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#lost light imagines
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Hello, can I request mtmte Megatron getting kissed by his drunk bot s/o for the first time in public? ( I mean they kissed before but never in public )
Ohohohoho you certainly can.
It was a lovely evening.
You were a few drinks in, but didn't appear to be more than pleasantly buzzed, moving about the crowd with ease and laughing with friends. As usual, he was off to the side and out of the main body of the crowd, to give them all some peace of mind. No one was really able to relax in his presence, save for you...
Thus, when you approached, he was delighted to have a bit of company, especially yours. Though no one knew, the two of you were very close. It had simply never seemed the right time to "announce" that you were together.
All of this made your sudden decision to lean down and plant a most unexpected kiss on his lips quite the surprise.
There was a wave of silence as a packed bar pretended not to see, but he was quite well aware that just about everyone had been witness to the display of affection. Those that hadn't would know soon enough. It was going to be out in the open now, that you were dating him of all bots. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine why you would want anyone to know.
You didn't appear to care at all. If anything, the shock only made you look proud of yourself. That's right... your optics seemed to boast. He's mine, and I'm his.
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keferon · 5 months
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Okay haha this is probably the laziest comic I ever did, BUT JUST CONSIDER
The quintessons arc from Cyberverse. But mixed with idw comic canon. Instead of Brainstorm/Perceptor or Deadend&Perceptor we can have all three of them & whatever stupid nonsense they can create
Don’t really know if I want to continue this thing. Eh. We’ll see
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lazyhomestay · 4 months
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"You are the living embodiment of the Decepticon ideal and are merely a step away from completely embracing it."
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wifetomegatron · 7 months
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Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone.
based on this post because this is just too tempting to not write about, we must sound like debutants making their first appearance in fashionable society speaking in skittish whispers and sighs all the time when in reality organics speak in different octaves and wavelengths. definitely self indulgent cause me and my friends do this.
Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone. In a ship full of battle-weary, pessimistic, cybertronians desensitized to almost everything, that single drop of warmth coming from a human whose touches feel like silk — feather light and alien, would be enough to make them putty in your presence.
The last time Brainstorm received a — " How clever, Brainstorm, thank you for your help." He had nearly popped a circuit trying to come up with a reply, stunned silent for what Perceptor claimed was the first time he was without one of his usual snarky remarks. Then it was Swerve, who wouldn't shut up about how you had called him 'darling' — Skids was adamant to prove to him that it was just how you spoke to people, even if the theoretician himself had his chest puffed out from being called 'dear'.
Then there was the time that you had scolded Whirl for nearly stepping on you, voice still painfully tender in comparison to the mechanical lilt of metal vocalizers —" Ooop! Careful there, handsome!" You had jumped, swerving just in time before his pedes crushed you. And the watchmaker froze, with a single optic pinning you in place. Then Drift had to chase him down several hallways, yelling that he wasn't allowed to just pick you up and run off.
An intervention was needed when a group of mechs were sent down a Decepticon outpost and returned with injuries. Apparently, everyone wanted to be pat on the arm and have you crooned — " Oh, you poor, brave thing" to them. With your brows knitted in worry, lips pout and slightly parted as they tell you all the heroic things they did. ( Ultra Magnus wasn't too impressed when said intervention from Rodimus was just a plot for him to cut the line and show you his battle scars. Someone in the back of the line had yelled that he wasn't even scratched. Judging from the infighting brewing, it was most likely Whirl.)
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 3 months
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Vaggie: So.
*casually takes the jacket off Charlie and wraps it around her own waist*
Vaggie: Can you dance?
Charlie: Oh I dance pretty girl- pr-pretty gay. Pretty good! Good! Dance good, pretty good girl- I DANCE PRETTY GOOD!!!
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inhan---inhan · 7 months
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robotclownindulgence · 7 months
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13eyond13 · 9 months
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a headcanon I just realized I have is that Light often has a lot of trouble living in the present moment and L often has a lot of trouble NOT living in the present moment. Light is a huge planner and forward thinker and accustomed to grinding through unpleasant current circumstances in order to achieve optimal future results. L is very keen on living for today and whatever is currently tickling his fancy and giving him the most excitement and pleasure and challenge, and prefers not to dwell heavily on the future nor the past. And I think that both of them normally feel uncomfortable and resentful if they are forced to do the opposite of what they are normally accustomed to doing.
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numbbrainstrorm · 2 months
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I hate how they made Whirl sane in Cyberverse
Like c'mon Ik it's a kids show but goddammit :c at least make him a bit crazy
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Idw Whirl would NEVER be that sane
Whirl would Murder everyone and everything
If you can make perceptor smart make Whirl at least crazy
Like this is Whirl
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VIOLENT
He would take out quintessons himself
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space-payacho · 3 months
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wrote something extremely short based on my old post
reader uses she/her pronouns. reblogs and feedback appreciated!
It started on the first day. Rumors going around on this new “liason” for the lost light. Human to be exact. Mixed reactions. Some excited. Some curious. Others found it a hassle, cause why a human right? 
Up until the day she stepped in. only those like the captain, co captain and ultra magnus personally were introduced to her. 
Rodimus took a liking to her right away. He dint know why. Maybe because he was excited to have a human on board. Maybe because she dint seem to disrespect him and look at him as a slacker. 
Quite the opposite to him it looked like she seemed interested to meet him right?
Ultra magnus liked her. He’s seen her resume. Organized and no issues whatsoever. Someone he can rely on when it comes to reports turned in correctly and on time. Plus she had manners. 
Megatron…he picked up something else but he couldn't tell what it exactly. Sure he had the same opinion as Magnus. Yet looking at her..looking at those particular eyes..of all the times he’s taken a look at humans back in his warlord days, he’s never seen eyes like that. 
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heart-of-a-rebel16 · 6 months
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we all talk about how cool it is that Kallus is part of a Lasat prophecy (because it obviously is), but I feel that no one talks about the objectively hilarious fact that Hondo is also part of that prophecy
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had this Idea where the human liaison does like every other week they wear an outfit that was inspired by the bots and doesn't tell anyone who they are wearing.
Finally, after countless weeks if not months of this, the bots convince the liaison to tell them with a bit of a fashion slideshow created by Rewind. It has a picture of every outfit, and there will even be a little game. Bots will place bets on each picture, and those who guess right most often win the game. There's quite a lot of fuss to get everything in place, then the big night arrives...
"Who's this?" Rodimus begins at the first image projected on the wall, which shows liaison in a Hawaiian shirt and massive shades. Most of the crew anticipate the answer accurately.
"Swerve."
The barkeep is flattered, and the first winners get excited for more.
"How about this one?" is asked regarding a most orthodox and uncomfortable outfit of military precision, down to a pair of massive fake shoulder pads. Yet again, the bets are mostly accurate.
"Ultra Magnus; those shoulder pads were pricey."
Though he scowls, the big mech is admittedly touched you thought of him.
Rodimus brings up the harder ones and things get interesting, especially when the photo of the liaison in vibrant 80's memorabilia is brought up. The Captain is already quite aware of the answer, and beams when it is confirmed.
"Rodimus."
You go through so many more, all of varying but increasing levels of absurdity. There's a full black skintight ninja suit for Drift, a sloppy pair of scrubs for Ratchet, and even a purple scuba outfit for Nautica and so many more. Things start getting tense as victors begin to emerge in the betting pools, but it all comes down to one final outfit... The one almost no one could guess with any kind of certainty.
"Alright, here's the big one..." Rodimus said to quiet the crowd, all optics on the screen as he encouraged Rewind to click over.
It was a dress, and a swan or perhaps a goose, all at once, wrapped about the liaison as they strutted about the ship with all the confidence of a supermodel. It flummoxed them now as much as it did then. The liaison didn't react beyond a touch of confusion at all the uncertainty.
"You can't tell?" they asked, earning a chorus of frustration that only made them laugh. Taking a sip of their drink, they merely shrugged and explained what they thought would be obvious.
"Whirl."
A table was flipped and a towering mech pumped his claws in absolute jubilation, single optic shining bright in victory as a sea of losing betters bitterly handed over the pot.
"I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU ALL!"
For those of you who don't know...
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Recalled how you have posts related to Swerve having a jessica rabbit like conjux and all I can think of is Blurr being gobsmacked when swerve introduces him to his conjux. (Conjux also makes a quiet threat to blurr saying they'd break his legs if they hurt Swerve in anyway)
Bonus points if prior to learning that they are Swerve's conjux, Blurr tries to hit on them but they straight up tell him he's not their type. He asks them, well, what is their type then?
And in walks Swerve, stumbling over his feet, stains on his hands from when he was working, a goofy smile on his face and calling out "sweetie pie!"
Blurr can't believe he lost to that.
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captainhysunstuff · 1 year
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27 more images beneath the cut:
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Part one of their date:  A mid-afternoon lunch with varying levels of awkwardness.
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wifetomegatron · 6 months
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an alchemy of ore & eu de parfum : how i imagine cybertronians react to human perfume (afab!reader) (nsfw!)
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most of the lost light crew only knew about it in passing. rumor was that before the war, the wealthy would import organic plants from off-worlds to extract their oils: steam distillation, boiling, maceration. of course, it wasn't very popular when the planet's atmosphere lacked the proper gases. without volatile elements in the air like oxygen, the exotic scents hardly smelled like anything. it didn't stick against their armors the way it clings onto organic skin. so it became a short-lived experiment that barely dented the surface of the planet's long history of achievements. mechs, trying to replicate organic perfume. it sounded ridiculous.
until perceptor caught a whiff of it: phantom light, brushing against his olfactory sensors. he lifted his helm, finally compelled to tear his optics away from the datapad to look at the human liaison. he inhaled experimentally, failing to be discreet. embarrassed, you tell him it's the new bottle of body wash you've tried: a mixture of wild violets and pink hibiscus. do you like it?  he thinks of strange fragile flowers, drifting under the wind. perceptor nearly missed the question, slowly nodding as you leaned closer in worry. it took the mech a lot of self-restraint to not pull you flush against him when the new, alien fragrance hits him square in the chassis like a bullet.
minimus drags his human's wrist across his intake, peppering light kisses along the skin. it was where the sweet, smoky odor was strongest, luring him closer. with you sprawled across his lap: trembling, laughing at the ticklish sensation, minimus couldn't contain the small, helpless groan that escaped him. shamelessly tipping your chin down to press your lips against his. the fragrance of mandarin and jasmine, crowding the space between your bodies.  the scientist hovered above your shoulders, mouthguard grazing the junction where your neck meets your jaw. brainstorm tightened his grip against your wrists, pining it above your head. he wants to melt into you, to drown in the overwhelming scent of amber. tyrax, benzoin; he knows they're just a cluster of chemical reactions coming to life along the curve of your collarbones. bonds breaking and fracturing to release something tangy, saccharine. but you're telling him that bulgarian rose, sandalwood — foreign, outlandish names of floras he'd never heard about before was making you smell celestial ? he was the universe's biggest heathen, but primus, save him. you were wiggling underneath his frame, back flat against the pristine table. he says he wants to run a few experiments, noticing how your pupils respond by widening, skin prickling with excitement. 
he's trying to be gentle, servos encasing your hip to lower you down his spike. megatron watches as you take him, inch by inch. with your back pressed against his chest plate, he could feel the thrum of his spark against the line of your spine as it bows and curves in pleasure. as you spread your legs further to sink further, he rewards you with a kiss — brushing your hair aside to press his intake against the pulse point beneath your ear. and he tastes it, or rather, breathes it in. he didn't need to, but when your sweat mixes itself with the perfume you always wore: bergamot and peony, he inhales and loses himself even more.
the habsuite reeked of sex, and it crowded the air: humid and heavy, whirl's optic nearly offlined at how obscenely wet you were around his spike. already drunk on your pheromones. so when he lifted both your legs higher — up to his shoulders — to fit himself up to the hilt, whirl didn't expect to catch a whiff of your perfume around your ankles. you whined, a high-pitched, desperate sound, when he stopped thrusting to press his enstril against your achilles heel. that was enough for him to snap. he hoisted you up into a mating press, driving into you with a new kind of vigor. 'you did this on purpose', he emphasized by roughly grabbing your ass to push further into your already trembling cunt. causing you to moan into the dark. 'you knew we'd end up here. like this. filthy, little —'
sicilian mandarin and citrus musk. you made a mental note to yourself to wear the combination around your lover more often.
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a/n : for @robot-horde because you're brilliant and left a comment on the tags of this post and it just inspired me to make more.
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khaliundazkar · 8 days
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[Stormblood] Doma Castle
Khal and his siblings do not recognize each other. Khal doesn't know that they were conscripted by the Garlean forces that destroyed their home. He doesn't even remember he had siblings. But, for reasons unknown even to himself, Khal stays his hand, and two Auri soldiers escape Doma Castle with their lives.
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