I Like To Think That Shockwave Can Still Move His Body When His Head Is Detached 😌 Meaning Soundwave

by  Ash Thorp

Screamer

Amazing!!

bishoujo prowl

Strike that pose‼️‼️‼️

Part 10🥀🩶

FINALLY!! Blessed day! OC origin story finished in full... now to link them all together and move on to other things...

She stared up at the gilded tower, the structure a perfect representation of their society’s upper castes. It’s shining walls hid the rot within, greed and excess, cruelty and corruption… and the laboring functions bore the brunt of it all. Hate coiled in her like the serpent she had named herself for.

Sun having set, the night offered her additional cover as she breached the outside wall and advanced on the main building. The blades in her arms – having replaced the grapnels – were equally as useful in helping her maneuver quickly and accurately. With a few well placed shots she had scaled the tower, gripping the ledge of the same window she had used to escape this place. It wasn’t necessary, but she felt there was a symbolism to entering once again through the place from which she’d left.

The room was occupied, judging from the sounds coming from within. Slowly, carefully, she pulled herself up onto the sill, optics fixed on the pair draped across the berth. Her steps were measured, soft, making hardly a sound as she closed in. She did not recognize the patron. A broad mech, though not a member of the Guard. His plating was too thin for that, more for aesthetics than actual protection. How very ideal. Nearly upon them, she struck, unsheathing the blade from her wrist and driving it into the vulnerable spot next to his back strut. The keen edge slid through him with hardly any resistance, into the cavity in his chassis where his spark was housed. He hadn’t even had time to cry out in pain, offlining almost instantly. The mech beneath him, however, shouted in alarm.

Reaching out, she clamped her servo around his chin, hushing him. He seemed to recognize her after a moment, quieting.

“Tonight you are free. Take what you can and leave this place,” she instructed him, releasing him only when he gave her a curt nod, fear still evident in his optics. She rose from the berth, wasting no time in moving on to her next target.

There was no security in the halls, nor had there been any on the perimeter of the building. The Decepticon uprising had bred an army, and with the looming threat came a rise in demand for those to stand against them. Anyone who had even minimal combat experience had been drafted, which meant places like this – places that were unlikely to be targeted for attack – were left delightfully unguarded.

None would be spared from her wrath this night.

...//♡//…

Energon painted nearly every centihic of her frame, her pedes leaving prints against the tile as she stalked across the room. A part of her had hoped she would find the piece of slag who had stolen her lover away, but he was of course absent, likely on the front lines. She sneered. His end would have been one to savor. For now, this would have to suffice.

The old mech crawled away from her as fast as he was able… which wasn’t very fast at all considering she’d removed his legs. Grand Master of the Spire, the decrepit wretch who had placed the order to dispose of her beloved Star and then chastise her for daring to grieve. The one responsible for all of their pain and suffering. She had saved the best for last.

“You won’t get away with this! You’ll be apprehended, and the High Council will throw your useless frame into a cell to rust!” he hissed at her,

She continued to close in on him, unhurried, amused, and as she drew nearer his brave facade slipped away, fear taking its place. He tried a different approach.

“This… isn’t what you were meant for. I molded you as an artist does! With painstaking care and precision!”

At this point he had backed himself against a wall, and she knelt down to address him, her smile widening into something sinister.

“Care? Come now… you never cared for us. You only cared that we made you wealthy. As soon as we were no longer of use to you, you threw us away… like scrap. That’s not how an artist treats their work.”

The blade slid slowly from its sheath, singing faintly as it did. He cringed a the sight. Realizing there was no reasoning with her, his demeanor shifted again. Perhaps he thought to hurt her one last time.

“This won’t change anything. It won’t bring her back!”

The blade was against his throat cables in an instant, her face so close to his he could feel the heat radiating from her.

“This changes everything. This is the beginning of the end for bots like you. I might not get her back, but I can do everything in my power to ensure that others like us won’t have to live in fear anymore.”

Her glossa slipped from her intake, tracing a line of energon up the side of his face.

“And besides… this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

He vented sharply, optics narrowing into pinpricks. “You’re a monster.”

“Yes… I am.”

Her one servo stayed raised, blade poised at his throat to keep him from moving, and the other slid up his chassis to the Crest of his House emblazoned so proudly above his spark. Her talons flexed outward, hooking securely along the edges of the raised plate before tearing it away. He cried out as she did so, and pleasure slid through her lines at the sound. The pads of her digits pressed into the small hollow she’d just created, feeling the softer metal beneath. Again she crooked her claws, piercing, pulling. This time, the sound that escaped him was ragged and agonized, rattling in his vocalizer. She grit her denta together as she savored his pleas.

Time slipped away as she pried him open bit by bit, his feeble attempts to stop her growing weaker and weaker as she rent him apart. Once the sounds of his protesting had stopped, it was only the squelch of energon and the snap of wires that filled the space between them.

Finally, once she’d had her fill, she pulled his mangled corpse to the front gate. There, she strung him up like a puppet over one side of the door, suspended by his own fuel lines. With the little energon he had left in him, she smeared a message on the opposing slab.

Rise Up.

Stepping back, she took in the sight of him one final time before turning and making her way across the courtyard to the outer wall. There was still much work to be done.

Ugh, the talent!! 

Fun lil sketch commission for @helthehatter for their fic :3

... adjkduhdbeossndsp!!!?@$^"¥

Soooo, I started sketching some ideas of what some of the bots would look like with holo-forms, and it kind of escalated.

I finished this portrait of Megatron and I am pretty happy with how it turned out. I think I got his basic shapes down so it looks like him, and I also went from greyscale to color, which I have had a hard time with thus far.

I feel like he would wear nice suits because he couldn't afford to appear powerful in his earlier years- but no matter how he looked he will throw down. If he is in power, he will look like it.

I have another coming with Optimus, as a continuation of the sketch of @exileandtrust 's John, so I'll probably post that soon.

Would you guys like to see other bots as humans?

So that Season 3 finale