Tumgik
#sparkcasing
sparkcasing · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
in every and all forms, i love the Bumblebee
click for HD!
229 notes · View notes
cyberghost-scout · 1 year
Text
Ship information to revive my crops. Enjoy:
Sparkcase x Ghostwire:
I'm not going to sugarcoat this. Ghostwire and Sparkcase are the May-December romance. Though luckily, both were adults when their relationship started, thankfully.
They both have issues (Thanks to war). Sometimes those issues have strained things, but their bond grew stronger each time. And they start trying out different outlets to help confront not all but some issues: they have kids now (Adopted the twins and then their sparkling Nitrospark), and they don't want to hurt them unintentionally.
They both love to banter with each other. Sparkcase calls Ghost his little kitten, while the grey femme calls him old mech/dog. Sparkcase, in turn, would touch the part of ghostwire's helm that resembled cat ears and goes, "Mew mew mew. Is someone grumpy?"
Aldo, the headache Sparkcase's gets when someone tries to pry into his relationship with his wife. Yes, she's Goth- why are you persistent about her looks? Mind your own business. Look, Sir, the war is long over, so shut up.
Also, the bonding ritual was straightforward but very sweet.
(Sparkcase is from @kaonsilenthappenings )
3 notes · View notes
Note
TFP Megatron going into heat and becoming way more irritable and aggressive than usual. It's intimidating enough for other mechs' systems to be like, we know he's in heat, but if we approach him, he'll be crunching on our sparkcasings.
So they leave him alone.
Megatron, upon realising that no one on-board the Nemesis was stupid enough to approach him, decides to cause mayhem down on Earth.
Obviously, this draws in Optimus Prime.
And perhaps it's his heat that's making Megatron less deadly than usual, but Optimus manages to pin him to the ground and it's like his heat goes, yes.
Almost immediately that aura of don't you fucking dare touch me goes away and Optimus realises he's almost humping a suddenly very eager heatstricken mech and well his systems are all for it.
It leads to a very embarrassing conversation with Ratchet later, why he's covered in scratches and didn't answer any comms for days.
Exactly he's a menace in heat and this leads to most mecha having scared opinions on it
Megatron:
Megatron: wait I fucked up
Of course it's Megop time😁
Megatron is so down for it and Optimus for a flicker feels bad about what he's about to do and if he's going to betray his team or what.
For a flicker, anyway.
They were so worried for him until he came back, oh Optimus.
63 notes · View notes
Note
@cyberghost-scout
Ghostwire gasped, almost fumbling out of the berth from the adrenaline and physical movements. Her arms and legs were sprawled about. Optics was wide as dinner plates looked around as her fans were kicking into overdrive. Ghostwire noticed she was back into her and Sparkcase's berthroom, with their Conjux wardrobe placed neatly at the doorway, next to the calendar and clock.
Placing her servo onto her chest, "All that a dream...?"
Spark Case was currently getting up. His frame slowly moving as he made his way away from her. Heading to Nitros room with hurried steps. Stopping once he reached the sparkling.
That was a nightmare, Terror? Whatever it was...it was-
"Terrible." He uttered as he held Nitro close to him. "I'm sorry-you're safe." He knew Ghostwire was safe next to him. She was here still.
81 notes · View notes
nn1895 · 2 years
Text
AU August Fic 25
Mad Scientist
Most bots thought of science as chemicals in beakers or mad engineers building time dilation devices.
They all ignored the subtle science of cybertronian anatomy.  The danger in a well designed pede and the poetry of a perfectly sculpted bumper.
The perfectly sculpted bumper in front of him, put stars in Jazz’s optics.  It was a perfect mixture of sleek and tough, expertly designed to balance speed and ramming ability.  The curve alone!  
Jazz was not, however, blindsided by a perfect bumper to the point that he ignored the rest of the gorgeous, gorgeous anatomy.  
Where to start?  Top or bottom.  Heh, ‘bottom.’
The mech’s pedes were not pretty in the same way his bumper was, but the sheer craftsmanship that had gone into them was dazzling.  Jazz watched each tiny hydraulic cylinder compress as the mech shifted from pede to pede, the shaft pressing inwards with the weight and easing out as he lifted his pedes.  It must have been like walking on air.  The moving parts, spinning and pumping and cranking, were dizzying to watch.
As his optics moved upwards, Jazz could see the cables and sensors peeking out from behind the armor plating.  Each leg was thick - heavily armored and strung with thick and thin cables.  It allowed the mech the choice of powerful gross movement or delicate precision.  Jazz felt an ache in his digits - he wanted to stroke his servos over those smooth shinplates and up those round thighs…
His hips were very wide - perfect for resting weight on be it his own or a partner’s.  While the mech was in pursuit the hip joints would take the heavy pounding if he was running.  Whatever bumps weren’t compensated for by the hydraulic suspension in his pedes, would be evenly distributed over his hips to reduce vibration and damage to his torso and sparkcase.
It seemed wrong at first, for the waist to be so small and trim compared to the generousness of his legs and hips.  However, as Jazz stared looked he realized the narrow waist gave him nearly 180 degree bend and twist.  The armor around his central column was made up of many interlocking plates, creating a thick, but flexible shield.  Flexibility was always…good.
Jazz shifted and bit down hard on his thumb, trying not to imagine that flexibility too much.
His chest was broad and deep.  Jazz had heard him speak and it was like a rumble of thunder.  His shoulders obviously held a trio of missile each, if the lines in his plating was any indication.  Yet they were so smooth and polished, it seemed impossible that they could transform.  Jazz imagined the plating folding out like a flower as the weapons sprung forward, hot and charged and -
Oh, he might need to step outside.  Jazz tried to discreetly increase his fans and pressed his back against the coolness of the window behind him.
His chest was impressive, not counting that perfect, perfect bumper.
The helm was striking.  Plain white, rounded, with cheek guards.  A single adornment - a sharp, red chevron - was the only flash of color.
His face, well, Jazz had always had a thing for the stoic type.  Pale blue optics and a stern mouth.  A chin that looked like it had taken a few hits - which only intrigued Jazz more.
Behind him, held stiffly, were the ultimate temptations.  If rumors were true, those elegant, thick doorwings were sensor rich.  Jazz wanted to locate each sensor and give it the attention it deserved.  Preferably while the mech was pinned on his front -
“Thermal-Blend with sprinkles for Jazz!” called the barista.  
Jazz wasn’t sure if it was good or terrible timing.  He felt a step away from combusting and he had a feeling the crowded cafe would notice something like that.
He had to be careful in the colonies.  It wasn’t as easy to disappear.  He had to leave behind his old profession and his old skills.  Things like that wouldn’t go unnoticed here.  Such few bots made patterns easier to see.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he bumped into someone, holding his cube close to his chest so it didn’t spill.  He looked up.
Oh.  He didn’t think he’d get to study the bumped up close.
“It is alright.  You are new to this colony?”  
Jazz nodded, trying to keep his optics fixed on the other mech’s instead of letting them slip down to -
“Just left Cybertron last week.  Thought it would be a good change.”
“It is.  I am Captain of the Enforcers here.  If you need anything, you only need to ask.”
An Enforcer. Of course he was.  Built for combat and pursuit.  Scrap.
“Thanks.  We’ll probably be seein’ a lot of each other,” Jazz said, before his processor caught up with him.  He wasn’t supposed to be taunting the enforcers!
“Oh?”  The enforcer tilted his lovely helm.  “What is your function?”
Jazz looked the mech up and down as his processor ran a mile a minute.  Well, he had said he was going to go straight once he got to the colonies…
“Scientist,” Jazz said, leaning back against the door frame.  “I’m a scientist.”
6 notes · View notes
shatteredscope · 2 years
Text
Alleykitten || Closed
{{ @spymeister}}
[Mimi had escaped their carrier’s stern eye- mostly because said Carrier had fallen entirely asleep, Belladonna perched on his midsection and gently pawing at the still sore repairs to their carrier’s chestplating. Mimi gave a low trill, getting Belle’s attention before the newborn nodded- regal and stern even though she was still fairly fresh from the sparkcasing. 
Mimi bustled about- the temporary covers on her shortened legs making soft papping noises over the floor as she walked about and gathered the usual things: a swaddle blanket, a bag of snacks as well as a tapered cube, and the bodywrap used to carry the curious Belle.
And once her sister was settled against her back, Mimi set off with a soft purr- clambering about and wincing slightly when her leg nubs got a bit sore. They veered off, clambering into a vent and following it to a familiar place: the empty medibay rooms, rooms turned funeral directory once upon a phase sixer and the rooms Carrier hid in once during Symbiosis.
Mimi paused, eyes and needleteeth glinting green as she tasted the air- someone else was here.]
H’lo?
6 notes · View notes
vindictiae · 10 months
Text
He grunts as he straightens up, wrenching the blade out of the other mech's sparkcasing.
He feels a disturbance, frowning as he looks up into the inky sky.
0 notes
Text
@sparkcasing​
Prowl was charting a map. It was a mental map, but Prowl privately congratulated himself on it being a very exact and precise mental map of the whole of the Aldebaran “ark.” He hadn’t been inside every building or seen every tree, of course, and he was absolutely not taking this fragile hard light meat sack into the ocean because Primus below only knows what kind of awful animals might be down there. But aside from that, it was pretty good.
Now, he was heading back to his “home base,” if you could call it that. Prowl still hadn’t found any bugs or traps in the room he had woken up in, despite searching it thoroughly every time he returned, and as suspicious as this whole setup was to begin with, he was starting to believe that a bedroom sometimes is just a bedroom.
Still, the rest of the building was still suspect. He hadn’t forgotten all the strange gears he had seen waiting in the walls, and the place just looked creepy. The whole neighborhood was creepy. But at least he was on edge; there was nothing worse than being relaxed when a sudden problem cropped up.
Prowl was enveloped in all of these thoughts when he ran into a lamppost headfirst. He stumbled back, confused, and annoyed, and in a rather significant amount of pain for holomatter pain receivers, he thought. And it was then that he noticed a lanky human on the other side of the street. Prowl’s face twisted into a scowl. Hopefully they didn’t see that.
1 note · View note
pinkyhaert · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
🎄Blueberry’s Christmas Party! 🎄
{ Merry Christmas y’all! I come baring Christmas chibis to bring some cute Christmas spirit to some of my mutual friends! Hope you like em ^^ }
Ghostwire - @cyberghost-scout
Undex & Gala - @blubrown9637
Karai & buring passion - @askburningpassion
Sparkcase - @kaonacademyishere
Kane - @kanebp
SG Megatron - @towardspeace
Ivan & Sona - @ivanandrainfall45
Bluesteel - @magnetothehedgehog
Scarlin - @sleepy-star-sailor
Hunter - @speedartist-skyliner
36 notes · View notes
prixxofcuriousixx · 5 years
Text
Student Peers
@kaonacademyishere
Tumblr media
NID-0, or Nexus according to his student application and Team Prime, had no idea why Ratchet had him enrolled here.
Correction, he did, it was to help him learn more about the race he has supposed to be...
Easier said than done fpr the new cadet, currently he has walking down the halls to the Academy practice range to vent on how emotions a bit. A lot had happened. It seemed he had more time focusing on avoiding people rather than his studies as his test scores dropped significantly.
Right now in his current life he had been given plenty of flack for his appearance and inability to transform, because of those factors he has a disabled which made him a target for higher up students and it made him bitter and less and less sociable and more and more closed off and isolated. It got concerning to some faculty members.
Once at the practice range he finally set himself up on a meduim difficulty.
88 notes · View notes
witchofthesouls · 3 years
Note
Can I request a scenario where Mtmte Megatron opens its spark chamber to human s/o? I think it's very intimate
(Anon I’m sorry about this scenario. It’s medical emergency intimacy rather than emotional intimacy. This is pre-relationship status since I doubt Ratchet would allow SO to perform spark surgery on their partner.)
The most ironic thing about this whole situation is that you're the best, possibly the only, choice because of your organic nature.
You had studied and practiced until the upgraded maintenance gloves felt like a second skin and your dreams are filled with medical diagrams, practice dummies, and Ratchet’s sarcastic commentary and his dry wit. It continues until it can’t be held off any longer, and now you’re standing inside the isolation unit with Ratchet prepping Megatron’s still frame.
If it isn’t for the red optics glued to the ceiling, Megatron could be in a coma.
He can’t move, can’t talk, can’t even feed himself because of the rare techno-organic parasites that made their homes inside living mechanical races. In Cybertronians, these creatures bury into a sparkcasing and absorb energy directly from its host’s spark, leaving enough for the host to just… function. Not live. Simply function like a fully aware doll until they either starve out or the parasites slowly consume their spark for nutrition, too.
It’s a really horrific way to die.
You breathe evenly and watch Ratchet’s efficient movements, checking on the monitors for the vitals.
Megatron watches you. Everyone behind the safety line is watching you.
You’re focused on the bright, very green spark swirling in his chest, the warmth of his inner circuitry, the electric heat on your gloved hands. With well-practiced movement, you drift closer to the perimeter of the casing, hoping to at least catch one of the energy-draining parasites.
Nothing. Just the smooth panels. Warm and humming. The gloves pick up faint ticking and a low buzz, different from Megatron’s established patterns.
You relay that to Ratchet and he just confirms what you already knew: You have to go inside.
It’s careful, methodical motions; adjusting to the stray tendrils that curl up to your steady hands, lingering as long as possible. You ignore those flyaway strands of hair sticking to your forehead, everyone’s optics digging into your back, and just focus on the search. 
It’s almost comforting that Ratchet doesn’t speak as well. His own sharp gaze in Megatron’s exposed chassis, face dead calm. He makes no comment whenever your hands hold still or when you have to backtrack a specific area.
You wonder if it’s common for spark energy to try to wrap over a medic’s servos in close contact and for the tendrils to interfere with the sensors.
Megatron’s spark doesn’t beat like a human heart, not a lub-dub pattern, but it does flare in a rhythmic pulse. Its potent energy ghosts over you, almost lapping over the connective sensors and nervecircuits in the maintenance gloves. Something brushes your left hand, ticking loudly and vibrating strangely; you manage to loop it around your fingers and gently pull-
Megatron can't even twitch as a parasitic worm pops out with a strange audible gush; its prehensile body thrashing, gaping maw of contracting and clicking as it fails to bury into your flesh. You drop it in a specialized plasma container floating by the medical berth.
“One down. Two more to go.” You break the silence and let Ratchet’s quip roll over as you dip your gloved hands back inside, ignoring everyone’s optics and keeping steady even when spark energy licks up your palms and fingers. More insistently this time.
99 notes · View notes
sparkcasing · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
factions? factions are a plaything when you want resources..
click for HD, tumblr keeps destorying the qualityyyyy 😪
323 notes · View notes
cyberghost-scout · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
@kaonsilenthappenings
2 notes · View notes
transingthoseformers · 8 months
Note
Okay just a tiny bit of sparkling biology for Galvatron: Literal Hellspawn, just for fun.
To get a sparkling, two mechs need to interface and then sparkmerge up to a day afterwards, or so. Still a very small chance. Obviously, none of this is necessary if an evil deity decides to impregnate you with their possible heir.
Gestation time is fairly short, between one-two months. The sparkling is attached to the sparkcasing, soaking in the energy of the spark while it forms the most basic systems required for functioning.
And compared to their carrier, they're often tiny. You know the drawings of sparklings called beans? Basically soft blobs with no distinct features, basic optics. Rudimentary limbs. Beep beep.
Eventually they form the harder outer armour plating, proper limbs with actual fingers etc. Sparklings often require additional metals, but Unicronians are ravenous for it.
Physical maturity, as in they appear as full adults, take about five years. Mentally? It takes a lot longer. More individual. They're generally treated with more leniency.
Carriers and sparklings form extremely close bonds to the point that the shock of being separated can kill a young enough sparkling. Sires also form a bond, if they meet the sparkling, but not to that point. If a carrier bond is 10/10 on the intensity scale, a sire bond is like 8/10.
The bond does lessen in intensity as the sparkling matures, however. At full adulthood it's a faint presence, not really noticed unless you concentrate.
Bonus fact! It's considered way better if the carrier is not elderly exactly, but older. Human equivalent would be 50s, basically? Siring fits the young better. So Megatron would totally get some side-eye for getting sparked so young, even though he's not young.
.... okay word vomit and a bit of society I guess????
Oo okay that's a pretty fast development time!
It's adorable that they start out as practically living jellybeans like kangaroos do, that's always an interesting sparkling take that makes sense to me.
So with the bond Galvie is gonna have to be pretty damn close to Megs for the first little while isn't he?
I wonder why older carriers and younger sires are selected for (spark strength? Some sort of socially encouraged family set up??) because it leads to interesting situations like Megatron here who's younger than you'd expect but but not not like. Actually young.
9 notes · View notes
Note
I know the whole Sparkcase is gone sucks. I see you, Bud and Hollester. But I am scared about how Ghostwire and his son would react to that. Given how before the ambush, both had a nasty fight that left both hurt and in tears... the thought those last words were from an argument.
Hollester was tapping her face in a rhythmic manner. Her optics to the ground as Bud held his helm low.
"I'll...be hard. I just hope she won't lash out. Some bots do that." She lowered her voice greatly as she spoke. Hoping Bud had no overheard her words. That was how he reacted to things. Not that it was a good thing.
1 note · View note
dramamelon · 3 years
Text
A collection of ficlets written for MegaDrift Week 2021! OF WARS LOST AND WON Collection Summary: The relationship between Megatron and Drift has always been something more inscrutable than not, even to themselves. Prompt 1: The Cause/Badge Pairings: Megatron/Drift Characters: Megatron, Drift Rating: Mature Tags: Ficlet Collection, Minimal Editing, Chonic Pain, Mild Language Chapter Summary: Drift received more than a hole in his sparkcasing when he took his badge and it's followed him ever since. @megadriftweek
17 notes · View notes