#rung my beloved

[signanothername]

Grandpa Rung and his beautiful grandkids

Follow the Terrans on their fun journey to bring Rung back to full functionality, and for Rung meet old friends

This is the wonderful fic GemmaRose worked hard on to accompany my artwork! Please read it! It’s such a beautifully written masterpiece <3333

———

This is GemmaRose’s and my contribution to the beautiful reverse bang event @tf-bigbang

[cobalt-chrome]

Uhhhhh fuck I'm addicted to the collage thing on pintrest

[witchofthesouls]

Hello, I don't usually ask questions on social networks, but I wanted to know what you think of a story where our human friend suffers an accident aboard the lost light in the Brainstrom laboratory and now the bots are able to see his thoughts. Bonus points if it's weird stuff (most of our minds are very weird), (sorry if something is poorly translated, I'm writing this with the translator) ^^)

One, I absolutely adore this concept.

Two, did you know there are people that think in pictures rather than use an internal voice?

And to top it off, people go around referencing pop culture, iconic scenes, memes, and their favorite media as well as the weird, intrusive thoughts and extreme, nonsensical daydreams...

I like to think there would be a media war between the Cybertronians that never went to Earth and only know beloved cartoons and shows and memes from the weird reenactment from the resident human's mind but with the Lost Light crew getting morphed into it versus the Cybertronians that actually had direct experience and personally downloaded those shows and movies.

As the "I Ship It" song goes, canon ground versus crack ship space.

Does anyone else remember those Naruto animation videos where the Akatsuki are drawn drunk or doing hilarious dances? The human looked up the Decepticon Justice Division, cross referenced on what they do, and immediately thought of a full sequence of the D.J.D. doing the Gang Torture Dance from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure.

The human thinks of sequences, including but not limited to:

Ultra Magnus as Steve Harvey from Family Feud with Rodimus with the "Nekkid Grandma!" bit

Rodimus doing "Goofy Goober Rock" because Roddy would love to be suspended in the air and dressed in wizard swag with a killer rip on a peanut-themed guitar. Drift has the legs to fulfill Patrick's fishnet-and-heels dance.

Megatron and Ratchet in The Office because he would stare deep into the camera at whatever new trouble has plagued the ship

Getaway and Rodimus doing the "Tony and Ezekiel" bit

So many fire-related memes: Elmo and the "This is fine." Dog.

The overlap of Rodimus in Gurren Lagen and Bang Brave Bang Bravern

The continuously weirder and weirder thoughts on how Cybertronian strip club would look like based on Futurama, Cyberpunk, and Night runner's Magnum Bullets. "Snu-snu" bit included. It's both highly ridiculous, strangely erotic, and absolutely terrifying at the same time to the Lost Light crew.

Whenever a mech does something stupid, the human immediately reimagines the mech in Wheel of Fortune fails, or a shoving potatoes in the exhaust

Nightbeat in a noir setting or as Sherlock Holmes

Rung is "Mister Cellophane" from Chicago

Assigned character theme songs

The last bullet causes so much drama because mechs want to have really cool or badass themes, but no! The human assigns them sex or porn songs like "Life is a Highway" and "Shut Up and Drive" and "Two Trucks," or something silly like "Barbie Girl" or the opening theme to Mega XLR or the sad song on the world's smallest violin to the poor bastard that gets stuck with the engex bill at the end of the night.

[rory-multifandom-mess]

meet my TF oc I made to ship with Rung from mtmte/ll

Anyway

[HURTS HIM HURTS HIM HURTS HIM]

[transingthoseformers]

Sorry just thought of a fun brand of Megastarop.

Optimus post-war having figured out he no longer has a chance with Megatron because Megastar worked out their issues and getting drunk when Ratchet finally gets him to a party. He's mooning and retreats to a balcony only to be caught like a startled cat by Starscream who is being bristly because he feels insecure about the MegOP.

(He and Megatron need to talk about this but they've just figured out how to discuss their feelings so it is a work in progress fuelled entirely by Starscream holding Rung hostage during one mission and getting accidental therapy and then proceeding to kidnap him and have him as an emotional support Autobot for months long enough for Megatron to also get talked to.)

Optimus is just trying to be mature and saying he won't interfere as Starscream snips but then gets sulky and finally because he is three sheets to the wind asks how Starscream got him to top acvording to rumors. Optimus drunkenly rambles about how that was always an issue because they both had preferences and clearly Starscream was worth making the effort for.

Starscream is now speedrunning attraction because he's picturing it and Optimus in new ways and says oh he doesn't.

Cue drunk Optimus looking at him wide eyed and going oh and saying now his jealous for a different reason because no one tops him and they all make asusmptions

Starscream is having an "oh no he's hot" moment mixed in with a "I know too much" meltdown before Optimus is retrieved by Jazz who squints at Starscream suspiciously.

Starscream is just up nights thinking about this because it turns out Optimus is not perfect and uneffected but also a hot mess and a person not a Untouchable Religious figure and this and Optimus being mean has made him infinitely more attractive.

After several months back and forth and working things out and an appointment with Rung that Starscream actually scheduled instead of making off with him again as promised, they all work things out and Starscream is living his best life.

Omg yes

That's a lovely way to do it

The war is over, Optimus is having feelings, Rung gets fucking kidnapped by Starscream,

EMOTIONAL SUPPORT AUTOBOT

EMOTIONAL SUPPORT AUTOBOT

Optimus trying to be the bigger bot here but also fuckingddghj

Optimus: so how did you get him to top

Starscream: ?

Optimus: how did you convince megatron to dick you down

Starscream: do I look like a bottom to you

Optimus: do you even have to ask

Starscream is sitting here absolutely zooming his way through the possibilities because he's got ideas now, and dude's practically having a meltdown because he has Realized Something Big™️

Jazz is both right and wrong to be suspicious, Starscream is acting suspiciously but not for the reasons he's thinking

Starscream:

Starscream: I need him carnally

Of course he ends up calling Rung, they always come back to Rung

They're going to have so many different sessions of therapy and group therapy and they'll work things out

Eventually

[raeblog-reblog]

the fact that this is the last thing rung does before he nearly died taking a hit for max makes it all the more heartbreaking. gotta be the most gut-wrenching panel in the comic, at least in what I've read so far.

don't tell me if something worse is coming for me, I live in blissful ignorance of the ouch that's coming after dark cybertron.

This panel of Rung comforting a PTSD ridden Fort Max always makes me cry. Rung is too good for the world.

[cuppajj]

[TF Mercy] No Longer Helpless

Kindred in their history, Fortress Maximus and Rung meet up to check in on each other's well being; but what was planned to be a simple conversation suddenly goes south, and the Autobot general suddenly finds himself in the midst of the hunter's abrupt and trauma-fueled panic attack.

[AN: So uhhh I ship Rung and Fortress Maximus in TF: Mercy >>;; it started out as a joke about them getting together because they went through some very similar stuff but then the joke turned out to have actual substance, one thing leads to another and here is my first fic for the game with them! It takes place after Reformed Predator, and hence has spoilers from the story. Just to be safe there are also spoilers for Space Adventure as well! If you haven't read Mercy's RP or SA Storylines then I encourage you to so you have better context of what's going on--but you can still enjoy it without nonetheless! Anyway without further ado!]

TF Mercy belongs to @emperor-kumquat​

-

    Fortress Maximus had arrived on time like he always did, knocking on Rung’s apartment door with a book in his servo. They had agreed to check in on each other, discussing their feelings, thoughts, and anything that had happened to them within the past two weeks. It had become an unofficial two-way therapy session, with a little amiable conversation about life thrown in, and the occasional book talk. As a librarian, Rung had given Maximus plenty of book recommendations, most revolving around the general’s flowering interest in nature and animals. Today, Maximus had finished his book on early cybertronian botanical practices, and was interested in returning it to Rung ahead of time. When Rung opened the door, the two greeted each other with friendly smiles, exchanging pleasantries as he let him in. A pair of energon glasses were already prepared for them, Maximus’s favorite blend, which carried a strong aroma. They sat on the coffee table, and the Autobot had helped himself to a sip as he managed to fit his massive frame on the couch.     He hadn’t said anything, but Maximus had noticed that Rung sounded gloomier, whenever they called each other. He insisted he was okay when he asked, blaming work or recent hunts for his troubles; but as much as Maximus wanted to leave it at that, he knew that Rung wouldn’t feel this way over work. He hoped to discuss it with him today, during their official unofficial session, when they were meant to divulge everything. He certainly hoped he wouldn’t come across as too nosy, especially if the reason was truly such a simple thing.     “Oh, I almost forgot our notes,” Rung had realized as he was about to take a seat next to the other. “I’ll be right back.”     “Take your time,” Maximus implored, setting his glass back down on the coffee table. Rung disappeared past the door to his habsuite, leaving both of them to their own thoughts.

    Thoughts that Maximus was unaware of, that had been in the back of Rung’s head for weeks. Every time he stepped into his room, he would pass Funeral, mounted on the wall. He hadn’t stopped to gaze at it lest he was pulling it off, but recently, he found himself staring at each intricate cut and scratch riddling its sleek gray metal, from the history of monster hunting that he would embark on. There were times when a sparkeater would round on him, claws and tendrils ready to scratch and stab relentlessly, and Gravemaker would use his gun to push them back, letting the weapon take the hits for him. He could fight back against the monsters he faced, capitulating not once even when all odds were stacked against him.     On any other day, Funeral’s battle scars would imbue within Rung a sense of pride.     Today was different. Today was when he interpreted those scars in a different way, when he saw something beyond all of the wear and tear. Yes, he could fight back now, but there was a time when he couldn’t.     Not when it mattered the most.     Not when he saw his old friend that day, or what was left of him.     As he neared his desk where his notes laid, he grit his dentae, attempting to shake the looming trepidation away. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He was with Maximus, he had to stay calm for him! All of that could come later, when he had the right words to tell him. If he even wanted to, when he already had time and time before. Was it even worth it? No, no, but that was why they had sessions like these. Anything and everything could be said, no matter what it was or if it had been heard before. He knew, Max knew, so why was it so hard?     Then the thoughts, the memories, came back as fast as Rung had attempted to push them out. The helplessness that he once had, so long ago. He froze in place, inches away from his notes, head throbbing and optics agape. He pleaded for this to not happen to him, not now, not when the time was supposed to be lighthearted and sentimental; but he had pushed these emotions away for so long now, that his attempts to push even further were no longer possible. These memories, this new perspective of Funeral’s marks, were not new; he had harbored them for longer than Maximus had become aware of his sullen mood.     They were hungry, now; ready to tear at his mind and feast.     Like he’d been.

    Outside, Maximus had been playing with his digits, studying the simplistic living room around him as he patiently waited for Rung to return. He shifted a little in place, attempting to sit more comfortably on the couch, but he felt the legs scrape beneath him ever so slightly as his weight dragged them along with his frame. He pursed his lips and stopped immediately, resorting to pushing the coffee table a little further away from the couch so he could position himself closer to its edge. He was unaware of Rung’s condition in the other room until he suddenly heard the door slam open, and out with it scurried the smaller cybertronian. His quick and panicked breaths filled the room, telltale signs for the Autobot that something was terribly wrong.    “Rung!? Rung!” Maximus gasped, whipping his helm behind him. “What’s going on!?”    Confusion and shock grew exponentially as he watched Rung grip his chassis and helm, optics squeezing shut and blowing open at irregular paces. They gaped at nothing and everything all at once, seeming to lose sight of his own apartment, and Maximus along with it.

   Fog rolled into his mind, thick and humid like ghastly breath passing his face. Wherever he dared to turn to, he saw nothing but encroaching shadows and bitter isolation, with no one around to help--no one who cared enough, anyway. He swore he could hear Froid’s condemning voice just beyond the mist, but any desperate call fell short of his lips. He found that he couldn’t talk, or scream, or run, no matter how hard he tried. Not when the other voice told him to stop, to quiet, the familiar and horrendous form it belonged to stalking towards him, his giant servos outstretched and his glare piercing through the haze.

   “Rung!”

   Maximus planted one pede down as he stood half out of his seat, balling his fists as he watched--he didn’t want to think helplessly, no--he was only stunned. He’d seen Rung sad, he’d seen him cry too, when they had their moments; but he’d never seen him break down into a hyperventilating mess. The Autobot couldn’t figure out what to do, how to calm him down. He had to think, think of something!

   “H-h--”     Rung gripped his head, stumbling across the living room floor unevenly. In the midst of his hyperventilation, he accidentally bumped into the coffee table, causing the glasses to topple over and fall to the floor, shattering on impact.

    CRACK!

    Rung yelped at the noise, whirling around so violently that he lost his footing and crashed painfully onto the couch. The smell of freshly spilt energon nauseated him, mixing with the awful stench that doused him and the monstrosity in front of him. He could hear it now, feel it now, the snarling, the acidic drool dripping onto his orange plating, the hypnotic rays racking his processor over and over. Nothing stopped the ghoul from closing the space between them, malice and hunger in his eyes.    No! No!    “Rung!” Maximus cried. “Rung, please- you’re fine!”    Rung could only gasp and flinch helplessly as he felt the skeletal claws on him, the furious growling of the towering ghoul overhead growing louder and louder. Any desperate thought and attempt to flee was ripped from him, the power too great for him to resist. It was too much, the feeling of futility—all too familiar, dreadful all the same.    The ghoul’s optics bore into his own, drowning the front of his form in a sick purple light as the shadows behind him nipped and bit at his rattling frame, threatening to engulf him entirely. All Rung could see was his face, he could feel his breath on him, gnashed teeth parting for his long and dangerous tongue to flick out and drag along his tearful face…    He couldn’t be back.    He couldn’t be back!    He couldn’t—

   “Rung!“

   Instinctively, Maximus reached his massive servos out toward him in an attempt to still him, pacify him, but the sudden motion did nothing but cause the three-wheeler to sink backward, optics bulging wide as their pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks.    Suddenly, the ghoul was on him with an inescapable grip, teeth parting as far as they could as they lunged forward and-

   He gasped, “no-“

   Realizing what he’d done wrong a second too late, Maximus pulled back quickly, spark racing. He stood up and distanced himself from the other, hands raised in front of his chest. Red optics gaped woundedly down on Rung.    “I’m sorry,” Maximus uttered, shaken voice pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”    Rung remained hunched, curled in on himself as his optics continued to struggle to read what was real in that moment. The ghoul’s hulking frame had slinked away so suddenly, peering at him through the thick fog that enshrouded him. The lone purple optic remained fixated on him, finials outstretched, ready to move at a second’s notice—then, another voice broke through into his ears, a stark contrast from the ugly noise grating at him.

   A voice, soft and deep, hurt…    Max?

   Rung blinked as the new voice began to lift the fog and shadows away, the hisses and breaths retreating with them. His optics struggled to register, the silhouette of the ghoul shifting and changing, before the light drowned it out. Optics once purple were now red, brown plating now blue. Gradually, the smaller bot returned to his senses, his quick and heavy breaths slowing down. However, the aftershock of the episode kept his frame trembling.    Maximus found his own breaths slowing down, recognizing that the distance had helped. With softened optics, he inhaled deeply before whispering, “I’m here.”

   Tears streaked down Rung’s cheeks, the gravity of the situation now aware to him. His horror turned to sorrow, and his grip on the armrest loosened.    “Max,” he whimpered, “I…”    Maximus took one step closer, and after gauging his response, slowly approached his side once more. His servos fell to his sides. Rung thankfully didn’t flinch or curl further into the corner of the couch, instead sitting back upright. With his optics on his pedes, he slouched and hid his servos between his legs. His lips quivered and his breath continued to tremble. Maximus finally sat back down next to him, eyeing him with deep concern. He extended a digit to him, which the other took and squeezed on.    “I didn’t mean to,” Rung moaned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”    “Ssh, it’s alright. It’s alright,” uttered Maximus. “Let’s calm down. Let’s calm down, okay?”    Rung echoed his words, nodding quickly and wiping the tears from his optics, but still they continued to fall. He began to breathe slowly and audibly, as deep as he could, and kept the pressure on Maximus’s digit the whole time. He could gauge how badly he shook through his servo, and over time, it slowed in pace. Minutes would pass until the gray bot was finally still. When he was, he opened his optics once more, tears now dripping lightly down his cheeks. He stared at the thin air in front of him, riddled with the same thoughts nonetheless.    Maximus spoke first.    “It was them, wasn’t it?”    After a moment, Rung nodded.    “Yes.”

   He didn’t see Maximus’s gaze darken with the recollection of what he had heard from him of his oldest friends. Rung had trusted him enough to divulge everything that had happened, from their softest moments to the moments where he believed he would die. The betrayal hit too close to home for Maximus, even if the connotations were different; Rung’s sparkbreak was closer than his. Rung saw them as friends, potentially even more than that, for one or both of them. And for them to turn against him… Rung always discouraged his brasher ideas, but even so, they were still there.    But now wasn’t the time to dwell upon his pointed anger; he had something more important to concern himself with.    Maximus’s expression relaxed, and he angled his frame to face Rung, so he could better look at him. He found that Rung did the same, turning from the emptiness of the room to him, though he still didn’t look up. He let go of Maximus’s digit, which fell back to his side, and took a long, tired breath. The other frowned, squeezing his palm lightly before one of his servos rose.

   With servos so huge, capable of crushing the smaller cybertronian’s helm within their grasp, Maximus paid extra attention to the way he reached up to hold it with the utmost care. The sides of his fingers met Rung’s jaw as his thumb reached up to wipe the tears away from his cheek, Rung’s optics closing and frame relaxing at his touch. A shaky sigh left him, and before Maximus’s servo lowered, his own servo lifted to rest atop it, stopping it in place as it cupped the side of his helm.    “It’s been… so long,” uttered Rung, helm leaning into the other’s servo, “since all of that happened. I know it was a traumatic experience for me, but I feel as if I should be past it by now.”    His optics opened to gaze into Maximus’s, the red optics of one who knew what he meant more than most. When he vented to the general of his woes, all the rigidity he was notorious for would disappear, replaced with the understanding features only one who suffered similarly could have. This was no different. Even stronger, perhaps, as Rung had never broken down in front of him like this. Maximus understood him, he could see it in his face; yet he could also see the sorrow and concern behind it.    The giant shook his head.    “It changed your life,” he breathed. “He did. They did, after you trusted them and cared for them for so long. That kind of betrayal wouldn’t leave anyone easily.”    “It’s not just that it was… betrayal,” Rung winced, as if the word was difficult to fathom. “Max, I tried to run. I tried to do the right thing for everyone. And they dragged me back… he kept me there, and- Max, it was torture. I was trapped in there, struggling to survive all because- because-”    Maximus heard Rung’s voice tensing up once more, and he hushed him gently. “You don’t have to talk about it anymore. You’ve had enough for now.”    Rung’s silence agreed, the slow nods brushing up and down Maximus’s palm. His optics closed once more, and he squeezed down on his giant servo.    “To have someone you care about, who cares for you just as much…” Maximus thought with a low voice. “...I know. And I know you know that, Rung. And things like that won’t leave overnight, as I was saying… but the least we can do is find any and every way to speed the whole thing up, I think.”    Rung continued to nod. The general’s words, complimented by his deep and soft voice, helped put him at ease. In his current state, he could simply listen to him go on and on, until the reverberating tone lulled him to a calming sleep… but to admit it now, he wasn’t sure if it was ideal.    “You’re right,” he murmured. “I just hope it’s sooner than later.”    “It will be,” promised Maximus.

   The three wheeler’s lips pulled back into a small smile. To Maximus, it was all he needed to know that his words had reached his spark, clearing the last of the dread that had choked him to tears.    Rung couldn’t see the ghoul anymore. No more shadows gripped him, the hisses had been silenced, and the biting cold that racked his frame had been replaced with the warmth of his gratitude for Maximus’s company.    Gratitude, among things he was still struggling to wrap his helm around.    He truly did care about Maximus, and he knew that Maximus cared about him the same… yet that thought carried such caution, pressure, and history, that it made him hesitant to truly accept it even though he wanted to. Maybe--no, definitely--because of what had happened to him; and even though Maximus understood, a part of Rung nagged on and on that he couldn’t say everything he wanted to.    He hoped that would change someday    Maximus’s words echoed, it will.    He held them close to his spark.

   “Thank you,” Rung hummed, and the two finally lowered their servos. “I am truly sorry you had to see that. I suppose I’ve had some bottled up feelings over the past few days…”    “I’ll always help you out,” Maximus assured. “Please, tell me next time. Bottling things up isn’t good for you, you hear?”    Rung’s optics fell to the side, and he smiled. “Yes, you’d know that, wouldn’t you? Always exuding your emotions like so…”    He looked back up right as the telltale blush met Maximus’s cheeks, and just as fast, the other averted his gaze. “‘Exuding my emotions’ helps. For me at least,” he smiled sheepishly. “You should try it sometime.”    The two fell silent after their exchange of warm smiles. As Maximus sat next to Rung, the other began to observe the state of the room with renewed clarity. Noticing the two energon glasses spilling their contents across the floor, his smile wavered, a silent “oh” falling shamefully under his breath. He knew he didn’t mean to, but he’d prepared them for them to enjoy together as they talked about all of the-    “Rung, it’s okay,” Maximus said suddenly, reading his thoughts from his frown alone. “We can prepare more later.”    “But shouldn’t we do that before we talk?” Rung blinked back at him, bewildered. “I don’t mean to get up so suddenly, but I should clean that up and prepare us more- ah--”

   Strong servos enveloped his thin gray frame, pulling him delicately forward as he let out a soft gasp. Maximus adjusted himself and leaned backward on the couch, kicking one leg up onto the as the other slid over the edge to plant itself on the ground and balance his massive frame. Rung was hoisted up to sprawl atop Maximus’s chassis, and his awestruck expression, he didn’t resist at all. Heat quickly built up in his frame as the giant finally relaxed his servos, keeping them in a blanket across his torso. They eyed each other, and Rung could see the blush across Maximus’s face. He wasn’t used to doing this, picking him up and laying him against him. It was very… forward? Intimate? Words that made his blush deepen, but his gaze remained focused on Rung despite his swirling bashfulness. Part of him hoped Rung wouldn’t take it so intensely.    “We’re already talking,” he spoke, their closeness bringing his voice to a hum.    “Max…” Rung released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.    “The drinks aren’t as important,” replied the other.    Rung wanted to protest, insisting that complimentary drinks were courteous and deserving for both of them, but he was aware of how his entire frame relaxed in Maximus’s embrace. Maximus didn’t want him to get up, and something told Rung that his tiny frame didn’t want to either.

   Oh.

   His head flicked left, then right, searching for any spot to obscure the blush building up in his cheeks. He ultimately folded his arms in front of him and hid part of his face in them, covering all but his glimmering optics, and to his misfortune, the blue hue that surrounded them. His optics remained glued below him--which didn’t help as much as he wanted to, considering he was now staring into Maximus’s chassis. He emitted a short unintelligible mumble, shifting in place. Even though Maximus hadn’t said anything, Rung was predicting what words would come next: “This isn’t about them, it’s about you.” “You and I matter more than that.” “Let’s just have this moment between us.”    But Maximus didn’t feel the need to say any of those, as he read Rung’s body language. As the three-wheeler shyly tucked himself into his chest, he knew what he meant.    “You don’t have to see them ever again,” Maximus said instead, alluding to the subject of Rung’s distress. He squeezed down on him, as tightly as he could with his restrained strength for the other’s comfort. “You’re in a better place now. It’s what you deserve.”    Rung bit his lip, legs curling into himself. Those two were his… no, Maximus was right. He never doubted that. If his new perspective meant that his memories of the past would be interlaid with bitterness and pain, then so be it. It was the past. He could make new memories today and tomorrow.    And Maximus, he could help. They could make them together.    “Thank you,” Rung’s stiffness eased, helm rising from his arms to smile gratefully up at him. Hope glimmered in his optics, which Maximus noticed. He wouldn’t admit it then, but he loved to see that gleam of his, every time…    “Of course,” Maximus’s optics lidded. “And I’m here for you. You’re here for me, after all.”    We have each other, he almost said, but those words were too much for him and his already blue face.    Rung hummed, “yes…”

   Perhaps they didn’t need to talk through anything today anymore. The company of the other was enough, the consoling words and equally soft and sympathetic voices the cures for the dread that plagued them.    Rung uncurled his limbs, slowly splaying them into a more comfortable position to relax atop Maximus’s broad frame. He rested the side of his helm into his chassis, hearing the faint hum of his spark underneath his tough plating. It was funny, how it was usually him who’d lay against him to his surprise. Maximus was the one to surprise him this time, picking him up and holding him here… he’d be too shy for that. Though maybe he still was, if his facial expression said anything. He was too familiar with it, the cute flush on one so infamous for his scowls…    “Could we stay like this for a little longer?” Rung wished to ask, but he listened to Maximus’s slow and deep breaths, and noticed his optics were closed to allow himself to savor the moment.    He did the same.    It seemed like he didn’t have to ask, when the answer was already yes…    The drinks could wait.

[arcticmist0324]

By the age of 30, everyone needs to have several fictional meow meows that they would gladly abandon every single one of their morals to defend.

[d-lanx]

punk is the victim of a good old fashioned house show game of: "Bully the Heel"

[fluffyspaceowls]

great googly moogly

Quick Rung bnuuy WIP. He's getting a couple of design tweaks while I'm at it :3

[signanothername]

Earthspark wouldn’t dare include him cause he’s SO dad shaped he’ll outdad every dad in the show

Anyway I NEED RUNG TO MEET THE TERRANS PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ-

It’s very very unlikely but a girl can dream

I’m hoping beyond hope to see Rung in any way shape or form, be it mentioned or shown in a flashback or something PLEASE

[zombified-queer]

🌀🌤️ ^_^

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

Okay I'm gonna talk about Spotlight: Rung:

In the aftermath of the quest for the Knights of Cybertron and saving the universe, the Tetrahex Ripper is asked by Primus himself to put his powers of shadowplay to work. The catch? He can't explain Rung's own orders to the mech.

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

Again, from Spotlight: Rung, we have this exchange which I'm Very Pleased With:

“Where’s Froid?” Rung manages through the pain.  To Rung’s horror, Sunder tugs at the bit of chain around his neck. At the end is a brain module.  Rung fights the urge to purge his tanks. 

[proustianlesbian]

dans ma monster era 🫡

le fait que j'avais quelques souvenirs de l'anime parce que ma mère regardait ça quand j'avais genre 5 piges et que maintenant c'est un potentielle obsession....

[arulens-least-horny-jongleur]

-my players 5th level dragonborn sorcerer after “accidentally” starting world war 1 in my campaign and kicking off a quest line they weren’t supposed to deal with until 10th level…

Do you think God stays in heaven because He, too, lives in fear of what I personally have created?

[blumingtoadstool]

I’m not gonna shut up about Mouthwashing for a while, so here’s my thoughts on Curly’s hallucinations when he’s on his way to give Jimmy his psych eval.

My interpretation of this is that this Curly’s whole arc summed up into one scene.

We don’t know anything about him other than he’s a well respected captain, meaning he’s been in space for a while. Him walking around, admiring the beauty of the stars is him just enjoying his job as he’s climbing the ranks.

Then we get the first warning messages. This is either when Jimmy and Curly first met, or at the very least when Curly got Jimmy a job on the Tulpar. There’s a few warning signs that’s relatively easy for Curly to ignore and walk past, like how he shrugs off Jimmy’s behaviour or helps defuse situations without disturbing the peace.

We can assume Jimmy was a problem before everything unraveled, and Curly was always there to calm everyone down without addressing any issues.

This is where we get to the main story. As said in the game, Curly feels like he’s reached the top rung on his career’s ladder, and he’s not sure where to go from here.

Meanwhile, the warning signs he’s ignoring are getting bigger.

This is probably the days leading up to the crash. Now that the truth is out about Pony Express shutting down, Curly’s thinking even more about what’s next for him. He’s at the top of the ladder, but if everything is becoming automated, where does that leave him? Despite Jimmy’s outburst at the party, we don’t know for sure if Curly’s got a secure job to head to next, and Curly probably doesn’t either.

Speaking of Jimmy, the warning signs are getting bigger and more frequent. From Jimmy’s outburst at the party, him being blatantly jealous about how Curly is such a beloved captain, to the fact that Curly knows about Anya’s pregnancy. She told him about Jimmy attacking her (another warning signs he ignored) and now he’s got a predicament he can’t just ignore.

Curly knows Jimmy. That’s why he let Anya keep the gun hidden. Because he knows Jimmy won’t react well.

And finally this scene. The culmination of Curly’s mistakes. There are no more warning signs, because the danger’s right in front of his face. Jimmy’s crashed the ship.

He’s still thinking of where he could have gone after Pony Express. All of the other ladders he could have climbed. But that’s not possible.

Because of his inaction to stop his monster of a friend, now he’s staring face to face with a giant fireball.

[kitten4sannie]

ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void

communion

pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)

summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)

a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33

p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼

song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)

No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.

Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.

He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.

“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.

Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.

“Amen.”

Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”

You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.

“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”

Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”

It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.

You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.

“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.

“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”

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