Okay time to post this girl, even if it’s just the initial messy planning sketch.
Fun fact, I actually came up with Malin before I shipped Megatron/Minimus… Megatron/Magnus… whatever they’re the same people. I was completely neutral on the ship, and then after a prompt for a pairing-based kid appeared in my inbox and one green bean later, I found myself warming up to it. And now here I am.
Malin is a stoic lil pistachio. Her sense of humor is almost not there, and what is there is so subtle that it can take a little bit for others to realize she made a joke. It might have to do with how she doesn’t smile or laugh or do anything that would indicate she’s finding what she just said funny. She’s unflinchingly deadpan and isn’t really outwardly intimidated by anything – not hard to understand when you see who her parents are.
And yes the bean was already posted over here with my other Lost Light baby beans!
Bonus doodles of Minimus/Magnus’ equivalent to a parent getting excited about being smiled at by their baby for the first time:
Vampires are feared everywhere, but the Balkan region has been especially haunted. Garlic has been regarded as an effective prophylactic against vampires. We wanted to explore this alleged effect experimentally. Owing to the lack of vampires, we used leeches instead. In strictly standardized research surroundings, the leeches were to attach themselves to either a hand smeared with garlic or to a clean hand. The garlic-smeared hand was preferred in two out of three cases (95% confidence interval 50.4% to 80.4%). When they preferred the garlic the leeches used only 14.9 seconds to attach themselves, compared with 44.9 seconds when going to the non-garlic hand (p < 0.05). The traditional belief that garlic has prophylactic properties is probably wrong. The reverse may in fact be true. This study indicates that garlic possibly attracts vampires. Therefore to avoid a Balkan-like development in Norway, restrictions on the use of garlic should be considered.
“Oh no,” the vampire said, tying the dinner napkin around his neck, “you smothered yourself in garlic?” Licking his lips as he pulls out salt and pepper shaker. “Whatever shall I do.”
Thor enjoyed the pleasant fragrances of Midgardian soaps. The one in the common-floor bathroom was labelled “Lavender Daydream” and was tinted a mild purple. It had a gentle floral scent with a slightly acrid undertone, and Thor wondered absently if Midgard had an actual plant named lavender, or if it was like blue-flavored drinks, with no non-artificial analogue. With Midgard, there was no way to tell. Regardless, it was a pleasing scent, and Thor would enjoy the soothing scent and gentle moisturizing properties of the liquid.
Midgard was such a fascinating world.
Thor toweled his hands dry and stepped out of the bathroom, intending to head towards the kitchen. Bruce had left some curry in the fridge, and Thor wanted to test his mettle against his perennial foe, the spicy pepper.
He took one imperious stride into the common room and tripped. He caught himself on lavender-scented palms, just shy of sprawling flat on his face on the carpet.
Sitting innocently in the middle of the hallway was Mjolnir.
Strange. He was sure he’d left his hammer on the sofa.
kingofmemes posted:
common room rules state that anything unlabeled is fair for anyone to use. shoulda put a sticky note on your mythological weapon of unimaginable power before you left it on my seat buddy
One thought, running through their minds and EM fields and
sparks, pulsing between them with everything that they had.
I have you. I am here.
I have you.
Slender frames pressed tighter together, plating scraping
and paint transferring, and they sobbed out
a delighted note as they slowly moved to lay down.
They’d driven until they were exhausted, then found a
relatively intact building, slammed every door they could find between
themselves and the outdoors, and wedged a cabinet against the door of the room
they were in. It wasn’t wedged very well, though, because they’d noticed a
berth and they only had one thought between them.
Touch.
They’d taken a moment to cling to each other before,
watching the security camera feed of their captor’s already-lifeless optics
outright dissolving before the feed fizzled out as the toxic gases ate into the
camera, but that hadn’t exactly been intimate.
This? This was desperate, the twins practically tackling
each other into the berth, but they were pressed so tightly together that they
might as well be-
The same thought flashed through their minds, and their
chassis armor parted in unison, outer and inner plating sliding aside until
their spark chambers met. They stayed like that for a long moment, panting at
the onslaught of sensation, arms wrapped tightly around each other as they
tried to adjust, and then-
They were split-spark
twins, after all. Inner plating whirred softly as it transformed, forming an
air-tight seal between the both of them, and outer plating clicked into place
to lock them together. Once it was safe, the final, inner barrier slid aside,
and energy leapt between them as their sparks trembled, reached-
And fused.
A complete merge was the most intimate act possible for the
Cybertronian species. The combination of two sparks, two beings, into one. Potentially dangerous – but not for them, never
for them. They had been born from the same spark, had been one for the first part of their lives. That was not true now, they
were two separate beings, but-
Their sparks remembered. It was nigh-impossible to
differentiate the two of them on scans, needing a sensitive enough scan to pick
out the tiny differences in frequency, which was why it was safe for them to do this. To merge so completely, with so
little preparation, and stay locked together.
They were together again,
truly, truly together, as they hadn’t been for centuries. And they could feel each other, feel familiar plating
under servos and thigh plating rubbing as they clung, feel each other’s
thoughts as if they were one. Because they were- their combined spark was pulsing steadily as one, their field had always been one unit, and their thoughts
were in unison as nowhere else.
They were together.
They were one.
They couldn’t stay that way. As good as it felt, they weren’t
one person, not really. They were one, but it was still them. Not him or her or xi or they, them. They were different, after all, in tiny places. And that-
that was good, too. They’d dreamed about being just one being, before, when it was
the most appealing thing in the world to be impossible to separate. But now,
well-
They were together. That was all they needed. So they stayed
together for a long time, rocking slowly together and holding each other close,
and then… withdrew. Slowly. Their sparks separated, their chassis plating
shifted to keep them covered as they arched away a short distance, and their
innermost plating slid back into place to protect their sparks. Their inner
plating also closed, but they kept themselves locked together by their outer
plating, purring quietly at the soft rubs between their inner chassis armor.
Slick, smooth- pleasurable. More than that, familiar. Incredibly familiar. It
was them. That was the only thing
that felt like this, was them, together,
safe.
It took them some deep venting to settle back into their
frames, as always. They had to collect their identities again. Scissors and Syringe.
Duo. Two as one.
Together.
When their optics finally opened, they were both grinning as
widely as physically possible, pushing their faces into each other’s shoulders
and biting softly. Affectionate, as always- tasting each other, dentae scraping
lightly over scratched paint, getting as close to each other’s throats as they
could without one of them letting go. Their arms were still locked around each
other, as well, a hug that blended the two of them together until it was
near-impossible to see where their frames separated.
No matter what, touch came first. Being together came first.
No matter how urgent the situation, no matter what they
needed to do or who was in the way or how much energon was on the floor, touch
always came first. A full-body press, at least, contact of plating against
plating, and more if they had even the slightest chance.
Touch and stroke and run
fingertips along each other’s frames, soothe hurts, re-familiarize themselves
with each other in the wake of everything that left new scars. Touch was all
they had- not their freedom, not safety, not respect, nothing else. Just touch,
when they were allowed it, and each other.
It wasn’t always something they were allowed. If they hadn’t
done well enough, if they gave in to exhaustion, they were kept apart. Primus
forbid one of them actually make a mistake, because then the other would be locked away and hurt, and they wouldn’t be allowed together again to try to make it
better until the mistake had been wiped away and the project vastly improved.
They spent a long time terrified of making mistakes.
And then… they were free. Their captor lay dissolving in the
bottom of a closet filled with enough toxin to down a legion, and they were
off, together, and free.
Touch.
That was, as always, their first priority. Find a safe place
and touch, merge, press together into one and hold each other close for as
long as they could.
Then, after that-
Raid a ruined mine. Find the massive drills, machinery meant
to carve out tunnels in rock, and take the laser emitters. The lasers had to be
downsized considerably for their purposes, but, eventually, they had a supply
of servo-held lasers that could cut through just about any barrier between them.
Sure, it would overheat, but that didn’t matter. The tool just needed to last
long enough to do its job, and its job was to cut down anything in their way.
Because nothing was
ever going to separate them again.
And they proved that, to themselves and to the world. The
first mech to try, a former guard of theirs, died messily as acid ate through
his spark chamber. The first wall to be placed between them crumbled and fell
under an onslaught of lasers meant to carve through miles of solid metal. The
same went for the next, and the next. Mechs who tried to order them apart were
threatened, those who tried to enforce it paid, those who kept trying died. Walls and doors and air vent covers alike caved
before them, and they stayed together.
Until finally, finally, they could stand not to be touching. Until they could stand on either side
of a table, not in reach of each other, and not start panicking. Until they
stopped flinching and reaching for each other if one of them made a mistake or
an experiment didn’t work out.
Because they were safe.
They were together.
They could touch, no
matter what, no matter what happened or how badly something failed.
Because nothing, absolutely nothing, could stand between them.
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