Thank you for the prompts~ I will post under the cut.
3. A Scream. (Westar)
Most Cybertronians, whether they would admit it or not, found human eyes to be captivating, particularly the pupils. Little dots of supernovas contracting, then expanding to swallow all surrounding them. Sure, some lucky bots had apertures in their optics that behaved similarly, but it wasn't quite the same.
Starscream was no different from the others, and his favorite eyes belonged to West. He would find himself getting distracted easily, looking at West, watching the way his pupils grew when they met each other's gaze. It made him giddy, and he had to fight the urge to shout his excitement.
On a day that Megatron had blessedly tasked him with patrolling the outskirts of the base, far from the others, he brought West with him, happy to have a chance to stare into his eyes without the threat of reprimand from the others. West settled comfortably against Starscream's palm, looking up at him with a warm smile and bright, adoring eyes. “Hey, Starscream, can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course you can.” Starscream grinned and leaned close, eager to hear what West had to say, and why it was so secret.
West leaned in too, and when their faces were close enough, he pressed a kiss to Starscream's cheek.
Starscream's optics widened and brightened, and his sensors were overwhelmed by a wild giddiness that he couldn't possibly contain. Shielding West with his free hand to protect his ears, he threw his head back as a delighted screech came tearing from his throat. “I love youuu!!”
6. On a sunny tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing through your hair. (Frenrey)
Benrey hated Earth. Of that much he was certain. Its days were too long, its sun was too bright, its residents were all bound by invisible rules that confused and frustrated him. No matter how long he stayed, he couldn't figure out why humans acted the way they did, when they didn't have to, and it did nothing but make Earth all the more unsavory in his heart.
Still, there was something to be said of the way the planet would glow as its closest star began to sink towards the horizon. In those few hours before dark, the world seemed to be dipped in gold, and it made the strange, unfriendly planet seem better, more beautiful.
His favorite part was seeing Gordon standing in the middle of it all, warm tones of his hair and skin made all the more radiant by the sunlight. Gordon seemed to love the sun so much more than Benrey did, and there was a fondness in his bright green eyes as he would watch it settle across the landscape.
Every time, Benrey would get Gordon’s attention, almost jealous that the sun got so much of his favor. “Hey. Babe. Love you.”
Gordon would laugh, a scoff with no malice behind it. “Love you too.” The sunlight would catch on his lashes, and Benrey would remember what he loved about Earth the most.
8. As an apology. (Nerius/Okenos)
Waves crashed against the shoreline as Nerius stared Okenos down. “Stay with me. Here on the surface. You don't have to be damned to a life in the Depths.”
“You know I can't stay," Okenos frowned. “As much as I want to. You know how jealous the Empress is. If anyone sympathetic to her were to see the color of my blood, I'd be culled on the spot.”
“Then you can hide it,” Nerius grew more emphatic. “You already wear that cloth over your eyes when you come to the surface. You could hide the fuschia on your fins and gills easily.”
“And were I to be injured?”
“I will protect you, so you would never bleed.”
Okenos scoffed. “You think you can protect me? You couldn't even protect your own captain.”
“Okenos!” Nerius’ eyes widened, and his fins spread wide with fury. In contrast, Okenos seemed to recognize the gravity of his misstep, growing quite meek and withdrawn.
Hesitantly, he reached to Nerius, brushing his fingertips across his cheek, which had flushed violet from indignance. “I love you…” It was the closest thing to an apology such a proud troll was willing to utter.
Nerius watched as Okenos slipped back into the water, turning back to meet his eyes and lingering, hesitating, before rapidly disappearing beneath the waves. “I love you too.”
11. With a shuddering gasp. (Envaya)
The festivities had come to an abrupt halt with the all-too-familiar sound of a blade sinking into flesh. Enver, who had been speaking so animatedly a moment before, suddenly gasped, then fell silent, face turning an unhealthy color as he registered the feeling of a knife in his back. His reddened eyes met Inbaya’s, and he gasped again as the blade left his body with a sickly sound.
Ever aware of his station, he tried to maintain composure even as he dropped to one knee, then the other, using his arm to keep himself upright. Inbaya rushed to him, screaming in horror.
It was amazing, Enver thought, how cold he felt, so quickly. Even as Inbaya scooped him up, he couldn't stop shivering. He wondered briefly if the knife had been enchanted somehow. He looked up at Inbaya and smiled. “Do… What you must.” His breath trembled as he tried to speak. “I love you.”
In a mere moment, Inbaya was gone, no longer recognizable as the Beast of Bhaal charged towards the would-be assassin and painted the floor with their blood.
13. In a letter. (MesoProwl)
To my most esteemed associate,
I must start by thanking you for your tireless support so far. Without your faith in me, I would not have succeeded as I have, and my wonderful creations would never come to life.
That said, I'm working on something new, something so much greater than anything I've ever done. Something that may surprise even you.
What is the most incredible thing that could ever be crafted by one's hands? Life. And not something as unsophisticated as cold construction. While cold constructs are certainly impressive, my goals are much loftier.
To succeed, I need your support. I need your blessing. In return for your acceptance, I will give you the greatest gift I could give.
With nothing but love in my spark, I eagerly anticipate your response.
-Mesothulas
26. Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave. (Clint/Boone)
“My mind's made up. The answer is no.”
Clint made an effort to keep his tone as gentle as possible, but Boones's expression still twisted with pain. “Why not? I fought by your side so many times over the years… Why is now too far?”
“This ain't like those fights from before,” Clint whispered through grit, “it ain't even like Hoover Dam. Besides, yer out of practice. Beyond that, someone needs ta stay behind with Connor.”
“Connor needs you just as much as he needs me. More than he needs me! Let me go with you!” Boone's voice sharpened. A look from Clint sent it withering in his throat.
Feeling a twinge of pity, Clint's expression softened again. “Yer not goin’ with me, Boone. I'm sorry. That's final.”
Silent, Boone trembled, his hand lifting to grip the sleeve of Clint's duster. “Please… I love you. I can't do this again. I don't have the strength.”
Rather than instill Boone with false hope, Clint simply leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”
29. Slowly, the words dripping from your tongue like honey. (Damian/Lautaro)
Damian Mora wasn't known for being “sweet.” his manner was proud, his tongue was sharp, and most people who knew him had been cut by it at least once.
One person was conspicuously spared his otherwise insatiable mean streak. Lautaro, curiously, got a version of Damian that was tame, tender. Damian showered Lautaro in gifts at random, for no real purpose other than affection. A designer handbag after class, a good-natured milcery the color of sesame out in the wild, Lautaro was absolutely spoiled for options.
Only for Lautaro did Damian dull the cutting edge of his words, and only for Lautaro did Damian whisper sweet nothings throughout the night. His voice turned to honey, sugared and pouring slowly and steadily between his lips as he murmured his love over and over. As he pressed wet kisses to Lautaro's mouth, he whispered the words over and over, feeding them into Lautaro's ever eager throat.
And he would never get bored of it.
31. In awe, the first time you realized it. (JohnnyV)
There was no denying Johnny Silverhand was an absolute pain in the ass. From the very beginning, he had been antagonistic, lashing out and snapping at every little thing, tirelessly frustrated that he wasn't able to affect anything in the world around him. V couldn't stand him.
Over time, though, as Johnny came to accept their unique position, he mellowed, and became something more endearing. He wasn't able to pet the stray cat V had taken in, but he still would manifest himself just to sit next to her and watch over her as she slept. He couldn't play concerts anymore, but he could sit on the couch and strum his guitar, a performance for two people alone.
V found the way Johnny's head swayed in time with music to be so charming, and at some point even Johnny's crass commentary at every little thing became something V happily anticipated. He began to appreciate Johnny's presence, and regretted when Johnny would hide in the corner of his mind and avoid the world.
Realization hit him hard one day, when they were taking in a rare moment of quiet. Johnny caught his gaze, and smiled wide, and it nearly knocked the breath out of V's lungs. “I love you… Oh my god. I love you.”
Johnny's expression faltered for a moment, clearly totally caught off guard, but in usual fashion, he tried to fix his face, smirking. “‘Bout time. I was wondering when you'd realize that.”
V gave him a hard elbow to the arm, and they continued their evening in the same peace, but a little warmer.
