i like fictional men

The screams and cries of death enveloped the battlefield in its shroud of dark. There were blasts coming from every direction, hitting some missing others. The foul stench of rotting energon encompassed every being across the land. The horizon was caked in the life force of the countless fallen mechs and femmes.

Optimus could feel his tanks lurching to expel their contents from the putrid smell that invaded his olfactory sensor. He kept his fuel down with a hard exvent as he continued forward within the doomed battlefield. So many dead warriors, many his own comrades a few klicks ago were thriving, were strung across the battlefield in horrid positions. Their postures bent at unnatural angles and forms bedaubed in their own rotting energon.

He could barely handle it, the smell, the sight, the thought. This was a mistake. Everything was a mistake. Nothing is worth this endless plague of death.

It was never ending. The carnage onslaught upon his friends, comrades, people. He wished he was back at Iacon. Back home in the hall or records, where he belonged, not here on the battlefield a newly named Prime leading a faction of his planet desperately seeking for change. He didn’t belong at the helm of leadership, being the beacon of hope he once saw in Megatronus. He didn’t want this, any of this.

He wanted to be safe at his secret spot. The secret spot he shared countless nights whispering small hushes of love and promises with you.

You

You were what kept him going in this cruel reality. His spark bond pulled him into the fray once more. His pedes avoided the countless mangled bodies strewn across the horizon. His spark started to burn in anticipation, in want, in need of you.

In the distance he heard the sparks flying from the crashing of metal against metal. The harsh yells of battle pulled his spark forward knowing it was you.

The clashes grew louder in sound as one of the warrior was clearly beginning to lose the tides of war. His pace quickened to rise over the rubble blocking his view.

A clean slice rung throughout the battlefield. Metal cleaving it’s way through metal to take yet another life in the ceaseless war for freedom. His sparkbond went dark, no signs of life coming from the other half of his world. The defeated bot slid off the victors bode unceremoniously, their body clinking to the ground leaving more soon to rot energon in its wake.

Optimus couldn’t hold in his screams of terror, his tanks flushing out his fresh fuel in sight of what he just witnessed. He keeled over gripping the ground as his tanks purged their contents, adding onto the smell of rot consuming him.

Optimus’s optics went online with such ferocity that his processor was barely out of the cold reach of his dream. His exvents were quick and uncontrolled. His frame was shaking as his tanks gave that familiar lurching he knew so well from the war.

He dropped his helm into his servos as the his vents let out in spasming intervals. Loud sobs filled his habsuite with the remembrance of his young spark mate’s demise. Even if he was a prime and by definition was higher than other Cybertronian’s, nothing can even begin to comprehend the all devouring numbing ache that filled one’s spark chamber when their sparkbonded passed.

The cold look of your offline eyes shook him to his core. Your body joining the mangled masses strewn across the horizon as your energon begun to rot from with-inside you.

Optimus purged his tanks once more from the gruesome memory.

~

Your day had started off as well as it could have. Your parents had breakfast ready, your homework had been finished the night before, and you weren’t running late to school like you so frequently did. Truly the universe was on your side this one solar cycle.

Solar cycle? What was a solar cycle?

….anyway, moving on.

Life was going you way, but why did it all feel wrong? Like the life you were living was an empty excuse for existence, like you weren’t truly living. As if something was missing from your very being.

But, every teenager feels that way at some point in their puberty hazed processors. Maturing was a fickle thing and as student in the last stretches of your high school career the immense changes hurdling towards you at light speeds were bound to trip you up eventually.

Warning signs running around your mind occupied your senses as the school day passed in a blur. Fourth period ended in a rush of students charging out to have their lunch period. Footsteps rhythmically followed your own, quickly catching up to your own.

“Hey you ok?” He uttered your name. Turning towards the fellow student, you gaze fell upon a concerned Jackson Darby. He went by Jack but you called him Jackson on occasion when he infuriated you to the point of explosion.

“Hm? Oh uh yeah I’m fine Jack, just tired is all” you mumbled playing with the sleeves of your shirt.

“Ok if you say so” he shrugged as his pace continued to be unified with your own. The repeated steady thumps of his footsteps lulled your brain into its previous haze.

Jack was speaking but his words went unheard by the static vibrating within your mind. The two of you found yourselves at one of the lunch tables, Jack still rumbling on about his many due assignments after you had grabbed the school provided lunch. It looked like cheese sticks but one couldn’t be too careful.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked raising his eyebrow, “You’ve been kinda zoning out all day.” He leaned forward on the outdated grasping a fry from his raggedy lunch tray.

“..I uh yeah I think I’m ok jus’ a lot on my mind” you picked at your untouched food. It didn’t look appetizing at all the gooey slump on the side was a mystery that you did not want to uncover.

Your stomach protested the lack of sustenance and you remembered your stash inside your bag. Reaching inside your bag, you pulled out a blue Gatorade bottle. Food was off the table for now but fluids were definitely not. The blue liquid has least mesmerized you, even if you were refusing to eat anything, blue Gatorade was always the solution to getting something nutritional inside you.

“…..Have you been taking your meds?” Jack narrowed his eyes as cautiously asked. He was always concerned for your week being, especially after he found out you lived off of nothing but blue Gatorade and sheer will power.

You nodded as the cap of the bottle relented and let itself be freed from the body of the bottle. The bottle went bottoms up as you downed the entire contents in one swig. You twisted the cap back on the empty bottle and placed it on your own raggedy lunch tray.

“Every time I see you do that I want to cringe so bad” Jack laughed. His laugher was contagious as you soon were laughing hysterically alongside him.

The hysterics quickly devolved into coughing fits as both of your lungs couldn’t handle the strain of laughing so hard for so long.

Your and Jack’s coughing was interrupted by the blaring ring of the bell signaling the lunch period was over. The lunchroom, once filled now barely possessed any signs of life as your fellow students left the area to continue their daily schedules. You and Jack followed in suit, tossing out the uneaten food from your trays into the shabby garbage cans.

“ I’ll see you later ok?” Jack called after you as he pulled on his backpack.

“Yea I’ll see you later Jackie boy” you smirked walking backwards away from your younger friend.

“I thought I said don’t call me that!” He yelled watching you back away. His face flushed red in embarrassment at the stupid nickname he despised.

You flipped him off in response, cackling at his ever redder face and huffs of rage.

~

“Optimus whats on your mind? ”

Optimus flinched up from his work as his optics adjusted their focus onto the faceplates of a concerned Ratchet. His brow ridges were lowered in his focus on the Prime’s own look of misery.

Optimus’s processor was submerged in an ocean of emotion. The dull ache of his half whole spark hurt him more than he could express into words. The death of one’s sparkmate was an event that destroyed mechs and femmes alike. The connection they shared was like no other in the infinite galaxies, a bond so deep, so rich they couldn’t remember a time before feeling that all consuming wave of love enveloped them so. Many died from the death or their sparkmate, their very sparks ripped out of their spark chamber at their passing. It was very common for bots to choose to return to the well of all sparks and be one with their sparkmate once more.

Optimus however couldn’t have granted his broken spark that mercy. He was a leader, a symbol of freedom for all who sought it. He couldn’t be selfish, he couldn’t do what Orion Pax would’ve done in an instant if he had the chance.

He ex-vented slowly as his helm shifted towards his oldest friend, “It is simply the anniversary old friend” Optimus’s servos’ twitched, the pit of unease in his tanks rustling the fresh energon dose he had that morn.

“Oh….” Ratchet hesitated in his utterance, his voice glitching a bit as he thought of what to say, “Then it is imperative you rest Optimus.”

Optimus quickly objected but Ratchet stopped his words before they could escape. “Up up up I don’t want to hear one word of it. Losing what you lost is a pain I or anyone here can’t t ever relate too. So please, rest. It’s ok.”

Optimus’s optics widened in surprise. His misters must have been so apparent Ratchet himself was concerned. He shook his helm. Perhaps he did need to rest, Optimus nodded in response to Rachet’s concern and set off for his habsuite.

Even if rest couldn’t quiet the violent cries of his spark for its other half, it could calm the hurricane within his mind.

If only his long passed sparkmate was here. How the soft whispers of their voice reaching is audial fins would calm his aching spark and aching mind. Letting stasis overtake him wouldn’t solve the ache, but it would let him grasp onto the only remnants he had left of his lost love. His Conjux Endura.

Optimus silently traveled back to his habsuite, his mind plagued with memories of his conjux. How he prayed he’d be able to live out eternities with them, but alas it was Primus’s will for their sacrifice. He would accept that all that was left was his dreams of their gentle caresses against his face plates and passionate words of love in his audial receptors.

His optics dulled as he laid his broken spark to rest, awaiting the dreams his processor would bring him of his lost conjux.

~

Your ruffled sheets greeted your sullen face as you fell into their awaiting comfort. The layers of soft blankets were a greatly welcomed feeling in replacement of the harsh elements your public school brought upon you.

The feeling something was off never left your mind even after your discussion with Jack. It was as if you were just …wrong. Being here in your fleshy organic human skin was wrong. But why?

You were a human. This is all you’ve ever known. Why would being you feel so wrong? …maybe it was time to up your dosage of medication because the ones you were on weren’t working. That empty void of raw disgust and emptiness was returning to your life and you couldn’t deal with that again……you just couldn’t.

This thought plagued your processor as your eyes fell and your conscious drifted into the smooth wakes of slumber. Soon, the sweet hums of a dream begun and filled your mind with a sense of belonging.

You opened your eyes within the dream. Lucid dreaming wasn’t something new to you, but this one was different. Different like those dreams plagued by screams of horror and stench of death.

Except this dream was soft, sweet. That void inside disappeared as if it never existed at all. You felt whole: complete. That missing piece that had been lost your entire life was there.

“Sweetspark” a baritone voice rung out in the silence. He wasn’t speaking English, however you knew what his alien language meant. You understood the almost musical language he spoke.

Even so, his voice was the most ethereal voice you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. But, you knew that voice. That voice was so familiar it was as if-

“Sweetspark come back home. It’s late” His steps were powerful as he approached your form. Your dermas lifted into a smile.

“Oh is it dear one? I didn’t notice” your voice sung out in the same language the man of dreams spoke in.

His voice processor let out a soft chuckle at your bubbly tone. Your mirth was something he couldn’t help but adore about you.

His strong steps continued until his chassis was flush with your back paneling. Arms rapped themselves around your midsection plating joined by gentle caresses of his servos along your sides.

You couldn’t help but ex-vent at the affection of your sparkmate as you leaned into his chassis. This was all you ever wanted. All you ever needed.

He brought his helm to your audio receptor, his dermas ghosting their way across your receptor. “I miss you” he uttered. The emotion so present , so raw it made your spark ache.

.

.

“Optimus”

Suddenly, everything made sense. The whole in your being, you existing, this dream, him. It all was so clear. Nothing else in your minuscule organic life mattered now that he was here by your side.

Primus you missed him so much.

You had to find him

.

.

To be continued….

YO! I’m so glad that yumiburrito gave me this idea. I have a whole narrative that will eventually end up in fluff but for now I torture you with angst BAHAHAH. Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Part 2 will be on its way soon, it’ll be LONG so it’ll be a minute