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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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So I'm a sucker for Dadimus Prime, and a sucker for major angst, and I have had this idea for a while that...what would have happened if Bee had stayed dead, either forever or just for a longer period of time, after Megatron shot him?

How would the team have reacted to, and dealt with, such an event, and especially how would Optimus have reacted?

I always liked the trope where a usually stoic and collected character finally breaks after losing a child, and figured that for once I might allow myself to indulge in my guilty pleassure. :P

You are an individual after my own heart. I am also a great lover of Dadimus and that same trope. You came to the right writer with this request. But good gracious I suddenly feel the need to turn this into a one-shot or something.

Fallen Sunbeam

When Bumblebee was shot, Optimus felt his spark cry out in absolute agony. His only sparkling, his joy and hope for the future had been extinguished by the mech he had tried to redeem for millennia. He hardly registered what he was doing when he tore into Megatron, mercy and reason completely gone as one burning desire blazed in his spark.

Megatron would die, or Optimus would fall trying and join his sparkling in the Allspark. He did not care which option ended up becoming reality.

When he came back to himself he stood over the body of his foe as he kicked Megatron's corpse off his star saber where it was impaled. The body fell and the Decepticons fled without their leader to guide them. But Optimus merely stood on the edge of the Omega Lock for a long while, not moving as his spark wept and burned from the loss of his child. He clutched at his chassis and was distantly aware of the streams of coolant that trickled down his cheeks as the pain and emotional torment of his loss took its toll. He couldn't think, he couldn't act, all he could feel was overwhelming grief as he finally fell to his knees, still holding his chassis as he stared blankly out into the void.

He was not aware of it, but all around the team were in their own various states of shock and grief. Ratchet looked more lost than ever before, his optics blurring with coolant as he looked to where Bumblebee's body floated in the Cybermatter in horror. Arcee was distraught but stoic, not a tear was shed as she did her best to step up and gather the team with both of their eldest members being out of commission. And Smokescreen seemed to be in a state of shock, not believing that Bumblebee could really be gone even as he saw the body remaining lifeless in the pool.

After what could have been minutes or hours, all the team save Optimus came to at least recognize the loss and got to their pedes, ready to finish their quest in honor of their fallen warrior. Optimus was the only one who remained completely drowning in his grief and he did not budge until Ratchet came to him and held him as best as he was able while muttering sweet nothings to try and bring him back. It took a while, but the Matrix numbed Optimus enough that he eventually stood with Ratchet's aid and took a shuddering vent. With renewed, albeit grim resolve, Optimus went and retrieved his sparkling's frame and carried him back to base with utmost respect.

The omega lock was secured but ignored while Optimus brought his sparkling back to the base and laid his lifeless body on the medical berth for funeral preparations. With the war there was no opportunity to have proper funerals, but when it came to Bumblebee, Optimus was unwilling to only perform the bare necessities. Before the day was done, Optimus vainly scanned Bumblebee once more as if looking for a miracle. He received odd results that told him that Bumblebee's frame was technically alive in the same way that an unsparked protoform was. Bumblebee's frame could live again with no issues should a spark be introduced, but without that spark, it was essentially dead. As such Optimus grit his denta and gently covered Bumblebee's frame with a sheet while he began preparations.

The children were completely heartbroken when they returned from their own battle, saw Bumblebee's absence, and then his frame. Rafael was inconsolable and clambered onto the medical berth to hug Bumblebee's body even as Miko and Jack weakly tried to call him back. Ratchet was the one forced to remove him even as he too struggled to keep his composure. In the end the children and the team took what they needed onto the nemesis and set course for Cybertron, intent of finishing their mission to honor the fallen. Optimus only remained present while the coordinates were punched in, at which point he ensured that Bumblebee's body was safe in the nemesis's medical bay and retreated to continue his solemn work.

Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack were equally distraught up on seeing Bumblebee's frame. They did not cry nor did they make a sound, merely enduring the loss in silence so that others might grieve in peace. They would have their chance later, and so instead focused on trying to comfort the children as best as they were able.

Optimus was not seen for nearly three days. No bot was entirely sure what he was doing, but he sent a message to Ratchet over a private link asking him to clean Bumblebee's frame. That gave them a hint, but none tried to ask for further details as they worked and they grieved.

Ratchet blamed himself and spent many long hours crying as he did his best to focus on cleaning Bumblebee's frame and fixing it up, polishing and making it presentable. He had helped raise the youngling, he had stood by Optimus's side as a Nurturer for Bumblebee and a secondary caretaker when required. He had not bonded to Bee on the level Optimus had, but he still felt the agonizing loss of the bond he did have. Ratchet could hardly force himself to work with the crushing emptiness that came without the scout's presence weighing on him. But out of sheer devotion to the sparkling who should have never fought in a war in the first place, Ratchet pressed on and did what was required of him.

Arcee stood strong at first but broke after Optimus left to do whatever it was he was doing. She retreated to some unused quarters and cried long and hard, beating a punching bag until it broke as she sobbed and then destroying anything else within sight on until she literally shattered her servos. At that point she fell to her knees and cried until she had nothing left to give, eventually curling up on the floor emotionally exhausted. She did not go to Ratchet for medical aid and endured her pain without a peep as she grieved the loss of the brightest hope for the future in her life.

Bulkhead had his own emotional breakdown in another part of the nemesis. Wheeljack stayed by his side all throughout, comforting his friend and doing his best to reassure Bulkhead that it was not his fault and that there was nothing he could have done. Bulkhead appreciated the comfort, but it did not stop him from mourning for a day and then grieving alongside Miko for another. He had failed Bumblebee as a guardian and a teammate, and in doing so he had failed in his duty as a wrecker.

Ultra Magnus did everything in his power to shake off the grief, patrolling, guiding the nemesis toward Cybertron, and getting the Vehicons that were on their side in line and prepared to begin rebuilding Cybertron. But once he ran out of things to do, Ultra Magnus found himself at an empty desk in a far forgotten corner of the nemesis where he quietly grieved with his face in his servos. He made not a sound as his frame shook and coolant dripped onto the desk he sat at. Much like Ratchet, he had been there throughout all of Bumblebee's youth. He had seen the scout grow into himself and go through all his ups and downs. He had been a teacher to him, a guardian, and a replacement for Optimus when the Prime was out at war when Bee was younger. His spark ached and cried out at the emptiness that came from Bee being gone.

And then there was Smokescreen. The rookie was unsure how to feel for the first day after Bumblebee's death. He stood around and was left in a state of shock above all else, unsure where to go or what to do. Then when he lay down to try and recharge later that cycle, he found himself awake and aching in loss, missing the happy chirps of the mech he had come to see as a friend and brother during their short time together. He didn't recharge that night and instead found himself crying as the memories really hit him hard. He did no leave the room he had taken up residence in until long past noon either. He didn't want to.

As for Optimus? He hid himself away in a dark corner of the nemesis and there he first prepared himself for what was to come. In accordance to tradition, first he gave himself a day to grieve. He cried, he cursed Unicron, Megatron, and the universe at large, and then he sobbed himself into recharge. When he woke he removed every inch of color from his frame, his red and blue paint scrubbed and sanded off as a sign of mourning. Then once he was left in only the gray tones of the dead save for the glowing energon lines that crossed his frame, he painted murals upon his plating in black. Every mural depicted experiences he had with Bumblebee and his relationship to him. It was not necessarily an Iaconian tradition, and was in reality a mishmash of cultures from all across Cybertron. But to Optimus it felt fitting. Then to top it all off, Optimus carefully carved surface level scars around his optics and highlighted them in black. They would heal with time, but for at least a stellar cycle they would be a stark reminder of his loss.

Once Optimus was satisfied with his appearance, he gathered up his painting tools and went to he medical bay for the most important part of the process. He spent a day painstakingly painting glowing glyphs reading Bumblebee's every achievements and glory in life onto the scout's frame in glowing blue paint. Then he injected Bumblebee's body with a reasonable dose of energon to allow a faint glow to emanate from his frame, an event that spoke of what he looked like when he lived. Only once this was done did Optimus return to his team and stand before them in time for Cybertron to be restored.

The children were given the honor of pressing the activation key as none of the bots wanted to do so after the loss of their scout. Rafael ended up being the one to do it at Jack and Miko's prompting. The bots watched Cybertron's restoration with grim resolve, and then once complete, they too went to go and scrub their plating clean of color to emulate their leader.

Optimus personally carried Bumblebee's body to the surface of Cybertron and built a small altar for his frame to lay upon. Then in front of the whole team, Optimus laid his servos upon his sparkling's helm and there proclaimed him a warrior of Cybertron. After which he put the star saber in Bumblebee's lifeless servos and covered the altar in protective glass so that his sparkling's frame may not be harmed or damaged. The team bore witness to this stoically, their time for personal mourning having past.

Once Bumblebee was laid to rest, Optimus left to retrieve the Allspark immediately, unwilling to remain on the world that had so many bad memories and the body of his only sparkling. Ratchet returned the children home and remained on earth to process the loss and keep away from Cybertron for similar reasons to Optimus. Meanwhile the rest of the team stayed on Cybertron under Ultra Magnus's command and prepared for the arrival of refugees from the war. Time passed quickly and Optimus returned without issue, the Allspark in hand. The team were gathered again, and together the Allspark was returned in an explosion of newsparks.

The team celebrated, even Ratchet as they took the arrival of newsparks to mean the coming of a new age. Optimus on the other hand was almost bitter. He had given everything for this moment, but if he had killed Megatron sooner or performed better, his sparkling would still be alive. He couldn't find it in himself to be joyful as the newspark emerged and instead returned to the grave of his sparkling, unwilling to move on. The team let him and did not comment when he did not return to his normal colors, instead keeping the gray and continually highlighting his mourning scars even once the murals he had painted had washed off. They did not so much as touch Optimus when he fell at the foot of Bumblebee's grave and sobbed ugly tears, muttering over and over again one thing.

"We did it little warrior. Cybertron is restored... we've won..."

Optimus was not begrudged by anyone when he retreated from the team, shutting himself off near completely and instead throwing himself into restoring the one place he had truly seen as home. He returned to the remains of Iacon and worked in the hall of records, repairing and restoring what was lost. Then once it was acceptable, he moved Bumblebee's grave there, taking his covered altar deep into the archives where it would not be touched by mecha or the tests of time.

Cybertron grew around Optimus, the team working to establish a government and set things straight as refugees came and newsparks emerged. Optimus did his part when required, emerging from the hall of records and sharing the history of their world and stepping in to handle conflict when needed. But he never completely shed his gray paint or allowed his mourning scars to fully fade. He devoted himself to his work, not wanting to leave the place he had taken to be a sanctuary as a way to deal with his pain and the great many traumas that plagued him from the war. When he wasn't working or training apprentices, he was deep in the archives with what remained of his only sparkling. There he would speak of all that happened, telling Bumblebee what was happening on the surface and of all the changes that were happening.

Young apprentices swiftly learned of the warrior in the deep archives, and it became a right of passage to travel to see Bumblebee's grave and pay respects. An archivist who had finished their training would go to the altar on which Bumblebee's frame lay and there they would tell the fallen warrior their oath and their ambitions. Then if Optimus acknowledged their claim, they were recognized and told the stories of the fallen warrior before them. It did not take long for Bumblebee to be heralded as both a hero and a guardian of the archives due to both the stories and the star saber he held. None dared try and touch the relic and outsiders were never allowed near. Only the archivists saw the fallen warrior, for they knew how much he meant to Optimus. They respected the honor they were granted and they never once commented on Optimus's forever dark plating because of it.

But eventually the team worried for Optimus, and only grew more so once a full vorn had passed and Optimus had yet to move on. And so in an act of desperation designed to draw Optimus out of the shell he had built so thoroughly around himself, Ratchet came to his oldest remaining friend with a gift and a duty.

It was a dark day on Cybertron, the day of Bumblebee' death in fact when Ratchet came. He arrived at the archives with a small bundle in his arms and entered in without issue. The young archivists ushered him deep to where Optimus generally worked, and there they let him be. The Prime was mourning silently, his field held close as he worked and gently cleaned the glass that separated Bumblebee's frame from the outside world. Seeing this Ratchet sighed and pulled Optimus away, careful not to dislodge his precious cargo.

Ratchet: Optimus, it has been a vorn. This needs to stop... you need to let him go.

Optimus: I cannot do that... I failed him as both his Prime and his Sire... it is only right I remain in mourning to repent.

Ratchet: No Optimus. He wouldn't want that for you. He wouldn't want you to spent the rest of your functioning in the dark down here forever grieving his death.

Optimus: ...

Ratchet: Cybertron is restored. It's time for a new beginning, a new chapter in your life.

With his declaration made, Ratchet carefully passed his small charge to the Prime whose optics blew wide at what he saw. Bundled up in organic made cloth was a small sparkling, hardly a few cycles old and with plating still soft to the touch. Already the sparkling's armor was a shining red and orange, bright and powerful like a flame in the gloom of the deep archives. The sparkling cooed upon seeing Optimus's face, little sparkling fangs on display as the little ones optics glowed with innocence.

Optimus wanted to object and give the sparkling back. He had failed once after all...

But as the sparkling held onto one of his digits with such purity and joy, Optimus felt at peace for the first time since his firstborn had fallen. It still didn't feel right. He still couldn't be completely content with himself, not after Bumblebee's death. But... as he looked upon the sparkling, he found himself wanting to try again, to give this sparkling the life he couldn't give Bee.

Ratchet: You will take him?

Optimus: ... I will.

Ratchet: What is his name?

Optimus: His name... his name is Hot Rod. My blazing flame, my new hope for the future.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #angst #grief/mourning #fallen sunbeam au #well there's the au warning yall #I feel inspired and may go on to write about optimus's adventures and misadventures with his newest charge #who knows #anyway I hope yall suffer becuase of this #I know it was hard for me to write simply because it was so sad

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rising-volteccers · 9 months

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Episode 18 has given me a lot to think about Friede's character. Thus this is my personal thoughts of what we've known from his backstory. I have a lot to say so this is going to be long so if you're planning on actually reading this to the end, well buckle up. This is part one of two posts because Tumblr has a 30 image per post limit and I will not be denied putting in screencaps of the moments I love (which is the entirety of the episode).

Part two of the post is [here].

First and foremost, what interested me was that Friede had an actual proper job before this. When I think about Pokemon Professor, my mind goes to the likes of Professor Oak and Elm that have their own research labs. Of course so long as they were an expert in a particular field and researchers in their own right, they didn't need a base of operations so to speak. To my knowledge, usually they were 'self employed' as in they didn't work for someone. Seeing Friede as he is now, it's hard to picture being under someone's employment. It doesn't suit him, and as we'll learn later, he's not meant to be cooped up in a laboratory doing research all day.

We know from Episode 13 that the Brave Asagi was created from Ludlow's fishing boat so it's implied that Friede, Orla and Ludlow knew each other from before the formation of the Rising Volt Tacklers. We learn that Friede and Orla were childhood friends that used to live in Kanto before Orla moved to the Hoenn region. What prompted Friede to be in Paldea might be related to that job he recently quit but what I want to know is the exact relation between Ludlow and Friede.

Ludlow is clearly trying to cheer Friede from his slump. This speaks of a familiarity between the two and given their massive age gap, a part of me wonders if Ludlow is actually Friede's biological grandfather. He refers to Ludlow as Gramps but that could simply be how he addresses someone who he's close and familiar with. Still, the way Ludlow speaks here implies that this Friede has been coming here to fish for multiple days. Ludlow sees that someone as young as Friede should go and seek opportunities with his own two hands instead of wasting his days away. I really like seeing this and hope we'll get to learn more about Ludlow in future episodes.

Here, there's multiple things that caught my attention. We now know for certain that Lucca was Friede's old school teacher. That's the connection that the had, and one that lasted for years after Friede finished school. They likely had a good bond seeing that Charizard was super friendly to her, not to mention that she kept up to tabs with Friede's life seeing that she knew he quit his job. Friede said she hadn't contacted him in years thus giving me the impression that she had her connections because Friede doesn't give me the vibes of someone who'd use social media and post everything about their life.

It makes me wonder just how much Friede looked up to Lucca. Teachers who left an impact on you tend to last even long after you've graduated I find. It seemed that Friede shared his dreams of becoming a Pokemon Professor to Lucca, so much so that she recalled just how happy he was. I'm hoping someday we could get more insight on that.

Alright, this is going to veer heavily into personal interpretation and headcanons. From the way that Friede spoke about himself being a genius Pokemon Professor where there's nothing that he didn't know about these mysterious creatures doesn't sound like an empty boast. If we considered how he did the Professor Friede segment at the end of the episodes, he'd be on the same footing as Professor Oak, one of the most well known professors of all time. I imagine had he actually done that, then it couldn't just be hosted by any professor. It needed to be by a professor who truly knew a lot about Pokemon.

Friede believes himself to be a genius Pokemon Professor (as he stated this once or twice more throughout the episode) where he knows all that is to know about Pokemon but now he's in a rut and he doesn't know what to do with his life.

Now I've mentioned a few times before that I personally headcanon Friede to have undiagnosed ADHD. To me, Friede just feels like a burnt out gifted kid.

Given the ambiguity of his age yet he was considered a fully accredited Pokemon Professor that had a job before Lucca made that phone call and he looks like he's in his late teens to late twenties, picture this:

You have a strong interest in Pokemon. You happily tell your favorite teacher that you're going to become a Pokemon Professor to do all kinds of research. You are genuinely intellectually smart and loves learning about Pokemon so you go through years of study, pushed by your drive to learn everything and believing you've done so when you became a Pokemon Professor. You were eligible to be hired on as a company researcher, finally showcasing how you earned your credentials. But you learnt that it wasn't all that cracked up to be. You're putting what you've learnt into practice but being cooped in a lab, analyzing data just didn't sit right to you. Instead of forcing yourself through it, you decided that the better course of action is to quit. Hey, you found your freedom at last! After all those years of hard work, might as well take it easy yeah? Still, this is what you've been working towards. That's all you knew what you wanted to do since you shared your dream to your favorite teacher. You have the credentials, the knowledge and the means to do whatever you want but... you're just bored? Maybe not bored but there's just nothing interesting. You've worked hard to achieve your dream but did you consider anything aside from it? Now that you've realized that you're not really suited for researching in a lab, what can you do?

So the gist of it is gifted kid that worked hard towards becoming a Professor discovers that it might not be suited for him. That realization leaves him falling into a rut because he doesn't know what else he can do. He likely never considered the possibility of it not suiting him thus he doesn't have a back-up plan.

In that sense (and again, this is personal interpretation and a touch of self projection) I kind of relate to him. Going through school with good grades being fixated on multiple topics, thinking that this is what I want to do when I studied for my degree because it felt like the natural progression at the time but then finding out that it's not really suited for me. I've hit that wall and still in that figuring out what I want to do stage so seeing how Friede developed in this episode gave me hope that perhaps I can find that spark like him one day.

Anyway I just wanted to point this out cause this made me laugh.

Narrator voice: Let him cook. He will in fact one day imagine and experience it.

Friede would have dismissed that Pikachu entirely because he's still in that mindset of I know all that is to know about Pokemon. What I love about this scene is that for the first time since that flashback, there's a spark in Friede's eyes. He's likely experiencing excitement from have his interest piqued since he quit his job (or maybe even longer than that), to see something that he thought he knew existing outside this neat checkbox of a Pikachu's type, habitat, moves, etc.

Also I love how from his view, it looks like Pikachu's falling when it fact he's ascending. Friede's fallen into a rut but this is his first glimpse of eventually seeing a future where he will ascend high and free alongside Cap.

Funnily enough this is the halfway point of the episode so the second half of this post is [here].

#Pokemon Horizons #Pokeani #Anipoke #Professor Friede #Captain Pikachu #Screencaps #My posts #The hyperfixation is strong in this one

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moonlight-drawn-by-dawn · 3 years

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Sneak Peek : Recompense

So I decided to pull an old piece from the archives that I kept hidden for the past three years.I’m thinking about reviving it for the incoming year. As I was editing, I had the thought of transforming this into a Madrugada prequel (though the main character’s name is different in this version). At this rate, I know Cecil’s story will never be told within the story and I kinda regret not having the proper place to write it within Madrugada. Poor guy doesn’t get a break and deserves to get some form of happiness. Anywho, let me know your thoughts! If it’s a yes, then I will work on bringing this into frutition.

~~~

May 1923

The flowers bloomed with a soft fragrance as the sun shined bright. Folks were busying the streets, shopping, and talking. Children played with friends, running about with small toys at hand. The wind was light, giving the right temperature for the London atmosphere. People were beginning to find hope again.

There was still a lot to fix up since the war. The troops were in anguish from all they faced on the frontlines. One, in particular, was Colonel Robin Davies, a man who was of great power. If this were five years ago, there would be people honoring him as he walked down the street, hoping for another win with his strength. Now, he walked down the crowded streets of London but merely watched others with curious eyes as strangers went about their business. There were no shouts of recognition or triumph surrounding him.

A book was at hand, a pencil too. The young man was walking to the small park not too far from his home. He was hoping to find some sense of peace. Instead, his ears consumed the noise of people, people who weren't affected.

Some beggars were asking for money, needing to fill their stomachs. Like many, Robin ignored the cries, not wanting anything to do with them. There were also young boys trying to sell newspapers, raising their voices in the hopes someone's ears would perk up having an interest in the news. More often than not, people barely took a look at them, not caring to worry themselves for a while. Robin wasn't like that. He needed to worry, be alert.

He went by the stand, taking out some loose coins from his pocket, taking the folded papers without a word. The young man said 'Thank you' to which he didn't receive a reply. Robin continued to go to the park, destined to do something with his life again.

Recently there were times he'd stay in his room all day, looking out the window watching others. He would go to the gatherings he was invited to, but there wasn't much to do, no one cared to converse with him, not that he'd blame them.

Sitting down on the bench, he took in his surroundings. Green was the dominant color in his vision, specks of brown and red. The sky was crisp. Clouds open widely, dancing in a slow rhythm. Birds were flying from one tree to another, in search of finding food for their young-ins.

His fingers opened the book, looking at previous works he'd done. They all looked the same, some a little more detailed than others. Life was mundane now, a repeat of itself. As he placed the pencil on paper, he thought how nice it would be if things changed for him.

He thought about it for a bit and left the beginning stages of his new work, only to start an even newer one.

He remembered one of the gatherings he'd have to go to in the future would entail a baby's dedication. Though he wasn't exactly close with the parents anymore, he wanted to do something nice for their child. Maybe the child wouldn't judge him based on misconceptions.

He then decided to draw a babe and mother. There was nothing more beautiful than that to him. He's seen so many dies that new life is what he needs to see.

He sat there, in concentration for about twenty minutes, pencil on the pad, ignoring all that's around him. When he finished, the sun was beginning to hideaway. Many people left and went back home, into the warmth which was lost as time went on. Robin rolled his neck a little before heading back to his place, wanting nothing more than sleep.

He avoided others as he walked briskly, not wanting anyone to acknowledge him.

Without realizing it, he ended up bumping into someone. Someone he didn't care to see.

"Robin, old chap! It's been some time since we've seen you. How are you?" Harry looked at his oldest friend, Christopher Watkins. His dark blue eyes shone with happiness, not that he didn't have anything to be happy about these past couple of years.

Robin just stared at his friend for a moment, allowing a small smile to don his face.

"That's a good mate. Hopefully, you haven't forgotten about Saturday, right? Melissa's been missing you." Unconsciously, Robin clenched his jaw. He wanted to comment on the innocent words, but couldn't. Instead, he nodded, raising his book to indicate he was working on something.

His friend nodded, the smile never leaving his face. "That's a good mate. Don't forget to look sharp. You know how she gets." Robin gave a half-hearted nod, deciding he should leave. He waved at his friend before walking off, not letting the latter give him a proper goodbye.

He didn't realize until he reached back his home that he was seething anger. It was the way he slammed his door. His things all around the floor that made him realize. He wishes he could scream, let all the anger come out.

He can remember what happened like it was yesterday. He decided to go to the war, entering the ranks like his father and grandfather. He knew it was much riskier due to how escalated the war became, but he wanted to follow tradition and make his family proud.

Before he left, he remembered leaving his beloved, Melissa, along with his good friend Christopher before heading off into the train. Robin remembered telling her how much he loved her, and the minute he got back, they'd get married.

He remembered her crying, begging him not to go. Melissa was afraid he would die, he wasn't.

He remembered talking to Christopher, "Take care of her" he didn't realize his friend would do more than that.

He was off for three and a half years. Sometimes when he could, he would write, never receiving anything back.

For three and a half years, he held onto the thought of starting a family with Melissa to help him survive.

When he finally reached home, not without wounds, he envisioned she would jump into his arms, but she was nowhere to be found.

He wanted to ask where she was but couldn't. Others realized he had that thought but chose to ignore it.

It wasn't until he went to see his friend when he saw the truth. The love of his life and his oldest friend got married, even had a child together.

The only thing he could do was stare in shock. He heard their excuses, thinking it would be better if they had gotten married because Melissa didn't believe he was alive anymore. What about the letters he sent her?

He knew the truth. They fell in love as he was away. Once you turn your back, others are out what you have.

He was shocked, angry. He couldn't show it though, he wanted to but couldn't. He just did his best to lose touch with them, much to their dismay. Robin knew they both pitied him, seeing that as the only reason they reach out to him. Anyone reached out to him was because they pitied him.

It was since then he gave up a bit but tried to fulfill his life in another way. He couldn't head back into the army, not yet. Instead, he stayed inside his home, living off what he inherited and the little the government gave him for his heroic work.

He began to grow out his hair, long curls forming. He would mostly have a harsh look on his face, avoiding people as a whole.

He needed something out of life, but he hasn't found it yet.

Saturday came quicker than he planned.

He focused so much on the painting that he hadn't realized how the time passed. He wore a nice suit, in contrast to his regular button-down shirt and slacks.

He neatly combed his hair. Since the end of the war, he had grown out his hair. There wasn't anyone for him to impress anyway. He shaved clean, but that was normal. He didn't care for a beard.

He reached the house of his longtime friend within no time; it was twice as big as the place he lived in, but Christopher had a family, so it wasn't as if he didn't need it.

When he rang the doorbell, he saw the blue eyes of Christopher, happy as ever.

"Robin, you came!"

Robin knew his friend was surprised because he usually would refuse to go out to social events. Before the war, he would be the one to make the party.

He smiled at his friend, subtly gesturing he wanted to come in.

Christopher took the box which encased the drawing he had.

Robin walked into the grand home and was surprised by how many people were there. Most were young families, but many were single women.

He looked around before seeing Melissa. His eyes wandered on her glowing face, red hair woven in an intricate braid, holding in her arms a baby. There was a ghost of a smile crossing his face. He then thought about how it would be if she married him, and that was their child.

Without him even realizing it, she walked towards him, his mind still away.

"Robin! It's great to see you again. How are you?" He looked at her surprised, before recovering with a smile. He was glad to see her again, even after how awkward everything was for him in the beginning.

"This is Josephine. Josey, this is your Uncle Robin" The mother turned from him to her daughter, a cheerful 5-month-old baby how started to grab things within reach. "Would you like to hold her?" Robin nodded, never really having the experience before.

With stable hands, Robin held the little girl. She had her father's brunette hair and her mother's hazel eyes. His hand touched her soft cheek delicately, afraid to break her. The baby took his finger and held onto it. He felt like there wasn't anyone else around except him, Melissa, and her baby.

Sometimes, he wished he could turn back time.

If he had to choose, he would still be boxing, fighting for his country. He would come back to a worried Melissa when he appeared to her with a bruised lip or a black eye. He may have had the advantage of not seeing the horrors that the war had to offer.

Within minutes, he came back into the real world, hearing Christopher calling his name. "Robin, mate, there's someone I want you to meet." There was instantly a bad feeling in his gut hearing that.

He gave the baby one last smile before giving her back to Melissa. Walking cautiously towards Christopher, his guard instantly came up.

Christopher put an arm around him, leading him into another corner of his big house. That's when he saw her, his worse nightmare.

She was tall, blonde, and beautiful. There was an odd look in her eyes. Although she held a smile on her face, she seemed a bit detached. Robin hoped this interaction wouldn't be too long, but he knew it would already be short due to him.

"Robin, this is Francesca. Franny, this is Robin, the guy I told you about." Told her about, what about him? He wasn't even told about anything!

"Hello, it's nice to meet you." She gave her long, thin fingers for him to shake, to which he took and shook hands with him, not without giving a polite smile.

"So Robin, I heard you do art. What kind of pieces do you do?" Was she serious? If Christopher told her all about him, he could've at least added that he was mute. His teeth gritted together, and out of spite, decided to use sign language to give his answer.

She looked confused at his "gestures", his signing, leaving to complain to Christopher about this 'flaw' he had.

Robin was beyond mad when the woman left. How dare Christopher humiliate him? What did he do so wrong that he was made to look like a fool not once, but twice?!

"I'm sorry, Robin. I didn't want to make you go through that experience. I know after everything, you've probably don't care for relationships like that. Melissa thought it would be best for you to move on."

His eyes opened wide at the last statement. Did Melissa want him to do that, to move on? She sounded as though she wanted to forget about their relationship. Robin gave his old friend a small nod before deciding to take his leave; he didn't care to see how they'd react to his painting.

He sulked down the now dark streets, his mind fuming. Instead of heading back home, he went to the place he once considered a haven.

The boxing gym was one of little lighting, many would usually come early in the morning to do what they need to, but Robin didn't have any time for that. Taking off his suit jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and tied his hair before looking for a spear pair of boxing gloves.

Without hesitation, he started to punch. It was slow at first, but when he thought about things that got him upset, his punches became faster, more powerful. His breathing became more ragged, and he lost everything in the motions.

It wasn't until he collapsed from the burning in his lungs when he stopped. It was years since he practiced, so he should've expected that to occur. He coughed a few times, his chest moving fast, trying to catch his breath.

After a few minutes, he thought it would be best to go back home, sleep away from his emotions. He realized a while ago that burying his emotions became his new thing.

When he arrived home, he was surprised who he saw standing by his front door, his father. Edward Davies stood tall and proud, waiting for his son's arrival. Robert was almost his exact image, except for his eyes. Robert got his sea-green eyes from his mother.

As Robin reached his front door, he noticed his father looking at him, eyes softening. The young man remembered even as a child his father never looked at him like that. There was pity in his father's eyes, and he hated it. He didn't need his father to feel sorry for him because of what happened.

"Hello Robin, it's good to see you again." He shook his son's hand firmly. Robin only looked at his father, giving a smile to indicate how good it was to see him again.

As they both entered the warm house, Robin sensed that something was going to happen. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but he did have to brace himself.

"How are things for you, son?" This time, Robin resorted to using sign language to get his words across. There's only so much the face can express.

I'm doing well. Things are going normal for me.

His father nodded, having learned the language to make up for the lost time. There was an awkward silence between the men, not sure of where things would be heading.

"Robin, I know the war ended years ago, but I do hope you know as a Colonel, you still have responsibilities to the country as a whole." The younger man nodded in agreement, he had been through a lot, but there was more to protect the country from.

"As you know, in recent years, there has been a stark conflict with our colonization in India. Since the war began, we've been facing much more rebellion from the Indian people trying to take back the power we now have. Since the end of the war, we as a government thought that there should be more reinforcement down in India, regulating the people."

Robin took the words in, not sure of what he had to do with anything.

"Well, son, I know as of recently you haven't done anything too significant in your life. Your mother and I thought that maybe a change in the environment would help you out. We were thinking, that you can go to India and lead one of the regiments. You won't have to do a lot, only give orders and make sure everything's running smoothly. The most you may have to do is see whether someone decides to rebel against the crown and figure out how to deal with it. Would you be willing to do so?"

Robin was stunned. Since the war, there wasn't a day he ever thought his father would ask him to run a regiment of soldiers. In another country, no less. His legs began to shake, forcing him to sit by the nearest chair.

How would he be able to do half of the things his father wanted if he was incapable of physically giving orders? How would any subordinates respect him with a lack of voice?

He looked at his father, disbelief almost showing through his eyes.

"Of course, you don't need to give me an answer right this minute, but I do need one by next week. Come home and let us know. Your mother misses you." With that, his father decided to take his leave.

Robin stayed put on his chair, contemplating what his father just told him. He never expected to be asked back into the army so quickly, but who was he kidding? Did they expect him to run a regiment? He won't have any respect from the men.

Then again, his father was right; he did need a sense of a newer environment. He couldn't stay here, not with his past always there to haunt him.

But how would he live there, would he be put into quarters with all the other men?

There were too many questions on his mind. A headache started to form in his head; he needed to sleep on it.

The only thing he knew now was that there was a chance of renewal in his life.

If Robin knew what was good for him, he would take it.

#original character #original story #original writing #london #1920s #historical fiction #boxer #mute character #love loss #soldier #possible cecil story #possible madrugada prequel #cecil #for now it's robin davies #im an idiot i dead left typos in 😬

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hpqueerfest · 3 years

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Hello,

I tried to send an email but it said the email for you didn't exist. But I wasn't able to pull up the rules for the fest. Kept getting me back to the pinned post about claiming being open.

And I was wanting to know if it can be a multi chapter. I started writing it and it went from being a one shot to three shot. I'm almost finished with it. Cause I was hoping to do a self prompt after this one.

And where is the link for the Ao3 Collection? I couldn't find it.

Thanks

Hi,

Rules can be found here. We’ve gotten a few asks about the same issue; I don’t know how to fix it because the link works for me. I’ll paste them down below as well.

Multi chapters are totally fine! We love multi chapter works. Only rules there is that they must be finished at the time of posting and cannot be part of an ongoing series.

I’ll post the link for the AO3 Collection this weekend! I haven’t finished getting that set up (I just turned in the last of my coursework for the semester so I’m a little behind at the moment). A post about posting will go up this weekend.

The HP Queer Fest is a prompt-based fest, for both artists and writers. We welcome any rating and any (or no) pairing. Open to all eras, characters, and ships. The only requirement - the main character or characters have to be queer or that the work itself is centered around these identities. It can be about self-discovery, identity, coming out, etc. Anything that centers around being queer.

Requirements:

- Stories must be at least 500 words. There is no maximum wordcount.

- Each Story must be complete and entirely your own. You can not submit a WIP. It also can’t be part of an ongoing series - if you want to continue your story in the future, that’s up to you, but for the fest there needs to be a proper ending.

- You’re welcome to collaborate! Just let us know your co-author when you sign up.

- We advise you to get a Beta and a Sensitivity Reader. If you don’t know where to find one, you can ask us and we will try to set you up with someone!

- Art can be any form or medium, but should be equivalent to at least 500 words. Artwork files should be at least 640x480 pixels, and scans of physical artworks should be clean and clear.

- Gifsets must be at least 8 gifs that tie together to tell some kind of story.

- Moodboards must be at least 5 images and follow a theme and/or narrative.

- Fanvids must be at least 1 minute long and tell some kind of story.

- Podfics should be equivalent to at least 500 words. There is no maximum wordcount or time.

Prompting :

- Prompting opens on March 29 and closes on April 23.

- You can submit 10 prompts per person, and you don’t have to create anything in order to submit a prompt. You also don’t need to submit a prompt in order to claim one.

- You can either submit anonymously or include your name with the prompt.

- This is a prompt-based fest and not a gifting fest, and writers are allowed to make (small) changes to the prompt they have claimed.

- Self-prompting is allowed. If you’d like to work with your own prompt, please do not send it in, or others might claim it. Once claiming starts, you can sign up with your own prompt.

Claiming :

- Claiming opens on April 26 and closes on June 29.

- You can claim one prompt. If you finish before the deadline, you’re welcome to claim another one!

- Each prompt can be claimed once for fic, once for podfic and once for any medium of art, and claiming will work on a first come, first served basis.

- Please choose your top three prompts when claiming, in order of preference. This is in case your first choice has already been claimed.

- After you’ve submitted your claim, we will send you a confirmation of your prompt.

Submitting :

- Works are due June 30, but if you are finished before this date, you are welcome to submit early.

- If in any case you need to drop out or you need an extension, please let us know as soon as possible.

- All works must be posted to the AO3-Collection we will send you. The collection will be moderated, and the works released by us. If you don’t know how to do this, feel free to ask us.

Posting :

- Posting starts on July 5.

Podficcers :

- For podfics you can sign up to create a podfic for one of the Fest’s prompts, or you can create a podfic for an existing fic that fits with the Fest’s theme.

- If you sign up and you are creating a podfic for an existing work, please select the ‘self-prompt’ option.

- Make sure to get the writer’s permission (either by asking them directly or making sure they have a blanket statement on their profile) to create a podfic first! If you create a podfic of an existing work, and you do not have the creator’s permission you will be disqualified from the Fest.

Last but not least :

- This is a non-anonymous Fest. Feel free to discuss your work with your fellow-writers, cheer each other on and help each other out if needed!

- You can also contact us through asks and messages on our tumblr, or send us an email at [email protected]

#i'm super excited about folks already writing #i can't wait to read what everyone puts together #faq #anonymous

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