Title: Persistence (30 smiles)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Silverbolt/Blackarachnia
Verse: Beast Wars
Notes: I found a set of prompts from the old
30_smiles LJ community on my harddrive and decided to give it a shot, drabble-style. (The comm itself is gone now, but I liked this set better than the replacement comm's sets, so.) Thirty smiles shared between our favorite star-crossed lovers in no particular order. 10/30, so far. (First five are
here.)
Don't leave it hanging!
It was the smile that doomed him, he decides glumly.
She had gifted him with a smile so dazzling he could only stare, transfixed by her radiant beauty, that he hadn’t even noticed the web she spun. And by then it was too late.
“Now be a good boy and stay put. I have business to take care of.”
Oh, my beloved, he muses as he hangs suspended from the ceiling, alone, to be so concerned over my well-being; to go so far as to restrain me to keep me from harm! Truly, you are too good for this world.
Mischief
“Ugh,” she staggers a little under his weight as she manoeuvres him in to their quarters. “How much of that stuff did you drink?”
He smiles brightly at her even as he stumbles. “It would have been rude not to join in the festivities,” he says, carefully putting one pede in front of the other. “Rattrap even said so.”
“I’m sure he did,” she mutters. “C’mon, Bowser-boy. Let’s get you in to bed.” She’d get him in to recharge first. Then she had plotting to do.
The rat was going to pay for making her deal with an overcharged mutt.
Isn't it ironic?
He knows that he shouldn’t be doing this, here, with her. He is ill-suited to this sneaking around she so enjoys; for him it is the open skies and the light of day in which he is comfortable. Creeping out for a midnight rendezvous, skulking under the cover of darkness while his comrades remain unaware; it seems filthy and craven, as if their love is something to be ashamed of.
But she has asked it, and he is always powerless to deny her.
He finds it ironic that with a single smile, she can seemingly bring his ideals crumbling down.
What did you say?
“Forgive me, but could you please say that again?”
She glares at him, but he smiles back, unabashed. “You heard me the first time,” she grumbles.
He takes her claw in his. “One could never tire of hearing those words, beloved.”
“Well,” she says, looking down at their joined hands. He leans forward, eager for her words. Then she looks up, and with a smirk, pushes him in to the river.
“That’s what you get for being greedy, Rover,” she tells him as he surfaces, sputtering. Then she sashays off, another I love you held firmly behind closed, smiling lips.
Send me the thorns
“If you’re looking for Miss Perfect, you’ve got the wrong girl,” she states bluntly. “I’m not nice or sweet. I’ll likely make a horrible girlfriend.”
“Dark poison of my heart,” he says with a gentle smile, “you have always been - and always will be - the absolute pinnacle of perfection in my optics. I have no need for the fragile lily nor the delicate cherry blossom; you are my rose, and your thorns make you all the more dearer to me, my spark’s delight.”
She sighs, but smiles wryly up at him. “You are such a sap,” she tells him fondly.
A/N: Sometimes trying to keep it all within 100 words is a pain. (Especially the last one. My Silverbolt-muse really wasn't satisfied with such a short speech extolling the virtues of his beloved.)