#creativedeath

[zinthefuture60111]

Not my best work but there is almost no content of this ship out there so please make more people im begging.

[cd-with-a-keyboard]

i continue to fail writing anything long so you know what i’m just gonna make some random prompt up and go with it.

creativedeath because i know @laurarose1701 likes the ship and they cute okay

-

Ink by myebi/comyet

Reaper by renrink

-

Reaper sighed as he felt yet another nudge against his back.

“You know, I’m working,” he said in a carefree tone, beginning to reap the soul he had been harvesting.

Ink let out a small huff from behind him, walking around to meet his gaze with his paintbrush in hand.

“I’m working too!” he argued, crossing his arms as his eyelights shifted into to red diamonds. “We’re technically always working, so pleaaase, Reaper?”

Reaper sighed, setting his scythe aside. “C’mon, Inky. You know I hate it as much as you. Just give me a minute, okay?”

Ink watched him continue on with the task at hand with a look on his face. He sighed, plopping down cross-legged next to the scythe.

He looked at it for a moment, before an idea came to mind.

He glanced at Reaper, making sure he wasn’t looking, before scooting closer. He held his brush in the air, slowly trying to bring the scythe closer to himself. After a few moments, he managed to catch hold of the space between the blade and the handle, and brought it into his hands.

He looked between them for a moment, smiling like a madman. He held the scythe in his left hand—a bit closer to the blade than it should’ve been—, and Broomie in his right.

“Oh, Seth, what ever will I do without you?” He began acting in a higher-pitched voice, wiggling Broomie up and down as though it were meant to be talking.

“I’m sorry, Broomie, but I have to do this. You have to stay here.”

Reaper overheard, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Once he caught sight of Ink leaning into the brush with an odd duck-faced expression, he chuckled a bit and began to watch.

“But Seth! I can’t live without you!”

“I know, Broomie. You’ll have to stay strong..”

“Nooo!~” Ink dramatically launched Broomie into the air, throwing it over his shoulder and falling onto his back for extra effect.

Reaper let out a small snort, leaning over to watch the play. Ink’s expression shifted into a smirk, and Reaper realized too late what’d he’d done.

“Ink!” Reaper cried, as Ink suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck and began to pull him down face-to-face with him.

“Are you done with work, now?” Ink asked with a child-like and clearly faked pout on his face, staring slightly up at him to create the ultimate puppy-eyed expression.

“I—I..” Reaper stuttered, staring down at him, caught off guard. “Oh, fine.”

Ink snorted as he shifted his eyes away, and Reaper narrowed them at him.

His expression suddenly melted when Ink leaned in for a kiss, and after freezing for a second, he began to lean into it eagerly. They smiled against each other before breaking apart.

“So, Nice Cream?” Ink asked happily, still holding Reaper in place with both hands.

“Sure, Nice Cream sounds great,” Reaper replied, pulling him upwards and leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

He sighed dramatically, picking up his scythe as Ink walked over to grab Broomie. “You know just what to do to get your way, don’t you, Ink-drop?”

Ink grinned wildly, turning around to look over at him. “Yep!”

[reallifesickpoetry-blog]

one of my favorite poets doing her duty in the kitchen