M O N S T E R

There's a devil in the church Indie Ricochet by Sora

[sparkeatcr]

thisbitchfuckingbites·:

Humming softly, the mech watched, pleased as the oh-so-threatening Autobot TiC fell so neatly into line. It was a nice break from the disrespect he usually got. Not from Ricochet, of course. This was a mech that quite obviously appreciated his superior officer. And most of those trigger happy twats ended up as lab rats for - well, hmm, he didn’t actually know that homicidal scientist’s name. Started with a P, maybe? 

Prowl’s train of thought was derailed quite pleasantly at the nuzzling. He found it oddly sweet, something he would expect from a pathetic, clingy one night stand, and not from the one he was currently with. They hadn’t even gotten to something more fun!

“Beautiful is a new one.” Not that he would disagree. Prowl knew he was the best looking mech anywhere, battlefield or not. It was just that, well, most seemed to be of the opinion that a murder spree and maniacal laughter wasn’t attractive. Actually, he had heard himself be called evil, disgusting, terrifying. Although that last one was more of a compliment, really. Haunting the nightmares of a few Decepticons was always a good thing, and it was only a bonus if his troops were scared of him as well. 

“Hmm, such a sweet pet, sayin’ such pretty things ‘bout lil ol’ me. You know how much I adore watching you make your own kills. The way you make ‘em scream first…I’ve always wondered what their fear tasted like…” 

The SiC makes a soft noise of surprise, crimson optics narrowed in a quiet curiosity. This was getting interesting. Just how far could he take this with Ricochet? With brilliant white doorwings fluttering just a little bit, Prowl leaned forward enough to pet over the top of the other mech’s helm. The smile on his face would have been flirtatious, if not for the rather mean glare he fixed on Ricochet.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. You deserve a treat, after all, and who would I be if I couldn’t pamper an’ spoil one of my favorite mechs? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re quite…satisfied by the time I’m done with you, my dear.” He purred, voice overly sweet, though his words seemed genuine enough.

The bulky mech hummed thoughtfully at the praise, engine almost but not quite purring. He loved the screams of his victims as he ripped out their still pulsing spark and consumed it; loved watching them writhe ad he devoured their life force and snuffed out their futures. It was addictive and yet never enough. He always craved more, certain that the only spark that could fill the void in him was the mech above, whose calf and pede he was stroking. The wax aided the glide of his hands up and down, stroking and teasing along the appendage as he listened to that voice, optics fixed on him from under his visor. The words coming from his mouth were honey laced poison, but Ricochet couldn’t be brought to care. He didn’t realize how badly he’d wanted this--no needed. Here on his knees, completely at the others beck and call, at his mercy. The stroke across his helm had him shuddering, almost mewling in delight as they brushed across sensitive audial horns. It didn’t matter how tough he might seem, they were a weakness and having any touch there had him heating up quicker than he’d ever allow normally. 

However, these were not normal circumstances and Prowl was hardly normal himself. Perhaps that was what was most attractive about the SIC; he was sadistic. It felt good to turn off his visor, sink himself into darkness, allow himself to give up control that he normally guarded so jealously. “Prowl...” he murmured, nuzzling at the hand petting over his helm and trying to get more contact on the stubby sensor horns that felt so good to be touched. His mind slipped further into that submissive state, allowing himself to be weak in front of his superior, feeling unduly safe as long as the door remained locked. “Sir--” he added, something he’d never used to address the bot above him, no matter the difference in rank. It was the first time it was accompanied without the usual snark and sarcasm that he directed at their prime. His hands stilled as he soaked up the touch he was receiving, sharp teeth gently worrying his lip as he tried to hold the noises he wanted to make at bay. Yes this felt good, he didn’t have to think or try to do much of anything; all he had to do was what Prowl said. He’d be a good mech and obey. 

[sparkeatcr]

Sorry I’ve been slow as dirt. I promise I have all my threads drafted, Jazz has just been the more active muse. If you wanna bother him he’s over at @metrcnome

[sparkeatcr]

@tfp-optimusprime​​ | MEME

❛ how many more people need to die before you’re satisfied ? ❜

The laughter that bursts forth from the other bot is loud, raucous, and anything but pleasant. Sharp teeth are exposed as his mouth opens wide while sounds of humor come out of him. After a moment it subsides, his expression falling into a sneer as he spreads his clawed hands wide, almost as if he was planning to hug the taller bot. “Tha’s the thing mah dear prime.” he purrs, all sharp edges and danger. “It’s a kill or be killed world and ah don’t intend on gettin mah spark snuffed anytime soon.” The mech before him is twisted, hardened by years of abuse and trauma. There’s an aura of danger that follows him wherever he goes and he likes it that way. “Do ah need ta eat their sparks? Not really ah suppose--but they taste delicious.” He licks his lips at the thought, engines purring in delight at the mere idea. 

It’s a gruesome thing he does and he knows it; ripping the living sparks out of mechs and swallowing them whole. He’s felt their life energy suffuse into him and for a moment--just a moment--he can forget the hole left inside him. What he was before, no one knows, but everyone’s aware something drove him into his madness. There’s enough rumors about what turned him from mech to monster, none of them true. Stepping forward he dares to get in the prime’s space, staring up at the much taller bot with the sneer still very much in place. “Don’t ya worry yer pretty helm. Ah don’t just eat yer bots--ah eat ma own too...should they cross a line. Ya ever hear a bot scream as ya rip out their spark? It’s music ah tell ya. Pure music.”

[sparkeatcr]

@abuzzingofbumblebees​​ | MEME

🍰 - “..Soo tell me what’s your guilty pleasure Sir R?”

“Thought tha would have been obvious by now.” he purrs, fingers lacing carefully under his chin in an almost gentile manner. Or, it would be were in not for the sneering grin on his face that exposes his long set of sharp teeth. “ah eat sparks.” 

// There’s no guilt anymore, at least not consciously, for Rico when he eats sparks. It’s just a part of his nature at this point, just something he does. With the right influence he could probably be convinced to ween himself off, but stopping cold turkey isn’t something he can just do. 

For Rico I treat this like an addiction. He gets off on the rush of life energy and its definitely had some effects on him. It sucks but he’d have to be weened off of spark eating very slowly. That might mean people willing to donate spark energy to help him get that rush, even if it isn’t on the scale he’s used to--or he might even relapse. 

Either way being in the sg autobots has not been good for him. It only seems to perpetuate his unstable mindset and bad habits, this includes spark eating. He can get away with it there so you’d have a hard time convincing him to give it up. Not very comforting knowing there’s a mech around who’d eat you if given the chance. 

[sparkeatcr]

wcrkerbee·:

     The maneuver earns Ricochet a startled, whirring beep, Bumblebee’s arms circling in a vain attempt to keep his balance.

     It takes him too prolonged of a moment to answer. He was too busy trying to keep his vents from popping open.

     “…P… Perhaps – ??”

The shorter bot just widens his grin, looking more like a predator than anything. Leaning in he touches their noses, ghosting hot air across the others lips in a tease. He’ll take what he wants, but it’s more fun to taunt his prey. “Tha’s not a yes pretty bot~” Ricochet’s tone is sultry, coming out as a purr. 

He adjusts his grip, keeping the yellow autobot secure in one arm while with the other he traces a claw-tipped finger teasingly over lips. “Unless ya want me ta just stake a claim~?” Yes, it would be all the more fun to have his prey ask for it.

[sparkeatcr]

wcrkerbee·:

     Bumblebee’s optics shutter. He looks down as weight is added around his midsection, and he finds that he struggles to see the mech past his own chest…

     He abruptly turns his head to try (and horribly fail) to muffle a pitched snort.

     “I – kghgh – um, I’m sorry?”

Ricochet prickles at the snort, not one to just take that lying down. He realizes he’s small but he’s never let his height stop him before and he’s not going to start now. Instead he grabs the others waist tighter and spins him around until he’s dipping the larger bot with ease. 

He smirks down at him, all razor sharp teeth and a smug twinkle to his visor. “You wanted a kiss, didn’t you~?” 

[sparkeatcr]

[anniemakes]

character flaws meme;;

Flaws. We all have them. Even our muses. In fact, they often make for better, more engaging characters. Send a symbol to learn about one of my muse’s weaknesses!

🙊what would my muse say their biggest flaw is

⧱ what really is my muse’s biggest flaw

🤳name three physical imperfections my muse has (birthmarks, gray hairs, muscular definition, etc)

🙈what’s my muse’s biggest blind spot?

🍰what’s my muse’s guilty pleasure?

😰when my muse is stressed, how do they act out?

💚what does my muse get envious over?

🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?

🛌my muse’s biggest nightmare

✍️does my muse have a learning disability?

🎒what was my muse’s worst subject in school?

🙅‍♂️what does my muse feel insecure about?

👾what was my muse’s childhood bogeyman?

🙉what are two things that make my muse uncomfortable in conversation

[sparkeatcr]

[sparkeatcr]

thisbitchfuckingbites·:

Prowl was all too willing to let go of the cloth, even letting out a soft little sigh, as if relieved he didn’t have to continue. This hadn’t been the plan, but Prowl had never been one to turn down an obvious chance at some heavy petting disguised as helping him polish his frame. He’d been planning to do some heavy petting himself, convince Ricochet to take out some blackmailing little bastard. But he could work with this too.

Prowl couldn’t even blame the mech. He was gorgeous, after all; with a sleek, streamlined frame, broad shoulders, squeezable, strong thighs and long legs. And, of course, perfectly accented by his headlights, that wonderful bumper so many admired. He might as well have been designed to be just that perfect.

With a smile that had once charmed a Prime, the SiC reached for Ricochet, grazing the very tips of his claws over the other mech’s chest before he pressed his hand, flat again the mech’s chest. Voice soft and sweeter than any energon candy, he purred, “Who else was I to call but one who’s always admired me from a distance? I always know when you’re watchin’ me, it’s so very flattering! But, unfortunately, my sweet, dear Ricochet….”

Prowl tapped his claws against the weapons specialist’s chassis, a colder, more predatory smile working into his expression. “These wonderful talons of mine were forged and designed with something other than polishing in mind. I’m sure you’ve…seen me in action before…I would be more than happy to give you a reward for…helpin’ me out…” 

With his legs spread to give Ricochet room to work, Prowl moved to hook a claw into a gap between armor, as much of a threat as a means to tug the mech closer, to give him the hint to put his hands on him.

Ricochet had a reputation; one that put him on top and made it very clear that he expected submission from everyone. Here, in the privacy of the others office (the door having closed behind him) he showed a very different side. He practically whine at the nicknames and the praise as his hands began to slide the cloth over a thigh, being surprisingly gentle as he smoothed out the wax. It wasn’t meant to treat the other like he was delicate, no far from it. It was as if the TIC was worshiping the bot before him. He pressed up against him, pushing into the others space and letting his head nuzzle into the bots neck. He wanted to graze his set of sharp teeth over the lines there; to elicit sounds of pleasure. He wanted more of that praise that had his frame trembling with need. As much as he pretended he liked to be in control, it gave him something he didn’t know he needed; that loss of control almost as good as the rush eating a spark gave him. He licked his lips at the thought, hungry for more since he’d not had a single one in a couple days. It was torture for him. 

Now Prowl was under his hands, his chest plates so close and so very tempting. But no, he’d play the good mech and hope that the other bared his spark all on his own. He dare not ask for that, not yet. “Beautiful on the battlefield...” he rumbles the praise, stroking the wax up to one of those hips and putting a little more pressure into his touch. “Ya look so good covered in the blood of yer enemies--surrounded by tha screams.” He practically moans into the others audials as he pulls back a little, if only to pay more attention to what he’s doing with the wax. He teases so close to the others panels, then dances away again, going back to his thigh to smooth out the wax until the appendage shines. Then he slips to his knees, something he’s never done for anyone, and begins wiping the wax carefully down his calf and to his foot. He places a laughably tender kiss on the leg, peering up at the other with his visor glinting. “Always leave one or two for me though...sparks still beating.” He sneers, exposing his shark-like set of teeth. “Yer kills always taste the best~.” 

He works his hand up the calf and to the knee, engine purring. “What kind of reward do ah get for helpin such a capable and talented mech~?” 

[sparkeatcr]

thisbitchfuckingbites·:

Of all the things Prowl would’ve expected from his little stalker, this show of…complete, total weakness hadn’t been factored into any of his escape plans. Not that he needed an escape plan. It had been a cautionary measure, in case he couldn’t just talk Ricochet down from committing murder.

As an Autobot, that was such an odd sentiment, but Prowl didn’t feel like dying before Prime got what was coming to him. As it was, it seemed like he wouldn’t have to worry about that. Maybe if he was a lesser mech, maybe if the thrill of those sharp teeth didn’t have his high performance engines rumbling oh so happily, maybe this little fit would have scared him. But the SiC had seen worse, from fellow Autobots to Decepticon prisoners. So many assuming that the pretty face with the nice hips would be scared witless by show of a little force…

But. This wasn’t Ricochet trying to scare him. He was the one terrified out of his mind, begging Prowl - or whoever he thought he was talking to - to not hurt him, to spare him…

Prowl stepped forward, within the reach of those grasping hands, and loomed over the cowering mech. The smile on his face was not one of kindness.

“Oh, poor little Ricochet…I would never dream of hurting you, but you have to behave for me! Always so naughty, you never listen, and I hate seeing you so distraught, my darling.” Prowl wondered if he could catch the medbay free of Ratchet if he went there now. A blind, scared mech was only useful to an extent…but he also didn’t want to deal with the Hatchet’s questions. “If you don’t behave for me, and calm down like a good boy, I’ll have to leave you here.”

His instincts wanted to scream at him that he was in danger; that he should scramble to his pedes and run. Instead he latched onto the others leg and pressed his face into his pede, vents hitching as he tried to get himself under control. There was nothing comforting in the others field, but he still felt safe with Prowl. He couldn’t remember why or how they’d ended up here, only that he was being called darling and being offered a way out. An uncharacteristic whimper slipped from his lips as he groveled on the ground, clinging to the autobot SIC like a lifeline. He didn’t look like the imposing TIC he was, not at the moment. He was a broken, scared little mech--who would do anything to please the bot he decided was his saving grace. If he were less broken he might be able to finally understand his obsession; to realize that he was hopelessly in love with someone who would likely never return the sentiment. As it was concepts like love were foreign to him. All he knew is that he wanted Prowl, and right now the bot above him seemed to want him too. 

“I’ll be good...” his voice shook with the fear and unshed tears still welled up in his useless optics. “I’ll behave myself from now on. I...I’ll listen to you and be a very good mech I promise.” he trembled slightly, gripping the pede in front of him all the tighter as he tried to still the panic that was suffocating him. He could not see the others smile but he could hear it in his voice. Were he in his right mind he would have snarled and beat a tactical retreat from such an expression, but then he wasn’t in his right mind. The delicate balance of his psyche had been shattered the minute he’d felt trapped and all he cared about was behaving for the bot looming over him. “Please Prowl...” he begged again, trying his best to keep the trembling out of his voice. He’d been asked to calm down after all so he was trying. “Please let me out. I promise...I promise I’ll behave.” He’d be angry when he got out, such a promise was a law to him. Unlike most of the autobots--Rico always kept his promises, whether he made them in his right mind or not. He was as good as Prowls. 

[sparkeatcr]

thisbitchfuckingbites·:

@sparkeatcr

Prowl’s office - a rarely used space, actually, unless he was being bent over that surprisingly sturdy desk or getting some…favors sorted. A little dark, a little creepy, what with the a neat little display of trophies the SiC had taken from fallen enemies. The only thing that may seem out of place is Prowl himself, the black and white mech perched upon his desk, delicately, sensually applying a fine layer of wax to a black thigh.

He doesn’t even blink as the door slides open, he simply raised his cloth to check his handiwork. If he arched his back just a tad more and flared out startlingly bright white doorwings to look just that much more like a pre-war pin up, well…he wouldn’t deny it.

“Hel-lo,” Prowl purred, leaning forward as much as the fresh wax would allow him to. “I’m so sorry for lookin’ like this, I’m just a tad messy with the wax, but I gotta favor to ask and it’s…time sensitive. You don’t mind, do you my sweet?”

He stalks the halls like the beast he is, baring his sharpened teeth at anyone who wanders too close; he even snarls at some extra nosy figures. He’s one of the top dogs in the chain of command after all and he demands respect. If he seems in a better mood than usual than no one can pinpoint it; it’s best not to try and speculate when it comes to Ricochet. The more you try to understand, the less you truly know. As it is he’s on cloud nine. It’s not every day that he gets called to Prowls office...personal! Ever since he laid optics (or visor in his case) on the sensual mech he was determined. He would have him if it killed him. A glossa slid across his lips, long and slow. The thought of that spark had his engines thrumming with desire. He wanted so badly; it was killing him. He sneered privately to himself. If he could just get the other autobot to let down his guard and open that pretty chassis of his, well he’d have his reward; his long desired treat. 

There was nothing that Ricochet desired more than to feel whole and he was obsessed with the notion that only Prowl could give him that fulfillment. He didn’t knock on the office door (never did) and instead forced it open to reveal a sight that had his engine revving audibly. He did nothing to curb the reaction, not ashamed that he found the other attractive. If he tasted half as good as he looked, well then the self-proclaimed weapons specialist wasn’t going to complain. He sauntered in, confidence and sex appeal as he purposefully swayed his hips, trying to show off. He knew he was attractive--even if he was a bit top heavy. With a grace he should not have possessed with his small stature and bulky frame he came up to steal the cloth from the others hand and gave another rev of his engine. “Ya call lil ol me all tha way here ta help ya get all nice and shiny~? Ah think ah can help with tha~” His accent was thick, heavy with the sultry tone he’d taken. 

Prowl wanted to flirt? Oh he could do that. 

[metrcnome]

Keep reading

[sparkeatcr]

OPEN

The walls were too tight and his vents hitched as if the world was closing in on him. It felt like they might suffocate him if they stayed there any longer. Clenching his fingers in and out of the joints on his legs he left dents along the metal; the pain soothing even as his mind crumbled. Old panic rose within him like the rise of water; a flow he could not stop. Normally the pain helped but as he stared around at the walls he’d been trapped in he broke. His mind shattered like glass and he collapsed to his knees, a horrific scream tearing from his throat. Like a beast possessed he ripped away the visor on his face, cracking the fragile material til it shattered. The pain roared through his systems even as the tears dripped from his useless optics. The room disappeared into blackness but it was as if he could still feel it surrounding him. 

It didn’t matter that he was blind; didn’t matter that there was scarring around the components, leaving any repairs useless. They’d been damaged beyond repair, just like the visor he’d shredded from his face in an attempt to escape the narrow hall he’d chased the other into. “Don’t hurt me!” he wailed, the first sign that he was inconsolable. “I’ll…I’ll be a good little mech I promise just don’t hurt me…” Memories of pain made his vents hitch again, spewing the hot air of his distress as he teetered between panic and terror. He could recall how they’d shut him in the dark rooms for hours, with nothing to sustain himself and the burning hot pain of whatever fluid they chose to test on him that cycle. “I…I won’t misbehave again just let me out! Please, please I’ll do anything just…just let me out!” He was on his knees, scrabbling to try and find the others pedes. “I’ll do anything! Anything you want! Just…just let me out. Primus please…please let me out!”

[sparkeatcr]

“Y’all sucking face and didn’t invite me? I’m offended”

[vaememes]

                   𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  .

❛   what  are  you  doing?   ❜

❛   what ,  you’re  going  to  kill  me?  ❜

❛   fuck !  put  the  gun  down !  please , come on !  it’s  me ,  alright ?  ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing  with  that ?   ❜

❛   please ..  don’t  do  this  anymore !   ❜

❛   let  her/them/him  go  or  i’ll  blow  you  away !  ❜

❛   wait ! okay …  okay !  okay , i’ll  tell  you ,  whatever  you  want  to  know  ..   ❜

❛   you  point  that  thing  at  me  you  better  pull  the  trigger .  ❜

❛   alright , alright , alright  ..  i’ll talk !   ❜

❛   please ,  just  let  me  go ,  i  won’t  tell  anyone …  i  promise  .  ❜

❛   let  me  out  of  here !   let  me  go !   ❜

❛   you’re  not  getting  away  this  time  …  ❜

❛   actually ,  i  think  i  better  get  going  …   it’s  late  and  …   ❜

❛   come  on !  fight  back !  fight  back !  fight  back  you  coward !   ❜

❛   come  on ,  hit  me !   ❜

❛   do  it !  pull  the  trigger !  do  it  ,  do  it  ,  do  it !   ❜

❛   come  and  find  me  …  polo !  ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  hide  anymore ,  i  don’t  want  to  be  afraid  anymore  …   ❜

❛   you   keep   saying   you’re   going   to   stop   but   you   don’t !  ❜

❛   how   many   more   people   need   to   die   before   you’re   satisfied ?  ❜

❛   why   are   you   doing   this ?   ❜

❛   don’t   come   any   closer  ,   that’s   far   enough  .   ❜

❛   if   you  don’t   pull   the   trigger   i’ll   pull   it   for   you  !   ❜

❛   i  thought  that  you  were  in  danger  …   ❜

❛   you’re  dangerous  …  i ,   i  just  don’t  want  to  end  up  dead ..   ❜

❛   i  promise  i  won’t  hurt  you  …    ❜

❛   can  you  please  stop  screwing  with  my  mind ,  god  !   ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  be  here  anymore ,  please ,  can  we  go  back ?   ❜

❛   um  ….  i’m  not  sure  i  want  to  go ,   thanks   anyway  ..   ❜

❛   that  sounds  dangerous  ….   i’m  in .   ❜

❛   i  don’t  know ,  it  sounds  awfully  dangerous  …  ❜

❛   stay  back  or  i  will  rip  your  head  off  !  ❜

❛   i  think  …   this   is   wrong ,  no .  i  can’t  just  stand  by   and   watch   it  .   ❜

❛   do  you  think  you  would  ever  hurt  me  like  that ?   ❜

❛   i  can’t  be  with  someone  who  could  hurt  me  like  that  …  ❜

❛   this  is  not  love  !   it   is   obsession  !   a   sick  one  at   that  !  ❜

❛   are  you  following  me  ?   what  …   what  do  you  want  ?   money  ?   ❜

❛   please  …  i  have  money ,   just  let  me  go  .  ❜

❛   i  don’t  think  you  realize  how  the  dangerous  this  game  is  ..   ❜

❛   it’s  not  just  a  game  !   ❜

❛   if  you’re  in  some  kind  of  trouble ,  you  can  tell  me  .   ❜

❛   come  on  ,   it’s  just  a  game ,  what  could  go  so  wrong  ?   ❜

❛   are  you  the  one  that’s  been  watching  me  ?   stalking  me  ?  ❜

❛   actually ,  do  you  mind  if  we  just  stop/pull  over  here  ?   ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing ?   you  missed  the  stop  back  there ?   ❜

❛   hello ?   is   someone  there  ?   ❜

❛   you’re  scaring  me  …   ❜

❛   okay ,  you’re  really  starting  to  scare  me  …  ❜

[sparkeatcr]

                  “Listen up Listen up there’s a devil in the C H U R C H”