purely for fun I was researching sparks and looking at similarities between individuals with the same type and I think I got something sort of like a Zodiac.
Ferrum Positive: These sparks have generally positive attitudes, but can tend towards pessimism or low self esteem. They are highly knowledgeable, but not quick to flaunt it, often awkward in romantic situations but make excellent friends. In their element, they are energetic and talkative, out of it can be reserved and anxious. At best they are kind, tolerant, and confident. At worst, self pitying and depressed. They are usually non-confronattional until pushed. (common body types: lots of kibble, evenly distributed bulk, usually low to the ground alt-modes.) bots I HC as F-pos: Bumblebee, Ironfist, Tarn, Waspinator, Breakdown, Lug, Fulcrum, Tesarus, Aileron
Ferrum Negative: Idealistic, romantic, can often be too concerned with outside opinions and factors. Heavily emotional, they tend to be destructive, moody, and awkward at their worst, and altruistic, kind, and passionate at their best. When not in their element, F-Neg sparks have a tendency to "mask" their true identities and personalities. When comfortable, though, they're the life of the party. (common body types: minimal kibble, moderate to light bulk)Bots I hc as F-Neg: Kaon, Dai Atlas, Shockwave, Tarn also, Firestar, Windblade, Brainstorm, Rodimus, Megatron, Atomizer
Isomeric Positive: Highly creative, I-Pos sparks have flow-chart like thoughts and big dreams that they attach themselves to, especially as a means of coping. While they may not be the most naturally empathetic people, they can read a room and they're not known as a whole to be unkind. At best, they're bombastic and inspiring, and at worst self centered, petty, and mean. They're often charming with big personalities and very original, these people don't care to run with the crowd. (common body types: moderate kibble, top heavy bulk)Bots I hc as I-Pos: Starscream, Elita-1, Prowl, Springer, Overlord, Terminus, Rumble/Frenzy, Snare, Fangry, First Aid, Fort Max, Mistress of Flame, Optimus Prime, Pyro
Isomeric Negative: Outwardly, these souls can come off as jaded and sarcastic, even bad-tempered at worst. But underneath that, Iso-Neg sparks are incredibly caring and more patient than one would give them credit for. They are also optimistic and hopeful, and do best in steady situations. (common body types: short, bulky, usually ground alt modes. These sparks aren't known for burning the strongest.)Bots I hc as I-Neg: Acid Storm, Ambulon, Soundwave, Ravage, Impactor, Chromia, Crankcase, Skywarp, Pyra Magna,
Vitreous Positive: These souls have a hard time coping with the past, and out of their element can be anxious and self deprecating. They, however, make great friends for their honest, excitable nature. While they might not always apply it to themselves, V-Pos sparks give good advice and have straightforward outlooks to life. They tend to show more confidence than they have, but they tend to be content with their reputation, and their self esteem benefits from it. (Common body types: lean, slim with top-heavy bulk, high-medium kibble, the most alt mode variant spark type.)Bots I hc as V-Pos: Nickel, Arcee, Minimus/Magnus, Anode, Rung, Spinister, Krok, Tyrest, Censerre
Vitreous Negative: Creative, eccentric, passionate, these sparks are jacks of all trades, and well liked for their flexible nature and friendly demeanor. In their element, they are energetic and quick thinking, with boundless imagination, even bordering chaotic. Out of their comfort zone, though, they might seem standoffish and aloof. At worst, they can be self righteous, rude, and condescending, but at their best V-Neg sparks are selfless, charming, and enlightened. (common body types: lots of kibble, top-heavy bulk, grounder alt mode) Bots I hc as V-Neg: Jazz, Pharma, Perceptor, Tarantulas, Misfire, Wheeljack, Thunderclash, Thundercracker, Wing, Velocity, Rotorstorm
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Ok so I got this odd idea when the LL crew got their holoforms and Bluestreak says to Rodimus "you sound different"- that line's always stuck with me. It could just be for whatever reason but I like to think it's because: cybertronians can't easily pronounce some things in Earth languages the way we do. Rod sounded different because he could actually SAY stuff in English easily.
Note that I said the way we DO and not the way we CAN.
Cybertronians can make some pretty soft noises, with effort. My best example is Prowl's signature "pfft." and how Chromedome can't seem to get the hang of it.
Cybertronian faces are malleable, but still metallic. They clank and they clang and they make very solid sounds. So like, imagine talking but without lips. A P becomes a T, a B becomes a D, F becomes S, and so forth. If you try hard enough, you can get your T to sound like a P without letting your lips touch at all (I tried for several minutes before figuring it out, you have to push your tongue, which cybertronians have, very high up), but it takes practice which explains like bots like Chromedome find it difficult.
A name like "Megatron" can be pronounced without lips using a really heavy, throaty "ng" sound (thing "ng" as in "hang" but you push your tongue all the way back like you're trying to swallow it, then push it forward REALLY fast as you say "ng" and it should come out a garbled "m").
Anyways so because they're bodies and faces are inherently metallic and tough, I headcanon cybertronians speaking Earth languages sounding kind of like somebody who learned to speak without lips.
(Cybertronians probably love Euskara for this reason! I just said "Kaixo, arratsaldean. Nongoa zara? Cy(d)ertron goa naiz. Zein da zure izena?" Without my lips touching once. In English "hello, good afternoon. Where are you from? I'm from Cybertron. What's your name?" My lips touched about 6 times.)
Synopsis: With the verdict of the trial looming over head, and the fact that humans don't live that long, you decide there isn't any time to lose, and to make things official with Megatron while you still have the chance.
(contains original poetry written with love, and conjunx ritus! :^D )
Notes: kaixo i wanna marry Megatron and nothing will stop me. also if you didn't catch it the title is a play on political/philosophical treatises being often called "On ______".
While Megatron was at a meeting, you had hit the bar. It was one of your favorite spots on the ship, right next to windowsill down the hall. You sat atop the counter, listening to Rewind and Chromedome spin you a tale about Prowl. They brought up that their story happened around the time they'd just gone through with conjunx ritus. You perked up at the unfamiliar term. Conjunx Endura you were familiar with,however, you had never heard of the former.
“Uh, sorry, alien here. What's Conjunx Ritus?” You piped up, awkwardly raising a hand.
“It’s the steps bots take to become conjunx endurae.” Chromedome replied, his partner nodding in agreement. Ok. Robot marriage proposals.
“There are acts to it, four actually. Act of Intimacy, Act of Disclosure, Act of Profference, and then the Act of Devotion.” Rewind added. Cybertronian culture and customs were fascinating, you had always thought that, but the nature of this sparked a particular interest. You tentatively took the risk of pressing a little further.
“Okay, so Intimacy, what is that? I mean I know what that is to humans but, uh…” You trailed off, face burning. You felt awfully gauche for asking, but it was a valid question. What was intimate to a human might be different than what was intimate to a cybertronian.
“Prolonged contact. It is what you make of it.” Chromedome tilted his helm down to his and Rewind’s interlocked fingers.
“And Act of Disclosure is basically sharing something about yourself; something personal that usually doesn’t paint you in the best light. Profference is a meaningful gift, and the last part, Devotion, is done by the bot the initiator is courting.” Rewind took the wheel on the explanation. You wondered who had initiated their rite. Rewind’s lively personality made sense for him to take the reigns in things, but you could see Chromedome be more willing to open his heart to him. “If they accept the rite, then they perform an act of selflessness. Something that really shows the other they love them.”
“I see, thanks you two.” You nodded earnestly and for the rest of the story, couldn’t help but fidget. The second they finished, you made haste in excusing yourself. You didn’t tell them, but were going to speak to Megatron asap.
“You know they’re going to-”
“Yeah, I know. I figured it was better that they asked us than, I don’t know, Whirl or something.”
Megatron and you had been a thing for a while now, and there was… a lot to be said about that. Not that you cared anyways, you knew what you were getting yourself into, and you had no regrets. Life, you had figured, was too short for regrets. You with your miniscule human lifespan, couldn't afford to be held back by any shame or fear. Your only option was to shoot your shot. Which you did, and we're planning to do once more.
Megatron had a dark history. His faction had carried out acts of hatred towards your kind, but he has since renounced the ideology he once led with a blazing banner. The moment he met you, the Lost Light’s human liaison, he commited one last act of murder: He held technoism ideology under the water until it stopped thrashing. Guilt had fueled him to avoid you, but you extended friendship towards him. And thus he befriended you. Time passed and friendship turned to fondness. Techoism had its grave defiled.
Still, you figured that he still may never truly be comfortable with human customs, despite his newfound respect for them. You took it from the strange, wide-eyed look he had given a proposal during some cheesy romcom at one of Swerve’s movie nights you’d dragged him to. However, you were ready to compromise, and were more than fascinated by this cybertronian equivalent. Fascinated enough to follow through with it while you had the time in this life to do so.
“Megatron?” You heard the hab suite door slide open and heavy steps trod in.
“Surprisingly.” He replied, a smile crinkling the worm edges of his crimson optics. At the sight of him enveloping the space in the room, you grinned. Seeing him approach was like watching a sunrise.
“Megatron I… I have a question.” You scampered towards the edge of his desk. He sat down and offered you his hand to climb onto.
“Yes, little one, what is it?” He lifted you gently to his shoulder and began filing a report.
“Have you uh,” You paused, reading the dry statement over his shoulder. “Ever gone thought about becoming conjunx endura? I was, um, learning about conjunx ritus earlier.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs and tucking yourself against his armor plating. He froze, his typing stopping short and you could hear the mechanisms in his optics dilate as his eyes widened.
“I…. (y/n),” He scooped you up carefully from his shoulders and held you in front of him in large servos. The old mech looked shocked, full of hope and disbelief. “Do you even know what that entails?”
You nodded slowly, staring up at him. His eyes were wild, and you could glimpse the bloody war that raged on behind them. You felt his guilt and the deep set disgust towards himself all clashing with an aching longing, and the thrill of what you were proposing. The battle between what he wanted and what he felt he deserved was unending.
“I do. I’ve thought it over a lot, actually, I’ve thought long and hard about it but I realize… I realize that I don’t really have to? I already know what I want. If that’s something you’d be okay with, I’m ready as soon as you are.”
His stunned stare descended into a chuckle, like he’d just understood a joke. He seemed merely amused by your offer, as if deciding that you simply didn’t know the gravity of what you were saying. Just a silly human; as usual, not knowing what you were talking about. You hated more than anything when bots thought that about you, and you only wilted more as he looked away.
“(Y/n), I don’t know how you think I deserve you.” He rasped, his voice heavy, and the foundations beneath your feet began to falter. You squeezed your partner’s thumb, both as to balance yourself and comfort him.
“Megatron, look at me.” You sighed, standing taller in determination. He did as you said, the worry lines above his brow deepening as he peered down at you. “I know you. You must think that I don’t because I haven’t... I don’t know, fled? Is that what you think I’d do? Flee? Megatron, I want you to understand that I saw the worst of you before I even met you, and I still find myself here, asking you to ma- to be my conjunx. Please, you don’t have to be afraid. You know we both don’t have the time to.”
He was stunned. His deep silver lips hung open in shock and awe. You kept a face of resolve, until it faltered into concern, and after more excruciating moments of silence, fell limp into a piteous frown. The sting of rejection had began to sink into your chest.
“(Y/n).” His deep voice jolted you to reality. “Are you sure?” It was all he could say.
“Yes.” It was all you needed to say.
This was incredibly taboo.
Two days after your conversation with Megatron and you were hauling a sack containing a datapad down the halls of the Lost Light. You didn’t want to try too hard, but you couldn’t help wanting to make yourself look presentable. You decided a tie was far too formal, but a blazer? That’d work. That and some slacks, and the nicest shoes you’d saved from home. You had combed your hair back. Then forward. Then back again as you couldn’t pinpoint which looked better. Looking decidedly sharp, you timed the start of your trek with the end of Megatron’s shift.
You passed Rodimus by down the hall, and he spun on his heel, and walked instead beside you.
“(Y/n), you look nice! Any particular reason?” There was an edge to his voice, and the force behind his smile was more audible in each syllable.
“I’m bringing this datapad to Megatron.” It wasn’t a lie, that was what you were doing, but you could tell by his tensed grin that it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Really! Because he was looking really nice today too. He buffed and everything, did you know that? Hm?” He bent down as he talked down at you.
“Really? Huh.” You smiled to yourself, giddy that Megatron had decided as well to, in the cybertronian equivalent, dress for the event, and for you.
“Okay, (y/n), seriously, what’s going on?” Rodimus stopped with with his pede. You glared and walked around it.
“Rod, chill.” You sighed. His wings perked in indigance.
“Don’t tell me to chill! You know I hate being told to chill!” His fists snapped to his hips. You groaned, turned around.
“Rodimus, please, I’m going to be late. I really want to be on time for this. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I don’t want to keep him waiting.” You pleaded, your feet tapping in soft impatience. He gave you a scrutinizing squint, but yielded.
“Okay, fine. But later? I want to know what’s going on.” He huffed and continued down the halls. You did as well, making haste towards hab suite 113.
The gargantuan doors slid open for you at the press of a tiny button installed at the foot of the entrance. He had been pacing, and stopped in his tracks to turn to you. Rodimus was right, he looked breathtaking. His dark gray armor was clean and robust, and the dim lights of his room haloed around him.
He didn’t look too much different; you honestly might not even had noticed if it hadn’t already been pointed out. The change was so very subtle, but that only further delighted you. He still looked authentic. He still looked like himself.
“Hi love, sorry to keep you waiting.” You chirped, and slid the bag underneath his desk for later. You approached him, and he took you in his hands to his seat in the corner of his room.
“No need to apologize,” Megatron sat down and placed you delicately down on the windowsill. The window was round and uncomfortable to stand upon, but it didn't matter; you were reclining between his thumb and fore digit anyways.
“You look nice tonight.” You said, nestling in and giving his hand a kiss. The mech smiled.
“As do you, my dear.” He chuckled, the tip of his finger nudging at your polished shoes. “Fancy choice in clothing, what's the occasion?”
You grinned in response, shifting in his servo.
“You.” You replied simply, earning another rumble of laughter from the mech. When he laughed, pride was not the word you were looking for.
You leaned forward, sitting up and the intent in your body language compelled the mech to bring you close to his face. He brought you near, to listen to any secret you'd whisper or question you'd ask or… Or to receive a kiss you'd place on a set of lips that nearly measured your wingspan. Megatron suddenly found himself wishing he’d mass displaced to a form small enough to be able to return the gesture.
It was chaste, but loving; and when you pulled back to stare up at him, you looked nothing short of enraptured.
“I really hope one day you could feel half as loved as you are. I don't know how to say it any other way, I just… adore you. I know how you think you don't deserve it, I hear it in how you speak, I read it in the words you write.” You stood in his hand to look him in the eyes and press your forehead to his. “But we're both on borrowed time, and while we're both here, I want us to be happy.”
You heard the distinct clicks and whirrs of Megatron’s bodily mechanisms, the sound and feeling of his servos trembling underneath you, and his optics shut beneath knitted brows.
“But, before that, can I tell you something… less than happy?” You leaned back into his hand and he opened his eyes, nodding as he pursed his lips, a shaky exvent escaping him.
“Something happened once. It was, gosh how many years ago was it… (X) years? (Y) years…? (X) years, I don't know, it was a long time ago for me at least. At least, it felt like it. You know how it is for humans. Whenever it was, I remember one thing: It was my fault it happened.” You rubbed a hand over his wrist, fondly tracing the seams of his servos. You didn't bother to steel yourself for this story; this was meant to be vulnerable. This was meant to be intimate.
You couldn't keep from crying as your story came to fruition. The deep vulnerability cut you open by the belly and you were helpless to spilling your guts. The bruising shame flowered through you, but you laid it all out before him. You forced yourself not to turn away from him as you spoke, and you saw the deepest pits of your soul reflected back at you in a kaleidoscope.
“I felt disgusted with myself, I still do,” You gulped, blinking back the tears that blurred your vision. “But I realize I can't do anything to change what happened. No matter how I say the story, it doesn't change its meaning. I have to live with it. I have to live with knowing I could have done something about it, but I gave up. I was scared and fickle and stupid.”
You grimaced you rubbed your eyes, the low burn of raw skin making you squint. You took a deep, ragged breath, rubbing comforting circles over Megatron’s shaking servo below you.
“I’ve felt like that for a while but… It’s different with you. I’m not scared. I’ve never been more devoted. And…” You smiled up at him. “I think meeting you was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. You’re genuinely the best part of my life, I can’t begin to tell you how much I love you, and… Do you wanna let me down real quick?”
Quickly Megatron nods and helps you to the floor. Feeling his stare on your back like a spotlight, you rush with your heart in your throat to his desk.
“I feel like I put it better into writing.” You sniffed and chuckled. “Here, I made this for you.” As he lifts you and the offering to eye level, you uncover the datapad. Megatron glanced at you, then the gift, and pressed a gentle kiss to your teary face before slipping the tablet out of the covering. He cleared his throat.
“May I?” He murmured, and you nodded. He smiled, deepening the creases in his aged face. The mech gazed softly then at your writing in his servo, his low lidded optics two warm, red eclipses. He took to reciting your poem in a gentle rumble you could feel like distant thunder in your bones.
“To Which The Sun Does Set.
Go nearer now, with earnest great
To where the sun does set.
Come to me all bound in fate,
The same as when we met.
Though change daily we might,
As many phases mold its face
High silver metamorph of night
Thus may retain his former grace.
And may he exude it during quest
Marching onward, onward yet
His hand in mine we gently rest
In the place which the sun does set.”
Megatron fell silent, the final stanza falling from him and descending into the ambient hum of ship engines.
“(Y/n),” He croaked. “This is incredible. You’re incredible.” He lifted you closer to him, and you stood eagerly to meet the deep sweeps of his lip plating. He took to peppering tender kisses atop your head, dipping then below your chin. You stifled a squeal as lips nudges your chest and stomach. It tickled, and you couldn’t help but jolt helplessly and laugh against his smile.
“I love you so much.” He murmured into your torso, his aquiline nose snug atop your shoulder. You hugged his jaw, grinning deeply with your cheek pressed to his. You returned words of adoration, and heard the slight click of his optics closing completely. He held you there for what felt like an eternity, the deep drum in your chest in sync with the pulsating of his spark.
You thought at this moment you’d be scared, or relieved that the hardest part was over. He accepted your disclosure and your profference. But instead, you found yourself immersed in the sound his ancient sentio metallico made as you ran your palm over his cheek.
You felt him shift and you stood back as he pulled away to look at you.
“Can I take you somewhere?”
You nod.
Sitting safe upon his shoulder, you watched the hallway lights pass by in tune with the heavy clunks of Megatron’s footsteps. A few mechs passed by, offering the greeting of disgusted grimaces and hateful whispers. For the first time, you didn’t hear them. If Megatron did, you couldn’t tell. He was busy keeping his eyes forward, his expression kind and focused.
He slowed to a stop, and you heard curious muttering down the halls. You were lifted from his shoulder and placed onto none other than your favorite spot on the ship. The largest window with the widest ledge. The windowsill was broad enough for you to stand comfortably on- hell, you could dance on it if you wanted. Not to mention the best part was the view: always of the brilliant cosmos. It thrilled your inner stargazer to be able to watch the stars and planets pass by.
You scampered down from Megatron’s servo, stopping yourself with a palm against the glass, turning around to see the glowing pepper of galaxy reflected against his chrome frame. This view beat that of the universe by a landslide. As The Lost Light traveled through space, it passed by a red dwarf star, and the corridor flooded in florid hue.
“(Y/n),” Megatron’s gravelly voice whispered down to you through the scarlet haze. “Decades ago, I’d never had been able to fathom myself doing this. But my spark, I know, was forged to be yours. I love you, and I love your humanity . And I know all the questions on my mind, you are the answer to. But I have but one more inquiry, and I’m certain only you can answer this for me.”
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Now that we covered how mentoring differs between forged/cc bots, let's see how it differs by class
Flight class: Young flyers are most often raised by trines. They get exposed to 3, usually extremely different, styles of parenting from each. It's seen as good mentoring to have very different mentoring styles in seeker culture, as it "builds character" among the youth.
Disposable class: Disposable class bots create packs! One singular mech will raise an apprentice, then when they mature they help raise the next one and so on. They original mentor leads the group, and sometimes apprentices will branch out to start their own packs. Because they're packs they do have alphas and omegas, but in a more literal sense. The "alpha" is literally "the beginning" and is the title given to the original mentor, and not really a rank although the alpha does, because they're considered the elder, have seniority over the pack. Omega, meaning "the end", is the title given to the youngest. Omegas are not a rank, just the youngest; all apprentices are considered of equal status.
Scientific class: Young bots in the scientific class as well as the medical field have no mentors but instead have protobatch initiators! These bots are like private school teachers rather than parents, and teach them in classes everything they need to know about life and their line of work. They start off as general classes about how to walk/talk/etc, but as they grow up they become more advanced and specific to their field.
Manual class: Mechs whose job is manual labour, like miners and such, have communal families. Assignments in this class are heavily regulated by mine owners, foremen, and other superiors. Young bots are still assigned to specific mentors, but all mechs in the area pitch in to raise the apprentice. Usually, the more qualified of mechs will be given multiple apprentices over time, but if they're already assigned the maximum of two at a time, the apprentice will be given to a different mech. Because of the busy nature of their work and poor working conditions, mentorship isn't as sought after and many apprentice's are assigned to their mentors against their will. (In human terms this is much less of a forced pregnancy and much more of a "here's a toddler bye" situation, just wanna clear that up)
Intellectual class: The Intellectual class is rarely one a mech is born into, as they usually obtain that status via some sort of arrangement/boone granted by existing members but, in the rare case that they are, it's usually as a status symbol itself. These youngsters are assigned to a rich, powerful, famous mentor who acts as mainly a public figurehead for them, and are actually taught and raised by a private initiator. These are the cybertronian equivalent to a Governess. They first imprint a rare, upperclass alt mode from their mentor, and then are given almost fulltime to their initiator.
I missed the opportunity to call the second one Dumb MTMTE Headcanons 2: Electric boogaloo. Also my ask is now open u guys can send hc requests.
anyworms
- Vos really likes the Duolingo owl
- nobody knows how he even found out about it but it's like his comfort character or something now. He loves it. He draws himself hanging out with it in blood
- Hoist just wants to go to Hawaii ok
- Getaway says he's "not like other mechs"
- Swerve plays Dream Daddy
- Ultra Magnus does too but you didn't hear it from me
- Whirl and Swerve both love cosplay
- Whirl is actually surprisingly super good at it, he's cosplayed as Lara Croft, Coraline, and Leeloo... And Vriska
- Tailgate is scared of bees
- Megatron's taste in earth music is uh. "diverse".
- By that I mean his listening history has Absolutely No Fuckin Correlation
- He said Wonderwall was good once and Rodimus and Swerve never let him live it down
- It's a front because they both like it too
- They all know who James Roberts is
- They don't talk about him
- Helex cries when people yell at him
- They usually get bitten in half before he does tho so nobody knows that
- Getaway doesn't actually like astrology but he says "sorry I can't help it I'm a Gemini"
- He's actually a Scorpio but Gemini is his rising sign
- Riptide downstairs understand any of the metaphors in Vance Joy's Riptide but he's flattered there's a popular song with his and anyways
Liaisons who board the LL as a group and start bursting into song at random times (you know when someone says A Word and then somebody quotes a lyric and pretty soon everybody's singing? That)
Liaisons who put on shows at open mic night. Liaisons who know acapella numbers. Liaisons who reenact whole scenes and even productions. Pls give me multiple singer/performer liaisons aboard the Lost Light.
