#I really hope you guys like this one

[machveil]

“Don’t go in the basement, Maus.”

…daily König sketch🌹✨ “König?” “Ssh, just focus on me, Schatz.”

hi!! oh my god, this was so fun to draw >:D I don’t even care that I completely ignored my perspective box, I just had such a blast actually drawing this

I spent three hours drawing this, two of which I was streaming to a friend on Discord. in terms of having fun, this is my favorite König drawing because WOW I had such a good time

[how-masterful]

Body and Blood

Dhawan!Master X Reader

Summary: The Master is desperate for you to sink your teeth into him. Literally.

Notes: Wow... does this feel weird! I can only apologise for my lack of fics, please chalk it up to creative frustration on my part! But if there's anything that can inspire me, it's the spooky season. Please enjoy this light bite of a fic, and I hope to drop a few more before the countdown begins on the 18th! It's good to be back! Also please be aware, as the title suggests, there will be blood!

This fic is inspired by something I wrote for the 31 fics of fright series- there's no need to read that one before this, but it's a good companion fic to this one if you like fangs! Find that fic HERE

Sharpened claws cradled the warm flesh of the Master's jaw. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, the accelerated beat of a double pulmonary system, a rhythmic thumping of four. The Master let out a quiet groan, his tongue swiping over parted lips as he exhaled.

Your other hand found purchase on his wrist, your thighs trapping his body against the rumpled covers of the bed, his half-hard cock still buried deep inside from your last round. He shifted beneath you, his hips lightly bucking to bring you closer, his free hand supporting your lower back.

The Master was working on instinct. His body was craving your own once more, despite being utterly spent.

“That's it...” You whispered against his throat, before placing a gentle peck to his skin. The Timelord grunted in reply, his lashes blinking against his cheeks as you lay a teasing trail of kisses down his neck. 

“Give yourself to me this time.”

His skin was fire, an inferno contained within a man, his fingers splaying across your hip as he settled further into your hold. You could feel the tension melt from his muscles with each kiss and peck, his resistance to submit unraveling like yarn in your palms. Adjusting your hold upon his throat, you allowed your teeth to rake against the pulsating vein, teasing the skin with your tongue. The Master shivered, head falling back against your grip as a meek moan escaped him. 

“Yes, love” He pleaded, making no attempt to hide his desperation.

It was wonderfully pathetic watching him fall apart beneath you- his mammoth, audacious bravado melting under the threat of your teeth in his skin. In the distant corner of the room the radio continued to crackle, REO Speedwagon crooning from the speakers. They were right, the Master was unable to fight the feeling anymore- allowing himself to give you everything without even lifting a finger was utterly irresistible. Now it was his turn to be touched, caressed, held like a precious jewel and broken like a treasured toy. 

“Do you want this?” You purred, sickly sweet.

The Master's eyes had fluttered shut long before, his head nodding as he gave a heavy exhale. You teased the vein on his neck once again with your teeth, giving a series of nips to the flesh and watching his panting falter. 

“Do you?”

He hastily nodded once more. You clenched your thighs around his middle, softly grinding against his growing erection, your thumb rising from his jaw to caress across his cheek. His eyes dared to open, pupils blown and hazy.

“Do you want me?”

You whispered, half in play, half in earnest.

The Master, a titan of malice, a renegade monster, the quintessence of evil, whimpered.

He whimpered like a mewling kitten, bucking his hips once again and pulling you back down against his body, encouraging you to push yourself further onto his cock.

“Always,” He promised, “Forever.”

The sound of your pleased hum was a symphony to his senses, the sudden rush of wonder drowning his self control as you sunk your teeth into his neck, your tongue lapping at the thin sheen of sweat as you sucked a deep red mark into his skin. You bit hard, enough to draw a single line of blood, the crimson leaking down the contours of his neck. The master growled, a deeply pleased rumble as your tongue licked it up, streaking the deep maroon across your teeth.

Your eyes met his and he took in the scene- Your lips red and swollen, gaze deadly and sublime. He suddenly pulled his hand from your iron grip, grasping tight at the back of your head, sinking his own claws into your hair. A hiss spat from your lips, eyes widening in anticipation as the Master yanked your head backwards, angling your neck towards himself and pulling your throat to his lips.

He made no effort to tease, to set the mood or build up speed, his tongue swirling over the skin the only warning as he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck. You let out a desperate yelp, feeling the warm trickle of blood begin to flow towards your shoulder- but the Masters tongue was there to clean up the mess long before it could reach.

Once more meeting your eyes, the Master bared his teeth, your own sanguine streaked upon his smile, the adoring grin of a victorious predator. You bared your own teeth, bloodied and vile, the Timelords hearts thundering in tandem with your own as he pulled your lips to meet his.

Rough and coordinated, skilled yet blinded by mad lust, the Master took you upon the bed once more, the pair of you clawing against each other's already marred skin as you satiated your insatiable appetites. 

It was vicious, and it was honest, snatching your breath and leaving you panting against his chest, his hearts beating beneath your temple in a rapturous applause. 

“We should probably get rid of it soon.” You whispered after a while, fingertips idly tracing the heart you'd drawn upon his chest.

The Master hummed in consideration, one arm curled around your middle, the other tenderly playing with your hair, his cock still inside you as you lay in his embrace.

“It’s looking at me funny. And it’s attracting flies.”

The Master's eyes finally pulled from your lips to glance at the body in the chair, the radio beside it still crackling aging ballads into the night. The body had stiffened long ago, its head lolling back on its shoulders as its mouth gaped open, a lonely fly buzzing around its face. It settled upon a glazed eyeball, rubbing its front legs together as it crawled across the bloodied, bulging pupil.

The Master nodded in agreement. He reached across towards the nightstand, taking purchase of the TCE. In an instant the body, once stiff and decaying, was nothing but a shrunken doll. The Master let the device slip from his hand, the golden box joining the shrunken body on the floor as it clattered to the ground, his own body falling back into place as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

[capow02]

I finally finished my new sio drawing!!

[aluminumneedles]

I'm knitting in the corner at a party

and guys my age stop by to tell me I remind them of their aunt, of their grandmother. This is a compliment and I take it as such. They confess to having tried crochet once, and I smile. They get back in line for the bathroom.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and a queer woman sits on the floor next to me, arranges her skirt, and smiles up at me. (I try not to blush.) She asks me all the questions on her mind about my craft and I answer them, hands still moving. We swap yarn sources. She doesn't stay, but she knows where to find me.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and everyone knows where to find me when they need a minute, when socializing is too much and the music is too loud and they need to catch their breath. They pretend to be checking in on me, which is sweet, but I can see the relief in their eyes the moment they stop performing for a house full of people. They sit down and tell me things and all the while they never take their eyes off my hands.

The party has wound down and I'm still knitting and the hosts, two guys in their twenties, thank me for "helping to curate the vibe." I had no idea that's what I was doing. I leave the party having forgotten to drink anything and without that woman's number but with many rows added to my top-down raglan sweater. I call it a night, and a good one.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Phone guy was wild for saying that to Michael..

[lylahammar]

IT'S FALIGON DAY BABYYYYYY I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS DAY SINCE 2018 WE'RE POPPIN MASSIVE BOTTLES 🥳🎉🐉🍾🍻🔥

[koszmarnybudyn]

I found a really good refrence... So Kayne.

Oh also the og refrence under the cut cause i did use it for the background:

[vaguely-concerned]

the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)

after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)

the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol

lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him

[egophiliac]

Your first initial impressions of any Twst character vs your current feelings about them?

honestly, my perception of pretty much every character went through some metamorphosis of "this guy looks like a jerk" to "oh, he's a stupid jerk? now hold on." it's all about that balancing act between a dark brooding asshole and a dark brooding asshole who is also totally ridiculous, and it really does make ALL the difference.

perhaps most ironically, I've mentioned before that I was absolutely not into the Diasomnias at first, because the impression the website gave pre-release was somehow even less favorable than for everyone else and I was mad at Lilia for getting my hopes up for a token girl). and then we got their stories and, well, I kind of just haven't stopped thinking about them since. 🤷

also, I went in thinking that Crowley was going to be. y'know. competent at his job. a helpful guide. a mysterious yet caring mentor figure, a fitting leader for this band of delicate young magic waifs with their fancy little magic outfits and their perfect, perfect hair. I've never been so glad to be wrong.

[fisherrprince]

mmmmmooorrreeee balop

[madootles]

tma tma tma

[nekrosmos]

Sailor Nikolai, loyal first mate of Captain John Price ⚓​🐻​

Bonus alternate versions under keep reading (no bg and lineart only)

[myokk]

note-taking

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3,6k

summary: mc loves flustering sebastian with her notes during class😇

cw: NONE this is just fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, it takes a while for them to admit their feelings, I rated it M for some language/sexual themes

a/n: I laughed a lot as I wrote this on the train, I hope you enjoy reading about these two idiots (endearing) as much as I did writing them

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow's desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it's in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he's crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone were to walk past and look into it, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all week. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to be the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it's working.

Sebastian can't get her out of his mind.

It started in Herbology on Monday, at exactly 7.37 in the morning. Sebastian had been sitting next to Ominis, both complaining under their breaths at how early Professor Garlick had made them wake up (something about the plants blooming - Sebastian can't remember now). He had seen a little snake slither past Ominis's hands, making its way directly to him, and he does remember that he thought it was quite strange that Ominis didn't seem to react to the snake's presence. And then - he took a closer look at it - he saw that it was made of paper. Curious, Sebastian had thought as he grabbed and unfolded it. Reading it started an unfortunate chain of events.

It started out innocently enough, he supposes. Well, if you can call the most indecent thing he's ever read innocent, then it started out innocently.

Sallow - let me just say how absolutely delicious you look in your jacket this morning. I find I want to rip it off of your broad shoulders. Did you hit a growth spurt this summer?

He had flushed, briefly glanced over his shoulder - maybe he could see a face as flushed as his was, watching his reaction, but nothing - before looking back to the note, squinting at the familiar (familiar?) handwriting when Ominis had interrupted him.

"Sebastian? I think we need to start trimming the budding flowers now..."

His voice had blended in with the buzzing in Sebastian's ears as he stared intently down at the note in his hands. He had soon figured out who sent it - how could he not recognize her handwriting? - and the rest of Herbology class had been an absolute disaster. He had spent the whole rest of his time haphazardly massacring his plants and ignoring Ominis's pleas for help as he ruminated on her and what did she mean by her note? Her maddening laughter floated over the sound of tiny, precise snips as Sebastian's classmates did as they were supposed to, boring into his mind as he tried his hardest to figure out what she was up to.

Her plan's working, whatever it is. Sebastian has been frustrated to no end. She's nobody to him, just Anne's annoying best friend. Well, that's not entirely true, and Sebastian doesn't like to lie to himself. She was his closest friend last year, and the year before...ever since she arrived at Hogwarts, really. They did everything together, but something had changed when she visited that summer.

She had spent less time laughing with him, instead choosing to whisper with Anne about Merlin knows what, sometimes looking at him with an expression he couldn't place that had started to drive him crazy.

Sebastian had decided that a certain someone made no sense, that he would ignore the strange way his stomach would flip in her presence, and that he would focus all of his energy into besting her at everything. Maybe if she was embarrassed about being inferior to him, she would stop all of this. Although he would never admit it, he had started having nightmares about her gasping beneath him and needing him, that strange look from the summer flashing in dream-her's eyes, blissful fantasies that have him waking up hard and needing to cast a silencing charm around his bed before he can start his days.

Needless to say, these dreams have become infinitely worse this week.

What started out as a joke has quickly spiraled into an obsession. She soon finds herself watching Sebastian with breathless anticipation every time she sends a note over to him, relishing in the deep flush of his cheeks as he sneaks glances over his shoulder at her.

She doesn't really know what possessed her to start in the first place. A stroke of daring, she supposes as she finishes her latest note with a flourish and charms it to fold itself into a tiny swallow. And, she muses, watching the bird fly towards its victim, it's rather fun to fluster him so.

It's what he deserves, after all, after she has spent a whole year pining after him. A whole bloody year of sighing as he leaned over her shoulder in the library to point at something in her textbook, of his chin resting on top of her head, of warm breath tickling her ears, of watching him defeat every opponent in Crossed Wands, of watching him laugh despite himself at her little quips in Transfiguration. Of making sure -

She stifles a smile as she watches Sebastian eagerly grab the swallow as it flitters towards him. At first, he had tried acting nonchalant, like a cat biding its time before it pounces. Ignoring the notes she's been sending until he can't stand it and then: squashing them, smashing them, trapping them in his large hands, long fingers eager to unfold the note and see what she has to say.

Now, he has abandoned any pretense of aloofness he might have had before.

She can see it in the rigid set of his shoulders. The tension releases somewhat every time he opens a note, but quickly returns as he crumples them up and adds them to his collection. She hopes he's getting as wound up as she is, hopes that he's beginning to know an ounce of the suffering he has been putting her through.

A small voice in the back of her head tells her that she's being unfair, that maybe he's just oblivious - but then, why would he have looked at her like that all summer? And - almost the most maddening thing of all - ever since their seventh year started, he has made it a point to try and best her in every class. She couldn't move on from her silly little crush even if she wanted to, when his deep voice cuts through hers every single class to answer first, when he's always right ahead of her in Potions to get the best ingredients, when he's the one standing across from her in the mock duels in Hecat's class and as he raises his wand and her breath catches in her throat and -... Well, it's only fair, then, that she tries to distract him during class.

She's wondering what the next note should say, is lightly rubbing the edges of the quill's feather against her lips - did she go too far with the latest note? - when the scraping of a chair next to her pulls her out of her thoughts. She jumps at the jarring noise, the quill clatters on the table as it falls, and she feels her own face flush when she sees Sebastian sprawling himself out in the seat right next to hers.

There's a look on his face that she's never seen before and she feels as if all of the air has left her body when he leans in close to her - she could start counting his freckles if her brain hadn't gone completely empty - warm breath tickling her ear as he breathes, "What do you think you're doing?"

She hasn't thought this far ahead.

Why hadn't it occurred to her that Sebastian might confront her about the notes?

"I..." she falters, trying to get her thoughts working again, so that she can find something to say to get her out of this situation. Because she didn't actually want him to notice her, did she? And, what could she possibly say in defense of the filthy things she's been sending him all week? She can't seem to break eye contact with him: she swallows nervously: she tries again: "I -"

Her words fail her once again, when Sebastian's warm hand comes to rest on top of her thigh. Her thick wool skirt might be acting as a barrier between them, but it somehow feels like he's touching her bare skin and her whole body heats up uncontrollably. Even like this, his touch is better - more electric - than what she's been imagining this whole time.

He turns away and pulls parchment out with the hand that isn't actively caressing her thigh, and reaches across her for the quill that has fallen from her fingers. She hears scratching as he starts working on his equations - she vaguely thinks that she should be working on them too, isn't she supposed to be trying to do better than him? But -... her breathing is shallow - all of her nerve endings have seemingly migrated to the spot on her inner thigh that Sebastian's thumb is now massaging in tiny circles - maybe her brain has just packed its bags and left on holiday to Bath for all the use it's giving her now.

He doesn't even spare her a glance during the rest of the class, continues to diligently work on his equations for the first time all week, but his large hand remains on her thigh, completely obliterating any thought from her mind that doesn't have something to do with the warmth that keeps pooling deep in her stomach at his touch.

When the class is blissfully (unfortunately) over, Sebastian finally pulls his hand away and she squeaks in protest against her wishes - her thigh is now cold - that must be it (just discomfort, that's all) - she doesn't feel the relief she thought she would at his absence. He smirks down at the parchment he's rolling up, packs everything into his school bag, and leaves her behind without his eyes darting to hers even once.

Seven notes.

She has sent Sebastian seven bloody notes over the course of the last three days, and as he looks over at the crumpled up papers sitting on the desk in his dorm room, notes he tried his best to smooth out, he feels his heart race increase. He doesn't understand why she's doing this, but he does understand how it's making him feel. He could barely even think during Arithmancy, knowing how much his presence was affecting her, feeling her warm thigh under his hand. And when she protested when he removed his hand, well. He had to get out of there as fast as possible.

Maybe it's a good thing she didn't have the presence of mind to look at his arithmatic equations during class, because they are, unfortunately, incomprehensible. He had to keep up the charade by pretending to scribble for the rest of class, but now he almost regrets it - almost - because his pride won't allow him to ask Amit for his notes.

Sebastian has spent the evening poring over his textbook, trying to make sense of something that should be coming easily to him - Anne doesn't tease him about his strange obsession with numbers for no reason - and yet, his eyes keep wandering over to her notes. (Why did he even take them out of his bag in the first place?) (Why hasn't he burned those blasted things yet?) He has decided to forego studying in the library, the common room, and the Undercroft (places where he might see the object of his inner turmoil), and yet he is still getting nothing done even in the peaceful silence of his dormitory. Because her letters are shouting at him.

Well, not really, as they aren't Howlers. They might as well be, though, with how much he has reread them since he took them out of his bag. A smile spreads across his face despite himself as he puts his plaid jacket - the one he wore on Monday - on his chair to wear tomorrow. That stupid smile doesn't leave his face as he brushes his teeth next to Ominis before bed (thanking Merlin that Ominis is blind and can't pester him about what he cannot see), nor does it leave as he tries to fall asleep that night.

Suffice it to say, Sebastian does not get much sleep that night.

"...caught her snogging Prewett in the boathouse."

"Oh Merlin." A giggle. "I wonder if he's any good. Don't look at me like that, I know you've wondered the same thing..."

She blushes as she tucks her head down, trying to concentrate on the reading before her but it's difficult. First, because Sacharissa is being entirely too loud as she gossips with Grace - they might be some of the first at breakfast, but that doesn't mean they're alone - and second, because she is reading the book she filched from Sacharissa's bag. It's been charmed to look like a History of Magic textbook (nobody would ever be interested enough in one of those to filch it back) and she hopes that it's enough to make sure that no one distracts her in her research.

She has never had experience of the amorous sort before, and she has run out of things to put in the letters she's been sending to Sebastian - they were all just things she had been thinking, or things that she's overheard the boys saying when they thought they were alone. But what she's been reading in Sacharissa's novel - if it can even be called that - are enough to make her so hot and bothered that she's not sure if she should retreat back to her dorm room to read it in peace. As her eyes fly over the words, she pictures Sebastian doing those things to her, with her, and it's enough to make it so she's not even sure she can look him in the eye ever again. The feeling of his hand on her thigh the day before has imprinted itself on her body and in her brain and she barely got any sleep because of it.

"What are you reading?" asks Anne as she plops herself down on the bench, trying to look over her shoulder. She flinches and slams her book shut as fast as possible, feeling her traitorous face heat up. She knows she's making it all more suspicious, but Anne cannot find out. Anne shrugs and starts buttering her toast, stifling a yawn. "I never knew that the Vampire Treatises of the 15th century were so interesting. By the way, have you seen my brother at all? I couldn't find him last night and - Oi, Sebastian!"

Anne stands halfway up and starts waving him over, and she wishes she could vanish. Maybe, instead of researching fresh ways to torture him, she should have been learning how to most effectively vanish oneself from the face of the Earth. She's sure the heat she feels burning her cheeks as she sees him walk over to them is translating to her face being a bright, red, ugly beacon calling to him.

As he walks over to their table, looking entirely too irresistible in that plaid jacket of his, Merlin, his growth spurt really -

"Ladies," he says, nodding at them as he takes a seat across the table, "how did you sleep?"

She knows he's giving her a pointed look as he asks, but she has started to choke on the pumpkin juice she started drinking as he walked over - she is, unfortunately, picturing them doing some of the filthy things she's just read together - and could she really make more of a fool of herself than she already has at this point? But then - he grabs her book. Her heart lurches but she can't do anything due to the fact she's still spluttering over her pumpkin juice, and she watches in horrified fascination as he starts flicking through the pages. His eyebrows raise steadily higher and higher as he reads, his own face turning a shade of red she's certain matches her own. She curses herself again - vampires are so interesting, of course he would want to read about them - she should have made the cover a topic she knows Sebastian hates, like a compendium of spells to boost fingernail growth or a Duncan Hobhouse biography - but it's too late now.

Sebastian clears his throat and glances at her, and she sees uncertainty, vulnerability in his eyes as they make brief contact with hers. Finally her brain starts working - quite possibly for the first time since she started this stupid game in Herbology on Monday - and she hastily stands up, snatching the book from Sebastian's hands - he puts up no resistance - and clutches it to her chest as she blurts out in one breath: "I-slept-terribly-last-night-and-it's-all-thanks-to-you."

And now, she's fleeing the Great Hall, wondering what's gotten into her.

She next sees Sebastian during their Ancient Runes class. Well, she doesn't actually see him: she's made it a point to be the first to enter the class, and keeps her head down as she stares at her parchment the second everything is set up perfectly. Inkwell - parchment - her stupid replacement quill - textbook - everything is in place. After the disastrous event otherwise known as breakfast, she's decided that she's over her silly little crush, and she will never think about Sebastian Sallow again. She will never think about things she might say that will make him laugh again, she will never think of book recommendations again, she will certainly never think of his strong hands caressing her thigh again, and she will never, ever -

A tiny paper fox climbs into her hand.

I didn't get any sleep last night either, because of you. P.S. I still have your quill.

She flushes and looks over her shoulder. Sebastian flashes her a crooked smile that makes her stomach lurch in an unfamiliar way, before he ducks his head down and continues to scribble his translations with her quill. Her quill. A new flash of hatred surges through her - that's what these intense feelings must be - and she decides she needs to get it back.

Instead of translations, she hatefully scribbles down everything that she wants to do to Sebastian Sallow - she wants punch his stupid face, wait: she wants to kiss his stupid freckled face and hold his silly beautiful hands and she wants to feel the deep rumble of his laugh after her jokes as she rests her head on his shoulder and she wants to read next to him and have things be back to how they always were, and yet she wants more than that, more than just being friends, it's what she's wanted all along, isn't it? - and she marches after him when the class has finished.

Sebastian doesn't spare her a glance even though he has to know she's behind him with how much noise her frustrated huffing makes as they weave through the throngs of students in the hallways. It's lunchtime, and yet instead of heading to the Great Hall, he's leading her somewhere else.

He finally stops when they reach the top of the Astronomy Tower, and she opens her mouth to protest. She knows she's terribly flushed, her chest heaving as she glares up at him: "You are despicable! I need my quill -"

She's cut off from speaking as before she knows it, his hands are caressing her face and he is kissing her. Oh, Merlin, it's better than she could have hoped it to be, and her own traitorous body and mind have forgotten the alliance formed against him in the face of Sebastian Sallow's persistence and she's wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down closer, making sure he can't get away from her again.

Maybe later she can show him all of her notes on how much she hates him and they can have a laugh. Maybe later they can revisit some passages from the book she filched.

But right now, she doesn't let go of Sebastian.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Hi!! Your Cherik is so good and gorgeous 🤩🤩 If you don't mind wanna try to draw some Fall of X Cherik please?

thank you so much !!

i have a couple of ideas relating to the fall of x period specifically since theres. A Lot i wanna play with, so i hope this lil thing may be a satisfactory start :]]

and the obligatory bonus:

[ricky-mortis]

“You’re a caveman. And I’ve invented fire.”

Close-ups under the cut :)

[kizzer55555]

Welcome to the Restraint! (Restaurant)

Imagine Danny runs to Gotham and starts squatting in an abandoned old building in Crime Alley. Slowly putting some ecto into the place to claim it as his haunt (while recovering from the sudden loss of his old one). And he does the normal stuff to survive. Finds some odd jobs, often as a messenger, and is just surviving. Another thing he does is make his own food. It’s cheaper than takeout and he’s gotten pretty good at cooking (out of necessity instead of eating sentient hotdogs). Then he ends up accidentally taking in some street kids. Or more like they follow him home. He can’t just turn them away so he makes a meal for them and lets them stay the night then sends them on their way. And then it happens again. And again. And ok, so maybe he saved a girl from getting molested. And that older guy from getting his only good blanket stolen. And sure, maybe letting that poor pizza delivery guy rant was unnecessary but he looked like he was having a bad day ok? Pretty sure that kid with the scar is a meta too but…he needed a place to stay a few nights alright? It’s not like any of them stay permanently. Danny’s started picking up a few more odd jobs to pay for all the extra food he’s had to buy. Always keeping his place stocked. At least he doesn’t have to pay for water and a fridge, he just makes some ice (or melts it). Sure the water is cold, but it’s probbaly the cleanest water in Gotham. And then some of the people start paying. Like…actually paying in exchange for food. Not sure if it’s because of guilt or pity but Danny won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And with all the money, he hasn’t had to take as many dangerous jobs. Soon, his little abandoned apartment became what’s essentially the closest thing to a legitimate restaurant in Crime Alley.

It didn’t look normal. The chairs and tables were more like old couches and stools pulled up to coffee tables and cabinets turned on their side. Although with the bulling becoming more like Danny’s haunt, the walls naturally started repairing themselves so at least it didn’t look like it was gonna collapse anymore. And ok…so Danny might have rescued a few feral kids who…weirdly have gold eyes. And possibly stopped a meta trafficking ring on accident. And look, these people didn’t have anywhere to go! And the apartment did have empty rooms. It was already known as a place someone could crash for the night (last winter the entire place was cramped with people. Danny had to break up multiple fights but they usually calmed down when he got there.)

One benefit from controlling a haunt is controlling the temperature inside so it was one of the only buildings with ‘heat’. But back to his…strays. So yeah…most didn’t seem like they could rejoin society…so he let them stay. And…they kind of became employees? Impromptu bodyguards? (Some of the golden eyed people almost felt like he was rangling feral ghosts again.) they came in all ages. A few kids, lots of teens, and a few adults. Same with the metas he rescued. They mostly helped deliver food to costumers. They even got a phone line working and could take orders. (Although the new…employees…also got more protective whenever a fight broke out.) With all the extra money he’s been getting he was even able to afford some medical supplies. A lot of his customers(?) came in injured and he tried his best to patch them up but now he could do more than tie some ripped clothing around the wound and use ice to numb it. He’s got bandages. And pain killers. Plus other medical stuff. He can even give someone stickers now! All that experience as an injured vigilante was paying off. Even Villains and goons start attending this place. The place was unofficially designated as one of the Alley’s ‘safe zones’ where no fighting takes place inside (the body guards make sure of it.) the metas and Talons are getting an identity for themselves, the street kids even get a job and a hideout, random people can go there for help or to pass messages, this place provides food, shelter, and medical care. No one wants it going down.

So yeah, welcome to the restaurant!

(I’m debating whether I want this to be the weirdest restaurant/safe place/truce area in the alley, or whether I want Danny to accidentally become a crime lord. Possibly both.)

Also, this place is called the Restraint because I keep misspelling Restaurant and I think Danny would do the same so the name stuck. (Or one of the kids spelled it when making a sign or passing around messages to spread the word of this safe place.)

So anyways, to add some angst, after Danny adopts a bunch of crime alley kids/villains they find out about Danny’s powers and that he’s a ghost, only they don’t know about Halfas so they think Danny is fully dead and this super kind guy who has been the only person to ever treat them like people…died. He died likely a long time ago and there’s nothing any of them can do to change that.

(And if the GIW dare to come into the alley, they better be prepared for the entire place to turn on them.)