destructivedeath, F
F. An absent look or touch.
Words: >500
Reaper sharply inhales, jolting as he looks for Error, expecting pain or agony but not finding it. Instead, he is met with a mildly irritated (which is pleasant for Error) and confused glare. âWhat?â
â⌠You touched me.â He softly breathes out, his head spinning. Again and again, like a carousel, he replays the sensation of that touch. The lightest warmth between their knuckles. He doesnât realize heâs stopped moving, because it feels as if the world is rushing past him. The night is dark, only barely illuminated by the street lamps dotting the path through the park. Over them, only the moon is witness to Reaperâs relief.
â⌠Did I?â
He feels a slight uncertainty at Errorâs absent response. Did he really? But he knew he felt it. It wasnât like the time Errorâs sleeve brushed his fingers or like when his scarf ghosted over his chest. He knows this, knew for certain, with startling and growing clarity- it was him. It was that slightest warmth, the strange numb sensation that was Errorâs presence. It was everything. They had touched, and Reaper- he needed to do it again.
Slowly, he reaches out his palm, face up, to the other man. It reflects the warm lamp of the street lights around them. Error stares at him with a furrowed brow, his shoulders drawn up slightly. The unsaid offer is clear.
âPlease,â and Errorâs eyes widen as Reaper fights not to take a step forward. To chase him down and grab him and never let go. His voice is small, contrary to his need. âGive it a chance?â
Mismatched eyes flickers between his slightly shaking fingers and his expression. His brows lower, his mouth stretching into that usual scowl, Reaper braces for rejection-
Warmth. Not warmth, but something scalding hot. Alive, thrumming with life, brimming and sparking and numbing his fingers it was so alive. Screaming and yelling from every height that it was alive, defiant and angry and purposeful, destructive and so, so alive.
He closes his fingers slowly around Errorâs hand. His other hesitantly comes up with it. Error warns it off, and it falls back limply to his side.
âThank you.â He sighs.
Error grumbles, visibly grimacing as his arm jitters with white squares and glitches. âShut up.â
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Palestine will be free.
Please help how you can: here's a masterpost. Thank you so much to @/sulfurcosmos for keeping it updated.
ink by comyet
swap by p0pcornpr1nce
dream by jokublog
killer by rahafwabas
color by superyoumna
horror by sour apple studios
farm by guinongtale_au
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you can click on this button once daily to help palestine and support other causes in the middle east for free. it takes literally 5 seconds and could help save lives so please take the time to click and share this link.
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AROMANTIC, ASEXUAL, & AROACE PEOPLE ARE VAILD
For my designs of the varies heads, I wanted the asexual one to be predominantly masculine because of how "taboo" it is for someone who idenifies as male to not want to be sexually active. Or how "being a real man" depends on use of sexual organs.
The aroace and aromantic designs are mostly feminine, based on the socialtly push for women to get married and have kids. That it is "a womens duty on this earth".
Obivously these crititisms aren't something that are gender spectific, every thing that I'm making points to critisize can be applied to the oppisite sex (alswell as genderfluid & non-bi peeps). These are just the ones I've heard or been faced with the most and are therefore a little bit more presonal to me
Since making the other pride dragons, I realized that despite being a apart of the lgbqt + communtity, I havn't really took part in it. Sure I made my coming out public knowlegde and I ship queer relationships all the time, but I've never really made a stand. So here I am, making a stand <3
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made a little something for classâ
some rough boards and concept sketches for the vid!
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