cons on a scale. Mona's eyes flitted from staring at her table up to meet Ellie's and Ellie forced herself not too look away, daring to challenge Mona to accept her offer.

Mona sighed and unfolded her arms to gesture with her hands. "It's a very tempting offer, believe me."

"But?"

"But there's a reason they're the biggest crime family," Mona said in a hushed yet hurried tone. "If they haven't gotten caught for this long, I doubt me throwing a wrench in their plans and schemes would do jackshit!"

Mona was frustrated, but Ellie could tell it was more so about her situation than at Ellie which kept Ellie at least a little calm for now.

"Not to mention, law enforcement fucking sucks, I don't exactly trust them to catch every single member."

Mona's eyebrows furrowed and her lips were set in a displeased line, the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth prominent with her scowling. Ellie found herself missing it.

"I know, I know you're not their biggest fan and I know what I'm asking of you-"

"NO!" Mona slammed her palm against the table, not loud enough to attract unwanted attention but that didn't stop Ellie from jumping in her seat at her sudden outburst. "I don't think you realise exactly what you're asking me to do, princess," she spat out the nickname venomously and Ellie fought hard not to flinch.

"Mona-"

"Listen, I took a bullet for you, I went to fucking prison for you. You get in touch with me again after all this years only to ask me to die for you." Mona paused and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Ellie watched in silence for a moment, her heart beating a mile a minute in realisation.

"You're right, I didn't think of it like that, I'm sorry." Mona snorted but Ellie continued. "But that's not the only reason I wanted to get in touch with you, I promise."

Mona opened her eyes and looked at Ellie. Ellie could sense she was trying to read her expression, decide if she was being sincere. She was.

It was quiet for a moment.

Mona crossed her legs at the knees and leaned forward. Ellie could see the anger in her expression dissipate into subtle smugness. Mona whispered, "What's the other reason then?"

There it was. Ellie knew Mona knew just from the slight pull of her upper lip and the way she was gazing at her with such intent. Over the past 5 years, Ellie had so much she wanted to say to Mona. Far too much to condense into a one sentence answer, but she tried anyway by saying, "I missed you, Mona."

"After all this time, and you still haven't learnt to save yourself." Mona let out a short, soft chuckle and shook her head. She stood up and tugged at the collars of her jacket, fixing it before shoving her hands in her pockets and turning around.

"Where are you going?" Ellie stood up in alarm, dumbfounded by Mona's actions.

Mona turned to face Ellie again, shrugging slightly. "I have to go, I came here on borrowed time."

"Will you consider it? At least?" Ellie was pleading at this point, but mostly because she knew if Mona said no, this would be the last time she saw her. She was very desperate for it to not be.

"I'll find you," Mona said and started to walk away again.

Ellie sighed softly, relieved that she's got Mona's word that she'll at least hear from her. But Ellie couldn't help herself, she had to ask, she had to know.

"Did you miss me?"

Mona stopped and and turned her head to the side to quickly glance at Ellie at the corner of her eye over her shoulder. She faced head on again and exhaled, as if the question itself exhausted her.

"I haven't learnt either. If I did, I wouldn't be here."

Mona walked away and left Ellie standing there speechless, mind and heart racing.

~~TIME CUT~~

Ellie looked around cautiously as she walked down the dingy back alley. Only a singular, dim streetlamp illuminated the street. Every small sound or movement caused Ellie to whip her head around in it's direction.

Leave it to Mona to pick the most unsavoury, suspicious place at the darkest hour of the night to want to meet up.

All of a sudden, she spotted a car headed in her direction. The headlights so bright, it temporarily blinded Ellie. She would've ran if she didn't catch a glimpse of the familiar purple of the car in the midst of being rendered sightless.

The car stopped right beside her and the door popped open to reveal Mona looking expectedly at her.

"Well, c'mon, get in."

"Mona! You still have your car?"

She rolled her eyes. "Questions later, get in now."

Ellie silently obeyed. As soon as she slammed the door shut, Mona sped off, leaving Ellie clumsily grabbling for her seatbelt. She managed to click it into place before turning to Mona who had a smirk on her face.

Mona looked at ease as always behind the wheel. Leaned back in her seat with one hand on the steering and the other on the shift stick, Mona was definitely in her element. And definitely looked hotter driving than Ellie remembered.

"Not used to the speed anymore, princess?"

"It's been a while," Ellie reminded and looked out the passenger's window, watching the buildings whip past them. "Some things never change though."

Mona drove in silence, not even humming along to the hip-hop music she had playing on the radio. Ellie cleared her throat and decided to speak up. "So, are you accepting the offer?"

"We'll talk later." Mona looked at Ellie briefly before averting her eyes back on the road.

Ellie looked around outside, roughly recognising their surroundings but not exactly being able to place her finger on it.

"Mona, where are we going?"

"You don't remember?" Mona quirked an eyebrow at her as they pull into an open area where a bunch of cars were parked. A video was projected onto a huge display screen right at the front. Ellie's eyes lit up in realisation.

"The drive-in theatre! The one we came to with Mercy Park Crew!"

"The one and only," Mona confirmed as she put her car into park and pulled the hand break up. "Literally."

She pulled the lever of her chair and leaned so far back, she was almost laying down. She raised both hands behind her head and stared at the projection in front of them.

Bewildered at Mona, Ellie's brows furrowed in confusion as she looked at her. "What are you doing? What are we doing?"

"We're watching a movie, duh," Mona replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mona was being difficult, Ellie had enough experience with her to at least know that. And lucky for her, she also had enough experience to know how to annoy Mona into talking.

Mustering up the most gushy and enthusiastic voice she could, she said, "Aww, Monaaaa!" Ellie grabbed Mona's knee and Mona looked at her, with both brows raised, clearly confused and maybe even looking a little weirded out by her sudden change in tone. "If you wanted to take me on a date you could've just said so!"

"Pft! A date?" Mona sputtered, taken aback. "You wish, princess."

"What is it then? Are you feeling sentimental?" Ellie cooed and Mona lightly slapped her hand away, the one that was on her knee.

"Hah! Definitely not."

"It's okay if you are, it's actually so cute of you."

Mona gasped and sat up straight as if it was the most offensive thing to mankind.

"I am not cute," she glared at Ellie and Ellie fought hard to hide her bubbling laughter.

"Then what is it?"

"Fine!" Mona threw her hands up in defeat. "I just wanted to relax before we got down to business but since this is so much more stressful let's just talk now." Mona leaned back against her seat and motioned Ellie to copy her seat position.

Ellie smiled to herself as she adjusted her seat lever. "Why are we leaning back?"

"'Cuz it's less suspicious. Also it's more comfortable."

"So," Ellie turned to face Mona. "Why are we here?"

"Because, we needed a private place to talk in public at 9 p.m. and this was what I thought of. They have eyes and ears everywhere, this is the safest bet." Mona looked at Ellie. "I need to know the exact terms of this agreement before I give my answer."

"Yes, yes, of course," Ellie replied eagerly, hopefully that Mona was considering the offer.

"I will be exempted for all my crimes, correct?"

"Yes."

"And my record will be a clean slate?"

Ellie nodded.

"The leak must be anonymous, the gang won't know the mole was me. And I don't want the FBI to be tailing my every move either."

"Okay, that can be done."

"While working with them, I want the FBI's word that I'm under their protection and I get full immunity. I know it'll get messy. I need all of it in writing."

Ellie saw a flicker of emotions pass Mona's face. They both knew how dangerous this proposition was for Mona. Ellie gentle placed her hand on Mona's thigh and Mona stiffen at the soft contact, not daring to even look at it.

"I'll be with you the whole way, Mona. I promise, I-"

"Don't," Mona interrupted, sounding pained almost. "How many times must I tell you. We don't do promises, we don't do loyalty. It's each man for themselves, if you need to run, you run."

Ellie was quiet, letting out a shaky breath and squeezing Mona's thigh. Mona finally looked down at the contact and winced as if she was hurt, as if she could tell what Ellie was going to say next.

"And yet, you're still here."

Mona stared deep into Ellie's eyes, her gaze so intense it was hypnotising.

"I'll do it," Mona said softly. "I'm in."

Relief washed over her. Ellie smiled a little a nodded. As she did, a strand of hair came loose and fell in her face. As if on reflex, Mona's hand came up to brush the hair away, tucking it behind Ellie's ear. The gentle touch of Mona's fingers against her face made her sigh in contentment. Ellie had missed Mona's touch so much, she thought she could cry. It felt like an oasis after years of being parched.

Ellie thought Mona would pull her hand away, but she didn't. Instead, she let it rest on Ellie's cheek. Mona's warm hand cupped Ellie's cheek and Ellie leaned into it. She closed her eyes, reveling in the comfort and familiarity of it after 5 years. She moved her hand that was resting on Mona's thigh up her wrist, holding Mona's hand there, afraid Mona will move, afraid of missing the contact. But she didn't move. Instead, she whispered her name.

"Ellie."

Ellie's name coming out of Mona's mouth sounded so intimate, so precious. Ellie opened her eyes and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mona staring back at her. She had never seen Mona look at her like that before. She looked soft, conflicted, as if she was fighting back. Ellie's lips parted and she noticed Mona's gaze look down at her mouth.

"Mona."

Ellie breathe her name out slowly, a praise, a hope, a gift. Silently wishing Mona would do what she'd been dreaming of for the past half decade. She was so close to getting what she wanted- no, what she needed. The touch, the gaze, the shallow breathes, it was all too much to handle. Ellie was ready to burst out of her skin, it was all too overwhelming.

"Fuck," Mona cursed, her resolve crumbling. She leaned into Ellie while pulling her closer as well. Their lips met halfway in a gasp and Ellie arms immediately wrapped around Mona's neck, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the nape of her neck. Mona moved her free arm around Ellie's waist and securely held her close.

Ellie could help but whimper at how good it felt to be in Mona's arms again, to be kissing her and holding her and savouring her. She had waited years to be able to do this again and it was beyond what she had hoped. She had forgotten how good Mona felt, she almost laughed at how she ever wondered why no one else could make her feel even a fraction of what Mona did. How could they when Mona made her feel like this.

Their lips moved in tandem and their grips on each other tightened. Even though Ellie had been waiting for so long for this, it was hard to believe any time had even passed between them with how in sync they were with each other.

Mona moaned softly into Ellie's mouth when she grabbed Mona's hair in her fist. Mona reluctantly pulled away and rested her forehead against Ellie's. Their hold on each other never ceasing as they tried to catch their breath.

Ellie felt delirious, she thought she would ascend at any moment. Mona softly brushed her thumb against her cheek. Ellie hummed softly at the touch and turned just the slightest bit to kiss the palm of Mona's hand. Mona sighed.

"I can't believe I'm still here."

#mona my beloved how I miss you #mona x mc #mona rod #mona choices #mona fanfiction #mona fanfic #mona #mona rod2 #ride or die #ride or die 2 #ride or die choices #ride or die 2 choices #rod #rod choices #rod2 #rod2 choices #rod mona #ride or die fanfic #ride or die fanfiction #rod fanfic #rod fanfiction #ride or die 2 fanfic #ride or die 2 fanfiction #rod2 fanfic #rod2 fanfiction #mona x mc fanfic #mona x mc fanfiction #choices #choices: stories you play #pb

[loxenask]

Im doing a Jencer fic

Just saying,,

#tales from the gas station #tftgs #tftgs spencer #tftgs jack #spencer middleton #jack townsend #gas station jack #rod fanfic

[archie-sunshine]

Peacetime(Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)(TF: CYBERVERSE)

SYNOPSIS: Hot Rod is bored during the relative peace that the wall has brought. He comms Soundwave for some fun. Soundwave says Hot Rod can't handle more than a quickie with him. Hot Rod makes an ill advised bet about it. (aka Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)

Word Count: 4,764

TAGS: Soundwave/Hot Rod, overstimulation, humiliation, degradation, frenemies with benefits, rivals with benefits, face fucking, dirty talk, valveplug, denial, teasing

Author's Notes: spiritual successor to the soundrod art I drew earlier this week. please enjoy!

It wasn’t as if peacetime wasn’t needed and loved and wanted on Cybertron. Not at all, really! Who could complain about a world without fighting, who could complain about a world where for the first time in millions of years Hot Rod didn’t really have to watch his back? 

Well… Hot Rod could. Things had slowed down, people were worrying about stuff like infrastructure and public services and reconstruction. Things were going back to normal but it was a hard sell, especially considering the entire populous was comprised of antsy trigger happy veterans who’s ‘normal’ was waiting for the call to arms. The wall certainly didn’t help either. Tensions were cooled between them, especially since the Quinteson incident, but there were still plenty of Autobots who scowled at the concept of just letting the Decepticons be after millions of years of intergalactic war. 

Hot Rod probably should have counted himself in that number, but he had it on good authority that the Decepticons weren’t all the same sharp, frightening cookie cutter shape that some bots painted them as. It still fragged with Hot Rod’s processor that he could be the type to stand up for the honor of a Decepticon, but… not all of his fellow Autobots had the experience that he did. 

All that complex dichotomy aside, the fact was that Hot Rod had gotten a bit fond of some cons. Particularly the inscrutable, obnoxious Soundwave. He didn’t exactly have a name for what he and Soundwave had, but it was fun. It was thrilling.

It was a series of ill advised hookups that technically broke the laws surrounding the ceasefire wall deal, but Hot Rod liked that kind of danger. It was the same reason he kept getting in bed with a bot that could have- and probably should have- killed him a thousand times over: Hot Rod was a thrill seeker. 

And so, as Hot Rod entered his hab unit and the lights flickered on, he was already in the process of comming the other mech. 

HR: Heyyyyyyy

Hot Rod took a seat on his sofa, flicking on his holovid projector and beginning to flick through the channels. He had to have something to keep him occupied while he waited for Soundwave to respond after all.

SW: What do you want.

Curt, annoyed, and curious were all good things for Soundwave to be in Hot Rod’s opinion. They were a good look on him, even over text. 

HR: You free tonite? ;P

He briefly paused his channel surfing on some old rerun of a- now ancient- cybertronian soap opera. 

SW: Maybe. Why?

Hot Rod raised a brow ridge to himself. Maybe? He pondered the best way to continue for a klik. 

HR: Maybe?

SW: I have work to get done.

HR: Sounds boring. You should come visit. 

SW: You gonna make it worth my time?

Hot Rod grinned, reclining into the sofa and kicking his pedes up on the table. Bingo. He fished around for his handheld transponder, fiddling around to get to a camera function. He let his legs fall apart and brushed a tantilizing servo up the edge of his panels as he snapped a picture and sent it off.

HR: I always do ;0

There was a long pause, maybe a few minutes even. Hot Rod kept opening and reopening their comms chat in his processor, willing a new message to appear.

Finally, after what felt like an hour(but was actually 5 kliks), Soundwave responded. 

SW: I’ll be there. 

It was fun to mess around with a partner like Soundwave, usually mechs and femmes alike were falling all over themselves for a piece of his hot speedster frame, but Soundwave played hard to get. It was- again- thrilling. He didn’t get why he was so into it, but he wasn’t about to examine it either. 

*

Hot Rod stared at the door to his unit, attempting to lounge gracefully(and sexily) as he waited for Soundwave to enter. He’d poured two cubes of engex for them to share, the kind that soundwave liked, the really light blue stuff.

The door to the hab slid open. 

“Glad you could make it, how was traffic?” Hot Rod crooned, attempting to look effortlessly relaxed

“You know I always go through the backstreets.” Soundwave said, stepping in and letting the door close behind him. He strolled up to the couch Hot Rod was reclining on and shoved his legs out of his way before sitting down. Hot Rod looked at him indignantly, wrinkling his nose at him. 

Soundwave ignored the look, picking up his cube and turning his faceplate away from Hot Rod to drink. 

“Things all good on your side of the wall, Wavey?” Hot Rod asked, sitting up and trying to recover with a different sexy pose. 

“Don’t act like you care, drink your engex.” He retorted flatly, gesturing at the cube. 

Hot Rod rolled his optics and picked up his own cube. “You’re no fun.”

“That can’t be true, considering you’re the one who keeps bothering me for a quickie.” Soundwave raised a brow ridge at the speedster. 

“Welllllll it doesn’t have to be a quickie, does it?” Hot Rod flirted, starting to sip his engex. “You could have me the whole night.”

Soundwave snorted. “Please. With your stamina? You couldn’t handle more than 2 hours, let alone the whole night.” 

“I could too!” Hot Rod snapped. He took an indignant swig of engex and folded his arms. “I bet I could run circles around you.” 

Soundwave finished his cube, slamming it on the table and finally turning to face Hot Rod. “Bet you can’t.” 

“Well why don’t we find out?” Hot rod sneered, all flirtation melting away in favour of competition. “We’ll make it a real bet. 50 shanix says I can take whatever you throw at me, 4 hours of whatever you can dish out.”

“Whatever I throw at you? You’re playing with fire, Hot Rod.” Soundwave’s voice had lowered a bit, clearly showing his interest. 

“Well thats fine then, I can take the heat.” Hot Rod boasted.

“I don’t want your shanix.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t want shanix.” Soundwave repeated, shifting a bit closer, looming over the other’s frame. “When I prove you wrong, the next 3 times you need a hookup, you’ll drag your sorry aft over the border to my hab unit and beg me to spike you down in person.” 

Hot Rod’s engine flared, heat coming up to his faceplate. “W-Well alright-! And when I run circles around you, uh- um-” Hot Rod wracked his processor for a good enough punishment. “I get to put it in your port next time we do it.” He stuck his servo out with a malicious grin. 

Soundwave shook it, not letting go when Hot Rod tried to pull away. “You’re gonna regret this, Hot Rod.” 

*

Some had called Hot Rod a bit of a nymphomaniac. It was a bit of a harsh word, and not at all true, he thought about and did plenty of things other than interface. Others called him shareware, which was rude, but… not an unfitting title. Everyone knew he got around, which to some more uptight bots would be considered a mark on his character.

Hot Rod just considered it practice. 

He leaned into Soundwave’s servo as it slid down the top of his crest to the back of his helm. Soundwave’s spike was heavy and thick in Hot Rod’s intake, sleek white and smooth on the bottom with blue ridges around the top. He could feel his cheeks distending from the stretch as he bobbed his helm in the larger mech’s lap. His fans had kicked on a few kliks ago, shuddering to life as his frame fought against overheating. He let the tip of his spike rub against the back of his throat, laving his glossa luxuriously against the underside of Soundwave’s shaft. 

He allowed himself a pleased little hip wiggle when the larger bot stifled a moan from the stimulation, which earned him a tighter grip on the helm and an exasperated scoff. “You’re ridiculous.” Soundwave grunted, rocking his pelvis up into Hot Rod’s mouth and making him choke. He just slid his dermas tighter around Soundwave’s spike and pushed himself down harder. He forced back a gag as it passed into his throat, nearly hitting his vocalizer as he began to nestle his nose against the top edge of Soundwave’s lifted modesty panel. He swallowed around him, flicking his optics up to the other mech’s and winking. 

HR: still think you’re gonna win? 

SW: Want me to stop going easy on you?

Their gaze stayed locked on each other, a spark of competitiveness glinting in Hot Rod’s optics. 

HR: Do your worst, big guy.

The comm had barely appeared in their channel before Soundwave shifted his position, rolling Hot Rod over onto his back with his spike still in his mouth and beginning to thrust deep into the autobot’s waiting throat. Hot Rod let out a choked gurgle. His servos flew up to claw at Soundwave’s thighs. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, I know you can take it like a good bot.” He growled out, steadying himself on the arm of the sofa. The rhythmic clank of Soundwave’s hips hitting Hot Rod’s face filled the room. 

Hot Rod’s optics flickered and thinned out as his fans roared. He could feel his frame shuddering. He was so desperately wet and strained behind his panels he thought he might die. He could feel the pings in his processor demanding him to relieve the pressure, demanding he open his panels and let his array breathe. 

Soundwave slammed in particularly hard, hitting the back of his throat. Hot Rod let out a muffled whine,  his thighs quivering as he fought to keep his throat from spasming. He began to open his panels, hoping to give himself just the barest amount of relief.

A servo jammed down between the gaps between Hot Rod’s panel and abdominal plating, holding his modesty panel shut. Hot Rod’s back arched. A gurgling wail escaped his vocalizer, drowned in intake lubricant. “Ah- Don’t think so~...” Soundwave chuckled, keeping his spike hilted in the speedster’s throat. “You wanna last, don’t you?” 

“Mm-Mghhf!” Hot Rod growled, squirming under the bigger bot. He went to bite down, finding Soundwave’s other servo coming down to jam a thumb between his jaws to keep him open. 

“If I knew you were gonna be this much of a mess,  I’d have asked for more from you.” He taunted, beginning to grind his hips into his throat again. “Keep those panels shut, got it?” 

“Mhhn…!” Hot Rod whimpered, offlining his optics as he willed his modesty panel shut. 

“Good bot… see thats the nice thing about you autobots.” Soundwave grunted, once again beginning to jackhammer into Hot Rod’s throat. “You always do what you’re told.” 

Hot Rod growled indignantly, hoping to sound intimidating and angry. It came out more like a gurgle, spittle bubbling around the edges of his intake. 

“You can’t help it, can you? It’s in your programing, any big bad mech could walk up to you and if he told you to jump you’d ask how high.” He laughed raspily, pulling out almost all the way. 

He watched Hot Rod’s chassis heave and quiver for a moment, trying to get his frame under control. He watched the speedster take a long, heavy in vent, waited until it was about to leave him, then jammed his spike back home. 

Soundwave savoured the desperate choking noise that eked out of Hot Rod’s throat. 

Hot Rod wheezed. His frame felt taught and overheated, processor fuzzy with pings warning him of the stress on his throat and jaw, the strain of his fans, and again, begging, PLEADING for him to open his panels. His digits weakly gripped at Soundwave’s plating one last time before limply petting at the metal there. His frame went pliant and limp underneath him. 

Soundwave laughed to himself breathily, slowing to a halt and carefully drawing his spike out of Hot Rod’s intake. A gush of prefluid and saliva splattered across Hot Rod’s chest. The autobot coughed weakly, glaring ineffectually up at Soundwave. 

“Want me to go back to being easy on you, Roddy?” He taunted, bringing a servo down to stroke slowly at his own spike. 

“N-No chance…” Hot Rod growled hoarsely, sitting up and wiping at his face with the back of his servo. 

“Good bot. Let’s get you to the berth then.” Hot Rod couldn’t get a word in edgewise before he was being lifted bodily off the sofa and flung over Soundwave’s shoulder. 

Hot Rod cycled his vocalizer, coughing again and continuing to wipe his dermas. Embarrassment nibbled at the back of his mind at his messiness. He wanted to flip the positions, try pistoning into Soundwave’s- well if he had an intake he’d frag it silly, see how he liked it. Hot Rod was broken out of his stewing anger by the sound of Soundwave snickering to himself. 

“What-!” Hot Rod snapped, the question cut off as Soundwave drew a digit up the edge of his panels. Oh no. 

“You’re leaking, Hot Rod.” Soundwave sing-songed. He gathered the prefluid up between his digits and rubbed them together absently as he unceremoniously dumped Hot Rod onto his berth. 

The speedster quickly squeezed his legs together around his panels, trying to hide his eagerness. He winced at the feeling, rivulets of slick prefluid smearing against his plating. Soundwave looked down at him, amusement clear across his borderline unreadable faceplate. 

“Shut up…” Hot Rod muttered. 

“You shouldn’t have made the bet.” He chuckled, reaching forwards and effortlessly knocking Hot Rod’s legs apart. He stood between his knees, slowly smoothing his servos over Hot Rod’s armour. “Nice paint job, you buff it before I got here?”

“Pfft… no, you’re not worth the trouble..” Hot Rod rolled his optics. For the record he had shined his armour a bit before Soundwave got there, but that wasn’t even for him! It was… y’know, for someone else.

“Oh I’m not worth the trouble?” Soundwave arced a brow ridge. “So who were you thinking about that made this happen, huh?” Hot Rod hissed as Soundwave knocked two of his knuckles on his panels, optics fizzing and fritzing as his processor produced yet another urgent pressure warning for his array. It was starting to hurt, he could feel his array hot with energon, mashed against the back of the panel. 

“H-hhn- S-soundwave-” He gritted out, clenching his fists. 

Soundwave leaned down to whisper in his audial. “I dunno, Hot Rod, I think this was all me right here…” Hot Rod’s invent punched out of him in a surprised moan when Soundwave ground the heel of his palm against his panels. He dimly felt his processor ping another warning. His engine revved loudly as he arched his back, helm clanging against the berth. 

“But if you’re so sure it wasn’t we can call off this bet right now, call it a draw, let you get your valve pounded out by some other mech, huh?” Soundwave crooned. Steam poured out of Hot Rod’s dermas. 

“N-No-!” He whined out too quickly, his face suddenly even hotter with shame. He went to dismiss his needy beg,“I- hhahhh-” The words fell apart in his vocalizer. His jaw dropped open and his optics went lidded. He ground his hips up, his array burning as Soundwave pressed his modesty panel down against the soft protoform with two digits, slowly moving the panel in little circles. “Ggghh- P-please- Primus- frag- j-ju-just lemme open- S-Soundwave-!” He babbled, gripping at the bigger mech’s sides desperately. 

“Aw… Hot Rod, are you saying… you can’t… take it…” Soundwave drew his words out slowly, venting steam into Hot Rod’s audial. 

“N-no- I can- ah- I’m- Hhuaahh- I’m f-fine- I haven’t evennNnnNn gotten ss-st-started!” He tried to boast, even through the embarrassing moans that he was letting out. Finally Soundwave let up, and Hot Rod went limp against the berth, fans stuttering to vent off excess heat. 

Soundwave leaned back and folded his arms, looking down at the autobot as he shuddered and whined. Hot Rod tried to look aloof and fine, even with the coolant already beading on his brow and the way his frame was quivering like a leaf. 

“S-...See? I’m just fine… completely normal.” Hot Rod panted out, giving Soundwave a shaky smirk. 

“Alright. Open up.” Soundwave ordered, flicking his panels one last time as Hot Rod jolted and glared at him. Hot Rod offlined his optics, body shuddering as he finally opened his panels. He felt embarrassment, hot and thick, gathering in his tanks. His spike shot out of it’s casing like a rocket, already pulsing and drenched in prefluid. His valve was no different, puffy and needy, his anterior node peeking between the plush lips. He was completely soaked, so much so that a puddle of the stuff splattered out onto his berth as his panels tucked away. 

Hot Rod bit his glossa to keep from howling as Soundwave drew a digit up through his lips, over his node, and up the underside of his twitching spike. “Primus you’re easy. Can’t believe you got off this much on me fragging your throat. Maybe I should do it more.” 

“Not on your life- n-not after I win-” Hot Rod taunted feebly. “You won’t be able to walk right for a week when I get done with you-O-OUH-” 

“You’re cuter when you stop talking so much.” Soundwave sighed, rocking his fingers up to rub at the front two calipers of Hot Rod’s valve. He drew his fingers apart, mapping the edges of his yielding hole as he brought them down and together along the edges. 

He pulled his servo back, lifting them to Hot Rod’s waiting intake and jamming the two slick digits in. Hot Rod wined, saliva dripping from his dermas as Soundwave mashed the flavour of his own prefluid into his glossa.

“That’s enough foreplay, don’t you think?” Soundwave teased, cocking his head playfully. 

*

Hot Rod could feel his legs quaking. He felt like he was going to break his dentas from how hard he was gritting them. His fans felt like they were on the verge of melting under their own heat. 

Soundwave stroked his servo up Hot Rod’s spike again, squeezing just enough to milk out another dribble of prefluid. He could feel every burst of steam that escaped the bigger mech’s vents, condensation gathering against the side of the speedster’s helm. He could feel how stretched he was around the decepticon’s spike, but Soundwave refused to move, leaving him impaled on it to suffer as he gritted back his moans. 

“You know, I’m not on this side of the wall often, but don’t worry, I know all about the kind of reputation you have… I hear you pick up so many mechs you might as well be a taxi service..” Soundwave murmured in his audial, spreading his digits over the head of Hot Rod’s spike and teasing the edges. “How many of them treat you like this, huh?” 

“Nnn-N…None-!” Hot Rod gritted out, offlining his optics to focus on venting the heat and not immediately crumbling to a pleading mess. “T-they’re all act-tually NICE to mm-mme!” His voice stuttered as Soundwave drew his digits up again, teasing his slit and massaging the shaft lightly. 

“Thats funny, I didn’t think anyone had the time to be nice to a nasty little piece of shareware like you…” Soundwave growled, slowly grinding his hips up to push against Hot Rod’s soft protoform. Hot Rod bit his derma tightly, clenching his digits around Soundwave’s thighs. That taunt made his processor spin. “They usually use their pretty little valves and toss them aside. Only difference between you and some street walking whore is that you're persistent.” 

Hot Rod let out a moan, finally opening his mouth with a burst of steam. He grit his dentas back together, rolling his hips into Soundwave’s palm as he began to stroke his shaft again. 

“I thought you’d move on after our little hookup but you're obsessed… they say not to humour animals like you so they don’t follow you home.” Soundwave growled, bringing his free hand up to grip possessively at his chassis. Hot Rod keened weakly at the insult, his faceplate flushed bright pink and hot with energon. “But you can’t help it can you? You love it, you love this spike, don’t you?” 

Hot Rod mewled as Soundwave pinched at the base of his spike, rubbing his thumb across his anterior node. “S.. suh- Soundwave-” He gasped, optics sparking. 

“Go on, say it…” Soundwave prompted, stroking his hand up his chassis and taking hold of Hot Rod’s chin. “Tell me how you love it, Roddy…” 

“I- hhhnm..” He moaned. His optics flickered. He was just being unfair now, rubbing at his node like that while he began to gently thrust up into his valve. “I- l��love it-” He huffed out under his breath.

“What was that? Come on, you can do better than that…” Soundwave teased, rubbing his middle two digits against his anterior node while his thumb came around to stroke the base of his spike. He drew his own spike back, slamming it back into Hot Rod’s valve. 

It was like he’d broken something. “I-I LOVE IT!! F-frag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” He wailed out, spittle flying from his dermas and across Soundwave’s hand. “I love it- I-I love it ff-fraaaag, primus- please- I- Ohhh s-slaaaggg…!!” His voice bounced pathetically as Soundwave began to thrust up into him. He could feel his spike bobbing in Soundwave’s grip, now squeezed tight at the base. “I’m aa-aallyours, nnhh- nomore- ah- no more s-shareware- f-frag- I’m all yours-!” Hot Rod babbled deliriously. 

Soundwave chuckled in his audial, before speeding up his servo, his spike suddenly beginning to vibrate. To say Hot Rod screamed was an understatement. It sounded like his vocalizer was being shredded, glitching and fritzing and leaping in tone as overload washed through his frame. He thought he might die, his body shaking as he rode out the sensations that refused to let up. Every bit of his wiring tingled with lightning, every ounce of his frame wracked with pleasure. He felt another burst of steam flush over his audial.

“Loser.” Soundwave whispered.

And that was it. Hot rod arched his back, clanking his helm hard against Soundwave’s shoulder as his transfluid splattered across the floor and Soundwave’s hand. His valve cycled down tightly around Soundwave’s spike, pulsing and throbbing. He was distantly aware he was making some pretty unflattering noises, but more than that he couldn’t even see past the cloud of white that overtook his optics. He jerked and crackled, steaming with spent charge as he finished and went limp against the larger mech’s chassis. 

He was ebbing into an early recharge when he felt Soundwave’s servos close around his hips. He snapped back to full consciousness as he felt him swing his frame around until Hot Rod was face down on the berth. 

“Bwuh-?” Hot Rod moaned intelligently. 

“Oh, I thought you could take a full four hours, Roddy!” Soundwave feigned surprise, pulling his spike back until he was teasing the oversensitive node with his tip. “And besides, you still owe me at least one overload.” 

Hot Rod keened as Soundwave slid back in and began hammering into his valve. “Nnnhh-! Oooohhhh Primussss…” He whined, vocalizer shot and hoarse. “I- ah- s-Soundwave I caaan’t!”

“Oh you can’t?” He felt a servo slide from his hips up to his spoiler. Soundwave gripped the delicate bit of metal tightly, using it as leverage to slam Hot Rod’s hips against his. “I thought you said-” there was a quiet fizzle before Hot Rod’s own voice repeated back from Soundwave’s speaker. “I could run circles around you- Didn’t you say that Roddy?” 

Hot Rod let his jaw hang open, processor filled with warnings and popups as overstimulation forced his spike to stiffen. “Nn- Nuh uhh..” He moaned. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell? How about this one?” Soundwave adjusted his grip, hooking an arm under Hot Rod’s chin and pulling him up into a headlock. All the while his hips jackhammered away. He could already feel the blue paint transfers forming on his aft. “-ag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” Hot Rod keened in humiliation at his own voice. “That sounds more like you, doesn’t it, shareware?”

“S-soundwaaave- PLEASE-!” Hot Rod wailed. “I C-CAN’T!” 

“I need one last thing from you, Roddy…” Soundwave crooned. Hot Rod could feel his spike twitching inside him, nearing overload. 

“U-uhuhh??” Hot Rod whimpered, clawing weakly at Soundwave’s arms. 

“Admit you’re a big stupid loser.” Soundwave snickered, snapping his hips forwards and making Hot Rod’s optics fizzle. 

A lance of heat shot through Hot Rod’s already overheated form, his body suddenly tense, strung tight with need. Why was all of this doing this to him? He was being… so cruel… “Nn-gguhh-! C-Come onn-!” He whined out. 

“Say it, tell me what a big stupid loser you are!” Soundwave cackled, reaching a servo down to begin jerking Hot Rod’s spent spike. 

“Oh-OH-OH PRIMUS-” Hot Rod wailed. “I’M A BIG S-STUPID LOSER!! FRAGG-F-FRAG- I’M AN IDIOT FOR T-TUH-TAKING THAT BETTT!!” 

Soundwave growled in his audial, pounding his spike in one last time before Hot Rod could feel a gush of transfluid hit his ceiling node. 

He felt his vision white out again as his frame rocked through a second, more painful overload. He felt his processor short and then empty, his optics forcibly offlined again. 

His frame jerked and spasmed weakly until finally Soundwave mercifully pulled out. To say the gush of transfluid that coated Hot Rod’s thighs was embarrassing was an understatement. It was like a fragging waterfall. 

And to make it worse, Soundwave just unceremoniously dropped him on the berth, only adjusting him long enough to make sure he didn’t fall off before beginning to pace around the room. He was making haughty flexing gestures, playing his own personal victory music as he gloated. 

“C-c’mon I didn’t do that bad-!” Hot rod panted, lifting his quivering legs up onto the recharge slab. Without even looking at him, Soundwave flexed over his shoulder, conveniently pointing at the clock on Hot Rod’s berthroom wall. 

Hot Rod paled. “N-no, that can’t be right.”

“Not even an hour and a half, barely an hour and fifteen.” Soundwave confirmed. He did a nasty little turn, waggling his shoulders as he remixed Hot Rod’s words back at him. “C-c-c-c-could run circles arou-ou-OHH PRIMUS!”

“QUIT IT!” Hot Rod shouted, faceplate flaring with embarrassment. 

“-BIG STUPID L-L-L-LOSER!” Soundwave parroted at him, continuing his victory dance. Hot Rod buried his face in his servos, shouting in agony at the embarrassment. 

He felt Soundwave eventually sit on the edge of the berth, shoving him a bit out of his way as he climbed up to relax. He let his victory music die down as he folded his servos behind his helm. 

There was a long klik of quiet between them.

“... you don’t really think of me like that, yeah?” Hot Rod asked meekly. Soundwave raised a brow ridge. Hot Rod Cycled his vocalizer. “Like an annoying animal that followed you home.” He clarified. 

Soundwave glanced away. “... No. You’re not like that.” He muttered. 

“So what am I like?” Hot Rod probed. 

“Tight, wet, and easy.” Soundwave said matter of factly. Hot Rod punched his arm, scoffing and rolling his optics. 

“You’re the worst.” Hot rod grumbled. “I don’t even know why I invite you over.”

“Invite is putting a bit of a slant on it.” Soundwave mused. “I didn’t know begging for spike was an invitation.”

“Ha Ha.” Hot Rod said flatly, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Now shut up I’m trying to recharge.” 

“Oh yeah? I’ll join you then.” Soundwave said. 

“What- No you’ve gotta go-” Hot Rod started, before Soundwave reached over with one harm and pulled him up tight against his frame. He rolled over and squeezed, holding him like a teddy bear. Hot Rod went pink, optics wide and blinking in confusion. 

“Night Roddy.” Soundwave said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah.. uh… Night Wavey.” Hot Rod mumbled. 

Hot Rod offlined his optics, trying to sink into recharge without thinking about how tightly he was pressed against the ‘con. If he wanted he could easily kill him right now, he was already pinned. 

Hot Rod let out a long, quiet sigh, leaning into Soundwave’s embrace. 

Primus, he was glad it was peacetime. 

#transformers fanfic #transformers cyberverse #tf cyberverse #soundrod #soundwave #hot rod #cyberverse soundwave #cyberverse hotrod #transformers #my art #my fic #smut #valveplug

[estelian-01]

ALRIGHT! New art for @needfantasticstories series “Blood and Blade” for chapter 7!! If you haven’t gone and read this series yet I highly recommend it!!!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #estelian draws #lu #lu art #lu legend #lu fanfiction #lu fanart #digital drawing #digital art #digital illustration #fire rod #downfall duo #yiga clan #fanart #fanfic

[lets-try-some-writing]

Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

Based off this post. Enjoy this short little thing.

Many times the Matrix was given, and many times its bearers writhed in agony at its touch. The priests told them they were worthy.

But Optimus knows he is not.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The priests always said that he was worthy. Like every Prime before him, Optimus's frame forever ached with the weight of the holy relic he bore. Fire leapt in his fuel lines. His hydraulics burned with exertion that he had done nothing to earn. Every waking moment was a form of torture as the relic within him made its opinion quite clear.

He was not worthy.

━━━━━━

"Your station is the most holy on all of Cybertron. Bear this weight with pride." The priests smiled as he passed, gilded in gold and draped in fine cloths. The people cheered as they saw him step out of the Citadel. He despised it.

They did not know the pain that came from carrying the relic within him. They did not know that just like every single Prime who came before him, he was not intended for this station.

"Rise, Optimus Prime." The head priest blessed him as he stood before the masses. The Matrix burned within his spark chamber, reminding him that he did not belong.

"Glory to the Empire!" The people shouted in joy. Optimus remained still, his battlemask ever present as he watched the celebration. Whispers spoke in the back of his mind, murmurs offering wisdom even as his spark flared in quiet agony.

The price he paid for divine knowledge was high. Such was the consequence of imposing on Primus's most holy.

━━━━━━

"You make an excellent Prime." Ratchet smiled as Optimus passed by. The doctor affixed his brooch to his cape, and while the act was tender, the Matrix thrummed in warning. If his corrupted form was to taint the divinity of the Primes, he was to have no joy.

"Now we can make some real change!" Ironhide exclaimed with glee as he patted Optimus on the back. Optimus nodded, but he did not smile. He was not allowed to smile. The Matrix was clear.

Every decision he made was done with agony clouding his thoughts. He learned to stop twitching when the Matrix caused his nerves to shoot with pain. He quickly silenced his instinctual cries when his plating felt so tight around him that he might suffocate.

"You alright Prime?" Jazz asked after one long cycle of legislation discussion. Optimus said nothing. Voicing his pain would bring only suffering to those around him.

"Of course." He answered simply. Jazz didn't believe him. No one did.

━━━━━━

"The Decepticons have turned Kaon into a fortress. It won't be long until they march on Tarn too." Prowl frowned as he hunched over a map. Optimus stood still, his vision hazy as ghostly forms surrounded him. Their glares were so intense that he couldn't help the way his plating flared.

"You are not worthy." They whispered as Optimus pointed out a location on the map, the knowledge of his unworthy predecessors guiding his thoughts.

The forms of the old gods pressed up against him, their ghostly frames burning everywhere they touched. The only ones who did not harm him where those who shared his fate. Countless presences wrapping around him and shielding him from the wrath of the ancient horrors that denied him the holy rank he had been forced to bear.

"Send our forces to the northern border and prepare for war. Cybertron will not fall." The ghostly optics never left him as he made his declaration. They held no love for him.

━━━━━━

"Sir, we need you." Ultra Magnus reached out, touching Optimus's shoulder as he looked out over the remains of the burning city of Rodion. It had all happened so fast. The flames of war engulfed their world before he had the chance to react.

"Please Prime, guide us." His Council begged, pleading with what they saw as the most holy for salvation. Optimus had nothing to give. The Matrix denied him. He could give no blessings or assurances.

"Optimus, what are we going to do?" One by one his companions came to him for comfort. Optimus's spark burned with righteous fury every time he offered another battle plan instead of some sort of prophecy, a promise of peace.

His frame forever burned. The Matrix cursed him, but the people needed him.

He would make himself worthy, if only to give his people something to cling to.

━━━━━━

"Energon shortages are increasing. This war is devastating the planet." Perceptor noted clinically. The rest of the war council grew grim. They knew how far their people had fallen. Centuries of war were killing their world and they all knew it.

"If a true Prime had been chosen, this would have never come to pass." The old gods whispered, their digits digging under his plating and setting his circuits alight with agony. Optimus did not react. He had long learned to remain silent when the Matrix saw fit to punish him for his hubris.

How a mortal could have ever dreamed of carrying the Matrix was beyond him. And yet, he had to be worthy. Whatever the Matrix said, his people needed him. Perhaps he was not a proper Prime, but he was all that remained.

He would tear himself apart to be worthy of the mantle he bore.

━━━━━━

"Optimus, your frame is falling to pieces! You need to rest!" Ratchet demanded as Optimus stood watch. His digits were shaky, as was now his regular state of being. His plating was cracked, his hydraulics were weakened, his optics strained more with every passing cycle. Already he had been forced to permanently wear his mask just to hide his eternal frown. It hurt too much to pretend anymore. Such was the curse of his station.

The longer he stood in the place of a divine, the more he deteriorated. All those who came before him fell this way. Optimus merely endured because he had to.

"Pride shall be your downfall oh foolish mortal." Their whispers forever haunted his audials. He could hardly recharge anymore. And yet, while Megatron still reigned, he could not falter.

"Orion, please, this has got to stop." Jazz pleaded with him as they prepared to leave Cybertron. He wasn't sure if Jazz meant the war or his increasing distance from his troops. Optimus wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He had to be worthy... there was no other choice.

━━━━━━

"Prime." Megatron met his gaze, and Optimus returned it. What was the use in fighting anymore? After so very long, they had new concerns. Cybertron needed to be restored. Their war was irrelevant.

"Let us get this over with." Optimus murmured as the words of the Matrix drowned out all else. He wished it could all end.

His frame was battered and he had not recharged properly in millennia. His life was one of pain. The Matrix never allowed him a moment's rest, not while he defiled it with his very existence. Over and over it murmured-

"You are not worthy."

He knew it, and he believed it.

━━━━━━

"Sup OP!" Hot Rod held out his first, an Earth custom that he had picked up from Primus knows where. Optimus stalled as the eternal whispers quieted. Hot Rod tilted his helm in confusion as Optimus reached up with shaky digits to wipe at his face.

It didn't hurt anymore.

"You are worthy." His voice was breathless as his knees felt weak. Megatron came to support him as Optimus struggled to stand upright. The pain had begun to fade. The Matrix sang with joy as he set his gaze upon the warrior before him.

"Prime, you alright?" Hot Rod nervously came forward, unsure how to act. Optimus retracted his mask. Those gathered gasped as Optimus dropped to a knee, a smile on his face.

"You are worthy." He repeated, echoing the words of the gods within him.

"What? I don't get it? What's going on?" Optimus continued to smile as the Matrix pulsed within him. He knew what it desired and he had no interest in denying it. Soon, very soon.

Soon he would not need to be worthy.

━━━━━━

Vorns came and went. Optimus endured the pain. Hot Rod needed more time. He was not prepared for his station, not yet. The Matrix flared every time he approached the warrior, prodding but not demanding, not yet.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, the time had come.

"Hot Rod, will you accept this station?" Optimus asked, and the warrior before him paused. The mecha gathered around paused in their steps, dropping whatever they were doing to stare. Optimus had come from nowhere. He could see why they were concerned.

However, he could not wait any longer. Not when salvation stood before him.

"I don't understand." Hot Rod stared in confusion. Optimus smiled.

"You will. For unlike me... you are worthy." His chest plating parted, the Matrix shone. For one in his functioning, Optimus felt its approval. This was the correct choice.

The relic tore away from him, and Optimus fell to a knee as he caught it and held it out to the mech before him. The Matrix burned his servos as he touched it, but the holy fire merely served to have him shake. His freedom stood before him.

Hot Rod reached out, his hesitation obvious up until he touched the relic. A smile spread across his face. He looked as though he had found a piece of himself long lost. Optimus smiled alongside him as the Matrix finally found its Prime.

"Rise, Rodimus Prime." A new Prime stood before him, holy flame his to command. Optimus relished in the flames that whipped across his plating. They burned, but not as the Matrix had tormented him for so long.

He was free.

He was not worthy.

But he did not need to be.

#transformers #maccadam #optimus prime #hot rod #rodimus prime #the matrix of leadership #transformers fanfic #the matrix is an absolute glitch #religious symbolism #transformers idw

[halfghostwriter]

“You’re listening to Wraith Radio, your number one link to the living realm. I’m your host, the wandering ghost, Ellie Phantom. This week, we’re taking a tour of the cursed and creepy Gotham City. Longtime listeners will note that this place is nearly impossible to get into for us uninvited specters and spirits, but even longer time listeners will know my fun little method for getting around anti-ghost wards. That’s right, dear listeners, I’ve been playing human, and let me tell you, it may have been the best decision I’ve ever made.

Now, you all know how bored I can get playing human, what with the whole ‘being bad at being alive’ thing. I spend way too much time trying to remember things like how far a human body should be able to bend or how fast a heartbeat should go to have any real fun in my human form. In my defense, it’s not my fault my vital organs don’t work the way they should, that’s on the evil billionaire who made me. But anyway, I’m wandering through this place called Park Row, trying to practice breathing and blinking without needing to think about it, when all of a sudden this group of humans come out of nowhere, shooting each other.

Well, I love a good fight as much as the next ghost, so I get closer to them, try to see who’s on who’s side, who wants to put a bullet in who, when one of them grabs me and puts a gun to my head. So now there’s all this shouting, some threats get yelled out, and I’m thinking, ‘man… I am killing it with this human disguise!’ And it’s true, I was! They really thought I would die to a bullet! So I’m getting ready to phase out of this guy’s grip, maybe rough him up a little, when I see a bullet go straight through his arm. The guy drops me, and suddenly I’m hooked under this other guy’s arm, being thrown around like a potato sack.

And this is where it gets good. Because see, as fucked as my biology may be, I do have a damn good ghost sense. And this guy? He was about as ghost as any undead could be. Yeah, you heard me right, listener. The rumors are true. Gotham, as inhospitable it can be to any and all unwanted ghosts, does in fact have an undead population. Now, that’d be incredible on its own, but this guy? Folks, this guy was fucked. Up. You know that feeling you get when someone nearby gets punched in their core? That real quick ‘oh shit I gotta help this guy before they cease to exist’ feeling? Think that, but constant. Like this guy should be in so much unbelievable pain. And he’s throwing me around like I weigh nothing.

So I’m kind of freaking out, and I look up to ask this guy if he’s okay, and. Guys. You’re not gonna believe this. It was the Red Hood. He’s an undead. I know! It’s insane!

So he throws me to the side, kinda blocking me with his body while he’s shooting these people, and I think he told me to run at some point, but I’ll be honest, my brain just kinda stopped. Cause I’m not thinking about the fight anymore, now I’m thinking ‘holy shit, I need to get this guy to a doctor.’ I was actually in the process of starting to ask when one of the other guys’ bullets grazed me. So I decided against it.

Instead, I took out one of my spare inter-realm radios from my bag— always good to keep an extra in case the first gets destroyed— and one of the flyers for Wraith Radio with the airtime on it, and I snuck it into his pocket and disappeared.

And now, here we are, live on the radio, with— hopefully— Red Hood tuning in. So here we go: Red Hood, I am offering to bring you to the ghost zone doctors to get your core fixed. All I want in return is either an interview or a tour of your haunt, whichever you’re more comfortable with. You helped me out, stopping those guys from shooting me. Granted I would’ve been fine if they shot me, but you didn’t know that, so it still counts as a massive favor. I’m not gonna force you, obviously, but coming from someone whose unstable core almost melted her to death, I really think you should come with me. I doubt you remember much about the afterlife, what with the whole ‘being revived’ thing, but trust me when I say that getting an offer to go to this place as a human is rare, and probably won’t happen again. I will be waiting tomorrow at noon at the same place I was yesterday, hopefully not surrounded by people who wanna shoot me this time. Cool?

Anyway, back to talking about the city—”

————————

Jason stared at the glowing radio. He genuinely couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He remembered that girl, she was so scrawny that she looked like she could keel over at any minute. And apparently, she was some… horror radio show host? Sure, she pegged him as dead, but she probably said that about every interesting person she talked about on her show. And now she was going back to the same place she almost got shot? This kid was gonna get herself killed. Looks like he was going to have to talk some sense into her.

Part 2

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #danielle phantom #jason todd #thought it’d be cool if Ellie decided to share stories of her travels with other ghosts #she has a small rod that works as an ectoplasm-powered radio tower #she just gets to someplace high and starts broadcasting #if anyone wants to add onto this please do #wraith radio

[ickysmelly]

when u have a bad night just draw u n ur fav with friendship braclets </33

#art #ickyarts #self love is #letting urself stylize #i couldnt be assed to make the fishing rod any better #naughty bear game #naughty bear #self insert #i pass out for #several days now #worst part about this #is idk if #my feelings toward this are platonic or romantic #cause #sometimes my feelings gradually change #it started platonic i swear /ref #then i read the fanfics #n now im swaying #which btw #still on the high of #my fav fanfic writer following me #nearly threw up /j #anyway #might kiss a bear !!

[zyanova]

Happy birthday, love(?) Dad.

(@decepticonsuggestionbox will more fanart make you write more chapters???)

#I've had this stupid comic idea sitting in my brain for a long time #zya using colored pencils?! no way #violation fic #<- everyone reading tags go read it please it's on dsb's ao3 #also join the fanclub server #I'm sure there's a link somewhere on one of our blogs #transformers #tf #tf fanfic #tf fanart #sunstorm #tf sunstorm #rodimus #hot rod #rodimus prime #what version of rodders did I draw? yes. #I tried to erase the pencil underneath the words too soon so some of the ink smudged 😔 #clp art #art #traditional drawing #traditional art #this was supposed to be more ship art but I forgot

[bean-pole-art]

Can you do more Soundrod please?

oh dear anon, I have so many SoundRod fics planned for the future! I am rn 3k into a fic I'll post on my bday 💖

and though it's my fave, not only in Cyberverse! I have plans for G1, TFA rewrite, Earthspark AU, maybe Shattered Glass,, SoundRod in love in each universe 💙❤

but for now catch this double drabble:

Sometimes, it seemed unbelievable.

Laying in their shared berth, sharing whispers and secrets underneath the starry skies, as Soundwave pressed his revealed derma all over his heated chassis. All while Hot Rod lost himself in the affections and stories he told him. No matter what the subject was, Soundwave eagerly awaited each new word of his.

Maybe several vorns ago, he wouldn’t believe to see Soundwave as such. Yet as the softness of his lover prevailed, Hot Rod’s vocalizer sighed satisfyingly. After all, if it wasn’t for himself, would Soundwave ever rise against the enemy and save Cybertron?

Deep down inside, Hot Rod knew he would. He always saw that buried kindness within him. All that was needed was the final push to make him understand. When Soundwave accepted it, the whole world sang with him.

There was something about knowing that he was not only the weakness but also the strength of one of the toughest mechs around. That not the whole Cybertron mattered as much as Hot Rod did to him. As the breem struck, Soundwave didn’t hide. He chose love. Then never backed away.

Right there and then, Hot Rod’s spark knew that Soundwave was the one.

#transformers #maccadam #soundrod #soundwave #hot rod #tf hot rod #cyberverse #transformers cyberverse #drabble #fanfic #ask #ed's fics #cyberverse good ending btw

[loxenask]

HEY EVERYONE, I HAVE A PERSONAL BLOG NOW!! Is rodrizzz.tumblr.com

Thats it, love yall!

#i love you guys #rod #rod text #rod fanfic #rod fanart #rod blog #rod art

[mothcabinet]

Listen. Smut is cool and all but I NEED DAD OPTIMUS AND SON BUMBLEBEE FICS I NEED FOUND FAMILY TO BE ABLE TO SLUMBER IN THESE DARK AND COLD TIMES.

I need hurt/comfort with a dash of the most devastating angst please <//3

its for my well-being

I wasn’t shown love as a child

THE GIF IS A JOKE-

#tf mirage #tf headcanons #tf rescue bots #tf blades #tf prime #tf ratchet #tf rotb #tf bumblebee #tf optimus prime #tfp #tf bayverse #tf hound #tf hot rod #tf bulkhead #tf arcee #tf wheeljack #tf fanfic

[kovacs-of-courage]

Eclipse AU(Tldr at bottom of post_

So I made a modern-sort of percy jackson inspired AU for Linked Universe, I think it's fun to write! I hope other people enjoy it. Here's my weird rough summary. Willing to answer any and all questions!

The Chain are lost in time, trapped in an unending cycle of life and death. A familiar tale to the hero's spirit. In their last confrontation with the incarnations of demise, and the demons he commanded--the whole of reality went asunder, and the power of the gods shattered entirely.

After that confrontation--the nine embodiments of the hero’s spirit suffered the same fate as their homeland--their souls washed away in caskets of golden tears and failed promises.

Hyrule was wiped away, wiped from the face of history and beyond. The goddesses had to begin their creation anew, without the baggage of those that caused it’s destruction in the first place.

Earth, modern earth, was created in it’s place--with a few key changes.

For all their efforts--the remains of their first creation leaked through, infecting the history of our earth like vile rot. The monsters were the first to make the breach, their combined hatred and inhuman will to survive holding their corrupted essences together through the transition.

There are stories of these creatures, often disregarded as exaggerated hyperbole by historians, or metaphors for natural disasters. 

They were not.

The Queen Gohma haunts the jungles of South America, legends of her urchin-like young making victims of unfortunate wanderers; sustaining her immortal lifespan in the depths of her hollowed tree.

Argorok terrorized the skies of medieval Europe, casting plumes of fire on the feudal armies that tried opposing it’s oppressive reign; her accompanying packs of gleeoks hunting ancient sailors in the atlantic.

And there were many, so many more monsters that endured the chaotic folding of time and space, the near-annihilation of any sense of self--as the mind and soul were put to battle against the last, drawn out gasps of their dying universe. The destruction was biblical, the return of gods seen only in legend--it’s a wonder that anything survived that cataclysm.

The chain suffered a similar fate--at first--their existence and histories torn apart atom by atom, their souls stretched paperthin as thought and reality blended together during the collapse of stars.

But they endured.

They tumbled through the new cosmos, the echoes of their shared spirit melding into the foundation of the universe--as immovable as gravity. When humanity came to prominence; the chain were there to follow. They were reborn, stripped of their memories, into a thousand different societies, and countless eras.

At times of crises and devastation; their nine courageous souls were reborn across the earth, their courage burning brighter than it had been before. They were prepared for the changing world, their skills old and new continuing with each reset.

There are some echoes of continuity, however, rules that their spirit must follow.

Twilight is related to time in some way, and they’re the two who meet again the most. 

Wind is always born in sea-faring communities, whether that be in the literal age of pirates, or as an early tribesmen at the dawn of civilization--rediscovering his aptitude for sailing.

And as the chain have been reborn, so too have many of Hyrule’s legends, their essences bleeding forth onto our realm. The memory of that primeval history scars our world, and fragments of every era hides under the bustling, nation-states of our modern age.

Some more aware than others.

Those with the blood of Hylia returned, bringing the memory of their goddess with them--thought to be eradicated. They possess no royal heritage, living as normal citizens, the zeldas being born nearby their links.

The sheikah bounced back quickly, as Impa(SS) managed to come out of the transition with her memories intact--assembling her fractured tribe during the stone ages. 

TLDR: Modern AU that’s sort of percy jackson in how Hyrule seeps over. Ancient things hidden in modern times, with the chain reborn worldwide.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #fanfic #lu au #linked universe fanfic #linked universe au #eclipse au #involves alot of time travel #not sure if I want a long term story for it but I have alot of oneshot ideas #lu chain #linked universe chain #lu time #lu twilight #casting these chain tags like candy on a fishing rod #lu impa #lu sky #lu warriors #lu wind

[storm-driver]

roxas offering to bring ven to get some ice cream every once in a while to destress from searching for sora. keeping up with each other in this way, sharing stories about life in twilight town, what they've found in the realm of darkness. just two boys being friends and trying to get by while finding their missing friend

#kingdom hearts #stormy weather #mental image of there being a rough fight in the RoD to a point where all the wayfinder trio is struggling #dents in their armour #cracked glass on their helmets #very worn out and desperate to end the fight and get out #when ven is about to get pummeled into oblivion you can see his worried expression through his damaged helmet #and something goes to intervene #blocking the attack for ven #saving him #ven looks up and sees a blond boy in a black coat protecting him and turning to ask if hes alright #...not me just writing a fanfic in the tags woops.

[writeyouin]

oh well shootin heck, multiple asks are okay? then could I pretty please ask for a fluffy, lovely little bit of G1 Hot Rod x Reader hangin' with Daniel and then chilling for a bit? nothing specific, go for what ya feelin, friend ✌️(also uh pls to let me know when you get this one, too, fff)

Hot Rod (G1) X Reader – Lake-Side Mishaps

A/N – Ah, I’m always glad to answer your asks as someone who has been here since the beginning. Thank you for always reading my stories, you are fantastic.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You sat beside Daniel, resting your legs over the edge of the Lake and paddling your feet, relishing the coolness it brought. Hot Rod sat on Daniel's other side, and though he was usually content to simply sit and talk with Daniel, he found himself unusually distracted, glancing at you every so often before fixing his gaze back on the scenery in front of him. He knew that if he could only tell you how he felt and get it off his chassis then he would feel better. There was always a chance that you might not return his feelings, but there have been some human-Cybertronian relationships before, just like that girl who loved Powerglide, for whatever reason.

"(Y/N), if you keep splashing in the water like that, you'll scare away all the fish!" Daniel cried out indignantly, glaring at you.

"That so?" You replied languidly, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"Yeah!"

You nodded thoughtfully then began thrashing your legs wildly, kicking up more water than before, all while yelling at the top of your lungs, "Hey fish, swim for your lives! Daniel wants to keep you prisoner!"

Hot Rod laughed at your antics, finding it even funnier when Daniel pouted at you, entirely bemused. 

Daniel stood up placing his hands on his hips, "Come on. Quit it!"

You pursed your lips playfully, "Hmm, nope, don't think I will."

Taking on a dramatic persona, Daniel growled, "Then you've left me no choice."

"And what does that m-"

Daniel rushed at you, pushing you into the lake, a fate you were wholly unprepared for. You screamed at the surprise descent, though it was quickly cut off as you were submerged in the water. Hot Rod gleefully watched the miniature battle unfold, finding it an entertaining distraction from his earlier thoughts.

“Say, Daniel,” He addressed the young human casually, “That was so sneaky, it was practically a Decepticon move.”

For his part, Daniel only grinned devilishly. You broke the water’s surface, gasping as you came up, and trod water, surprised by how deep the lake was near to the bank as it was.

“Oh, and that didn’t scare the fish?” You asked Daniel sardonically.

Daniel rested his hands behind his head, “Maybe, but it showed you.”

You narrowed your eyes, then feigned defeat, “Alright, you win, but at least help a friend out and give me a hand, yeah?”

“Okay,” Daniel agreed enthusiastically, offering you his hand.

Grinning, you grabbed his forearm and pulled him into the lake, enjoying the sound of betrayal that resounded in his startled yelp.

“Unbelievable,” Hot Rod bemoaned disapprovingly, “I’m now in league with two Decepticons.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “It’s a tough world.”

Hot Rod shook his head, then when Daniel surfaced, he lifted the two of you out of the lake, letting the cupped water escape through the gaps in his fingers.

“All right, you two, I’d say it’s time I got you both home.”

Hot Rod put you down and transformed, opening his doors invitingly.

“Aww, do we have to go back now?” Daniel whined.

“Sorry Daniel, I promised your dad I’d get you home early tonight.”

“All right… I’ll go if I have to, but can we hang out again tomorrow?”

“Sure thing.”

With the exchange over, you and Daniel got inside Hot Rod, enjoying the drive back despite occasionally shivering thanks to your wet clothes.

Once Daniel had been left with Spike and Carly, you expected that Hot Rod would offer you a ride home to your place in the city, but he seemingly didn’t wish to part from you as he spoke up.

“Hey…” He started, clearing his vocaliser as if he was nervous.

“Something up, Hot Rod?” You asked, resting your hand on his dashboard.

“Well, I was just thinking, it’s still kind of early and… Uh, you could come back to my place if you want. We could catch a movie, or play video games, you know, just the two of us.”

You smiled warmly, “That sounds great, but ah, what about my clothes? I don’t have anything at your place, and I can’t stay in these. I’ll get sick.”

“Right, yeah, of course… But you know, I have some cleaning rags that you could use as blankets, and we could leave your clothes to dry on the heating rack,” Hot Rod suggested, feeling that it was a pathetic offer as he did so. Why would you choose a night with him wrapped in cleaning rags when you could go home to a hot shower and a clean set of clothes?

You tapped a finger to your cheek, pretending to be deep in thought. “Gee… I guess we could do that, but the real question is what movie would we watch, hmm? Got anything in mind?”

Hot Rod’s spark pulsed erratically; he couldn’t believe you were going along with this.

“What about Back to the Future?”

“Sounds good,” You grinned. “Okay Hot Rod, let’s see how fast you can get us back to your place.”

“You got it!”

Hot Rod revved his engines excitedly, taking off quickly as he thought about everything he could do to make your first date perfect.

Like My Work? Buy Me A Ko-Fi @ https://ko-fi.com/writeyouin

#transformers g1 #transformers #maccadam #hot rod #rodimus #hot rod x reader #hot rod x you #rodimus x reader #rodimus x you #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #lakeside mishaps

[ughmyreality]

I love your fics and I have a prompt for you. It’s fine if you don’t want to take it. It’s Christina/Orel fic idea. Basically one day Reverend Putty comes across a grisly sight of Christina and Orel wrapped in each other arms lying dead. He find out they drowned but the weird part is that they drowned in sea water but Moralton is pretty far from the ocean. Putty decides to solve the mystery by looking back over the previous weeks remember Orel asking about love and sacrifice. He then discovers the Posabules were under a curse that could only be lifted with an act of love.

Hey, I will go ahead and say that I lowkey didn't know what to write for this for multiple reasons lol. Mainly, I'm not particularly enthralled with Reverend Putty. So this might be OOC. Another being, I decided to take a more realistic route rather than lean to heavily into it being a hardcore curse. Anyway, I present to you "The Truth Will Set You Free"

Death is all around. From the highest points to the deepest depths. It’s a fate so inevitable that it might as well be a comfort. No matter what you do in life, even your biggest missteps will be erased in due time. That is why Reverend Putty places little thought in the matter. When it happens all around you, you become numb to it. It was just another thing that happens just as the moon proceeding the sun. Just as God intended it to be, and after all who was he to question God, he was simply his spokesperson.

But that doesn’t mean that all death is pleasant. No, some are taken in gruesome ways while others are far too young. It just so happens that the sight before him was a mixture of both. 

The sun had barely come up into the sky by the time the Reverend made it to the church. He wanted to get there extra early to rehearse what quick whipped jokes he’d tell and it’s not like anyone would miss him back at home. 

When the creaky door fully opens, it wasn’t the sight he had become accustomed to. There laying in the middle of the building sat two people. A boy and a girl. Orel and Christy, Christian, Kristina Whatever that new girl’s name was. Their arms were wrapped around each other as though to shield each other from harm. It would have been a wholesome sight if they were just sleeping.

…if only they were just sleeping.

Their faces were still submerged deep within two buckets. One a beach pail and the other a mop bucket. Probably swiped by the two. The water within them couldn’t be just regular water from the tap. No, this had the familiar stench of the wilderness. The piss of the animals and the salt of the sea. But how’d they get it anyway?

Taking a closer look he sees a simple note laid like a small blanket over the two. 

Hello to whoever’s found me. If I have yet to wake, that must mean that the curse is lifted! I’m sorry but we couldn’t find a mass amount of holy water so this will have to do instead. The boy beside me is Orel. He kinda helped me with this plan. Don’t worry, he’s going to be ok too. We both think he has the curse too. We’ll be just fine,  for in God’s hands everything goes to plan.

-Love Christina Posabule and Orel Puppington

He knows exactly where to go.

“Hiya Reverend!”

-2 Weeks Earlier-

It was a late Sunday afternoon. The service had come to an end, and all he wanted to do was get home and rest, but as they say there’s seemingly no rest for the wicked. Orel came barreling through the door with a joyful expression on his face.

“Ugh, Orel, don’t you have anything better to do?”

Orel’s face didn’t change, instead he deflected. “What’s more important than talking about God?”

The boy held his eye contact until he was forced to give in.

“What is it now, Orel?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked! What if you love someo-”

He quickly cuts the boy off. ‘Love’? Why would he be asking about that of all things? There was no room for things like love in a town like Moralton.

“Orel, I know nothing about love so you might as well cut it off there.”

“Come on Reverend, everyone knows about love at least a little bit. I mean you have to love God something fierce to devote your time to be a Reverend! I might know a lot about it but I know that I love that I can go to school, and my brothers, and christmas, and apple pie, and going to church, and hav-”

“OK! Fine, I get it, everyone knows about love. Now what is it you need?”

Orel let out a sigh of relief and rambled, “Oh, well, I need to help someone else. They need to sacrifice for someone they love but how do you do that? Shouldn’t they want the best for you? Not want you to sacrifice anything?”

“Orel, Orel, Orel. People make small sacrifices everyday, it doesn’t even have to be for someone they love. Take your Mom and Dad for example, they’ve stayed together all these years for appearances. Danielle continues to coach you crazy kids for money. And I’m talking to you to keep face. We all must sacrifice some of our happiness to survive in this world, Orel.”

For the first time since he’d arrived Orel’s bright eyed gaze shifts. “But… this person isn’t very happy as it is.”

“You know, when something gets too hard, it's easier to just give up. Like writing an essay an hour before the deadline. It would be easier to not do it at all than try to scramble to get it finished. So, I’d say you should just end-”

Orel jumped up from the pew with a new wave of excitement. He had to give it to the kid, nothing could take him down for too long.

“Great! Thanks so much Reverend! You always know what to say!” He smiled at him and ran to the door.

“Hello, I’m Rev-

“...the relationship.”

“I know who you are. It hasn’t been that long, you old geezer.”

The person who came to the door was no other than Poppit Posabule. When he first thought of abruptly showing up to her house he refrained. He needed to give the police time to inform the family and to let them grieve. It’s been 3 days since he’s found them but the woman before him looks as though nothing was amiss. Three days is a long time for a lot of things but three days wasn’t enough to get over the loss of a child.

“Well, I just came here to talk about Christina if you don’t mind.”

The woman leaves the door, opting to walk deeper inside the house. She takes off her shoes and walks on the plush carpet and he takes this as a sign to follow.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Surely you know that Christina has passed aw-”

“I know she’s dead.”

He stills right in his place. It was such an abrupt way to speak of someone much less their own child.

“She’s dead so there isn’t much left to talk about is there?”

“Maybe I can talk about this to your husband?”

“He’s not here.”

“When will he be back?”

“We divorced, he’s never coming back. I’m getting tired of your questions. Can’t you see I’m a newly freed woman? I’m trying to enjoy myself for the first time in years! In solitude.”

“Fine! I’m just here to find out why they did it! You know she did it with Orel too right? That kid really knew how to get under my skin but he was still a kid. A kid who now will never get to grow up! Do you know why she did it? Why try an-”

“BECAUSE I TOLD HER TO! Because she'd become the bane of my existence. Because I wanted a way out! So what if I made up some story for her? Parents do it all the time. The story of a poor little girl named Christina, who was cursed when she was a baby. She made everyone around her miserable but all she had to do was make a sacrifice. The curse was sure to be her family's downfall if she didn’t reverse it. And look at her now! It’s reversed!”

Living in Moralton has caused him to hear plenty of fucked up things but this… this might take the cake.

“It wasn’t hard either, she was so gullible. Oh so very gullible. It’s not like flat out told her to do it. She could have left the family any way she pleased but you know how kids are Reverend. So full of imagination.”

It’s not uncommon for families to have that one member that they’d rather avoid. The one that you only include out of obligation. The one that sticks around plaguing the family like a curse. For the Posabules, that person was Christina. And now he knows the unfortunate truth.

And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. – John 8:32

#fanfiction #fanfic #moral orel #orel puppington #christina posabule #reverend putty #rod putty