prowl/mesothulas with mesothulas getting prowl to sleep in late with him 🥺🥺
Prowl already felt uneasy resting in Mesothulas's berth. He didn't want the scientist to think he was getting too attached. This was purely a business relationship. Of course. Absolutely nothing else was going on here. Prowl was only resting here out of convenience and exhaustion.
It was early when the strategist roused from stasis, optics bleary and processer fogged. Laying still for a few moments, his helm rolled to the side to see Mesothulas beside him. The other mech seemed blissful in his stasis, curled up and facing Prowl. Most problematically, a yellow servo gently clung to the white plating of Prowl's arm.
Slowly, Prowl rose from the berth, trying not to alert the stasis serene Mesothulas, only to realize very quickly that he'd failed as the other's servo gripped his arm tighter. A groan rolled from behind Meso's mask as one hand on Prowl's arm turned into an arm gripping it, pulling the Autobot back into berth.
Prowl frowned, trying to free him arm. "Let go of me. I have to go."
"A few more minutes won't kill you." Meso mumbled, trying to pull the other man closer to press his face into his shoulder.
The cop car groaned and pouted as he laid there. He had no energy to fight. Plus, perhaps Mesothulas was right. A few extra minutes of sleep would help him feel a bit more recharged. His door wings creaked and flattened as he gave up and let himself relax. His processor calculated how much longer he'd have to rest to be fully charged.
There was no reason to be too uneasy about resting in Mesothulas's berth.
This is my new daemon blog. Hi everyone! I’m Hal and my daemon is - tentatively - M, a cormorant.
I’m interested in working on visualization and getting inspired by other people who have daemons. While I’m certainly inspired by the Pullman books, I don’t think there’s any wrong way to do this, and I love seeing the creativity of everyone in this broad community, and the way we make this idea work with our own brains.
I’m looking for other daemon tumblrs to follow and/or chat with. (this is a sideblog so I’d follow from another one - either way, I love Content(TM), feel free to advertise yourself)
I’d also be into discords if anyone has any good ones. (I’m over 18 and queer if that makes a difference.)
Anyway, pleased to meet you all!
summary: When Atsushi first began work with the Armed Detective Agency, days off were a daunting prospect. However, as time goes on, he gains a new appreciation for the slow and comfortable silence.
prompt: feline/hunger games
notes: this doesn’t fit the prompt very well, but it IS very fluffy and somewhat feline-related
Early on in Atsushi’s employment with the ADA, the prospect of days off was always a little daunting. Others may use the free time to make plans with friends, visit family, pursue hobbies, or just simply relax, but in Atsushi’s case none of those options were particularly appropriate. All his friends are friends from work, he has no family, developing hobbies is an entirely different prospect than spending a little free time indulging himself, and the prospect of being alone with nothing but his thoughts for company is one of the least relaxing things Atsushi can imagine.
He tries his best to make the most of it, though. He cleans his dorm from top to bottom, rolling his pants up to the knee and sleeves up to his elbows. It’s so different when things like mopping and sweeping and doing dishes are simple chores rather than assignments with dire consequences attached to them. The windows are flung wide, and Atsushi dances across the apartment in bare feet through the sunshine.
He takes up gardening. One day, Kunikida looks down at him, adjusts his glasses, and announces that he’s concerned for Atsushi’s emotional wellbeing, as he spends all his down time alone. A pet would be a most effective solution to the difficulties caused by such solitude. But Atsushi worries about what could happen with his tiger form, so they reach a compromise, and he and Kunikida leave the hardware store just as dusk starts to set in, Atsushi’s arms laden with a small fern and all the necessary caretaking equipment. After a few weeks pass, his dorm becomes a small green haven, and he spends evenings and mornings with a spray bottle, watering can, and a big smile and a heart full of chatter for his plants.
And life goes on. Days turn, nights pass, and, slowly and slowly, days off stop being so scary and start being the treats they’re meant to be.
Atsushi curls his feet up beside him on the chair, propping his chin on his fist and turning a page in his book. It’s a thin volume of poetry, one of many that Akutagawa has developed a habit of leaving for him on the dresser or beneath a pillow or, in particularly dire cases, right in the center of the kitchen table. Reading them is half genuine enjoyment and half furtive, blushing glimpse into what makes Akutagawa tick.
But there’s something more to look at right now. As much as he tries to focus on the pages, he can see a long black shape over the top of the book, and he gives up for a bit in order to watch.
Akutagawa rolls over, turning his face into the sun. His eyes twitch behind the lids. An arm comes up to pillow his head, and he yawns hugely before snuggling back down. It’s so rare that their free time coincides like this, so uncommon that they have any time to spend just being people around each other and not rivals or battle partners or any other role that life forces upon them. Today, they have a chance to be together because they choose to be, and for no other reason.
Atsushi closes his book and goes to join Akutagawa for a cat nap.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chromedome/Rewind (Transformers)
Characters: Chromedome (Transformers)
Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Grief/Mourning, this kind of came out with a poetic rhythem but i wouldnt go so far as to tag it as poetry
Summary:
After Rewind's passing, Chromedome finds himself in his habsuite, sitting alone and rewatching Rewind's final message. Over and over again.
In this story, she is 19, and she is unbearably beautiful.
MAKE LOVE NOT WAR
"But.. what if they really are a danger?"
"Oh come now Patroclus, you're much smarter than that."
"I mean, I was against the war on Troy even back then because I thought the cause was stupid, but what if they have a legitimate reason this time?"
"A legitimate - there is NEVER a legitimate reason."
"I only mean that if there were genuine evil in this world, I would be willing to fight in a war against it."
"Of course you would. But here, your boyfriend, the love of your life, is going to evade the draft and go out to the streets to protest, what are you going to do now?"
"Of course, I will join him, then. Without hesitation."
"Good boy, Pari- I mean, Patroclus."
Achilles is antiwar now because he's seen through all the bs. Took him long enough. One lifetime in fact.
None of the Trojans are here in the story, (because Troy ISN'T REAL, ATHENS!) but they haunt them. Achilles sees Hector's ghost in the mirror. He is the one besieged now. Troy isn't real. Vietnam isn't real, Uncle Sam! He is under siege. The whole nation is under siege. Achilles cannot escape. Achilles cannot escape. Achilles goes out to the streets.
And then of course Patroclus dies in the protests because it's the fucking Iliad
His family had already disowned him for running off long ago. There was no official funeral.
Finally, Achilles dies trying to raise an insurrection against the US government.
On the streets of the city, a boy with flaming red hair bleeds to his death from a bullet wound in his stomach.
He was not able to stop the war, or to save either one of them.
He was not a hero.
There is screaming around him. Sobbing. It sounds familiar.
The sky is darkening. In an adjacent street, the gods of love and war walk hand in hand among the protestors. A couple of blocks down, Apollo and Dionysus hold a concert. Somewhere out there, in a better place perhaps, a beautiful young man named Paris chooses Love again and again for all the pain it wrought.
