Sebinis - Blog Posts
Even with a finger, it's still amazing 😭🫶🏼🤍
I lost my apple pencil so had to draw this with my finger….. safe to say it shows RIP.
Anyway, in the fashion of a proper comic I created a test slide of this style. WIP to gauge your reactions. Thumbs up for ‘finish a whole comic like this or I’ll break ur every bone’ & thumbs down for ‘by god delete this before broad masses are starting to gather’????
This is not part of a storyline, it’s just a scene that popped into my head (Could become solid tho….)
I shall do your bidding. Pls just let me know. I can’t function until I got this out of my system.
The art is sooo good 😭❤️
OMG 😭😭🤍🤍🤍
This is a work of art 🛐
Keep it up 💪🏼
(the art is not mine, it belongs to @latymerct's)
Ominis fearing that Sebastian’s devotion is to the Gaunt name and not him
original meme
I couldn't help but draw them like that xD
hey! this is not exactly art, but nevertheless. gingerbread for a raffle in Russia (one set went on sale).:>
I'm going to make sebinis gingerbread cookies for a prank, but I have no idea what to make except for two chibis. There should be 7 cookies. I already have 3 (Sebastian, Ominis and mistletoe, hehe), and I need to come up with 4. If you have any ideas, please share!
Я собираюсь сделать имбирные пряники с себинисами ради розыгрыша, но понятия не имею, что делать, кроме двух чибиков. Должно быть 7 печенек. У меня уже есть 3 (Себастьян, Оминис и омела, хе-хе), и нужно придумать еще 4. Если у вас есть идеи, пожалуйста, поделитесь!
Now the ff with the mermaid Ominis is available in translation in English! I recommend reading it.:>
Rusalka
With some delay I want to present you a fanfic for the 8th day of Gaunting Salloween on the theme of mermaids (but with slavic mythology)! And it is translated into english! (there are 2 chapters, but chapter 2 is the same text in the original)
day 3 - vampire and day 12 - pumpkin. a bit late, but I had a lot of work. due to titanic fatigue, I had to abandon the version with dancing. however, maybe I will be able to finish drawing this version later. I'm terrible with color, yes, but I've decided to challenge it sometimes. and again fanart for my favorite ff. the link to it can be found in one of the posts below, I have already drawn for it. I love it! The guys are having a great Halloween!<3
day nine - fire. A little sketch of the famous moment when these two idiots studied Confingo and were left without eyebrows. I love this story! HAHA
oh, here comes day eight - merfolk! as i promised, something special for this day.
this art is an illustration for a fanfic by @gian-blackbell on the same topic. now her fanfic can only be read in Russian, but later it will be released in English translation (both versions can be found on AO3).
this art is a big reference to the famous painting by Viktor Vasnetsov "Alyonushka" (the idea belongs to @gian-blackbell)
I AM VERY BAD AT BACKGROUNDS AND PAINTING FORGIVE ME DD:
it was decided to make in this theme not a classic mermaid, but a mermaid from Slavic mythology. i adore Slavic mythology! drowned women become mermaids there. gloomy! but like a second life for the unfortunate.
i adore how unnatural the wreath of wildflowers looks in this autumn atmosphere. when everything withers and dies, the flowers (sebastian's feelings that he put into this wreath) are still alive. alive on the non-living body of his lover.
i feel very insecure with color. this work is a kind of step towards getting rid of the fear that makes me freeze at the color stage of drawing. i know that i'm not very good at it… but if i don't do anything, i won't learn anything, right?..
special thanks to the incredible @gian-blackbell! i really liked your ff (i'm literally in love with it, HAHA)! thanks for the support and your ideas!
Hi! I combined the third day and the twelfth so that my work would correspond to my favorite Sebinis fanfic. So let's move on to the fourth day - death. There is no path darker than the path with closed eyes. (c) Flemeth, Dragon Age. This quote suits Sebastian perfectly. He craves power, and believes that he can find it in dark magic, naively believing that he can cope with this terrible, destructive knowledge. He thinks that he is smarter than others (we were all teenagers, sigh). And only when the most terrible of unforgivable curses flies from his lips, Sebastian's eyes open. Too bad it was death that helped him see the truth. I will probably skip the next few topics, because I do not really like them, but I can promise you something interesting for the day of "merfolk".>3
Day 2 of the challenge - werewolf. I had no ideas at all on how to play this theme in the Sebinis format, but I really love memes. Twilight is exactly what many associate with autumn. and Sebastian's cute werewolf hairstyle is a nod to 2010s furry culture. analogue of the Russian meme from twitter. i think i'm very funny! HAHA
Hi! (I'm so excited, omg!) First day of Gaunting Salloween! I don't know if I'll draw every day from the challenge, but I really want to participate. Doll. I really wanted to convey that Ominis is ready to give in to Sebastian in his plans. Voluntary acceptance of the Imperius - raised hands. Ominis gives in. He loves Sebastian, and this forces Gaunt to go for his friend. Ominis is a hostage of his feelings and affection for Sebastian. This controls him like a doll.
Hi! Two weeks ago my account was shadowbanned on tumblr. ;-; I couldn't write comments, receive messages, my posts weren't showing up in tag searches. My account became invisible. This deprived me of views and other activity. :( I'm very sad about this, but I'm going to make up for lost time.
Today, support finally managed to help me. And I re-posted some of my works. I would be grateful if you were active under them.👉👈 Thank you!
I dilute my sadness about lost time with cute sebinis based on a popular Twitter meme.<3
I love them very much.<33
A scene from my favorite fanfic! >\\\< S: The soft pink shade of rose petals really suits you! You look cute!
I'm very afraid to paint in color, but here I had to do it. ;-;
potentia
The first months at Hogwarts are equal parts disorienting and exhilarating. The castle itself is a marvel—vast, breathing, alive in a way no place you've ever known could be. The classrooms are strange, the subjects stranger, and the rules seem to change depending on who’s watching. It's quite a lot to take in.
But like they say: one bad apple spoils the bunch.
And, apparently, that apple is you.
Being raised as a muggle—a word spat more often than spoken—has a way of turning wonder into sourness. Professor Fig filled your head with stories, and maybe that’s what set you up for disappointment. You expected awe. Instead, you got thinly veiled condescension and a rotating cast of classmates who smile at you like you're part of a long-term charity project. You have acquaintances in spades. Friends, not so much. You’ve stopped being picky.
One of the few who seems indifferent enough to treat you like an equal is Sebastian Sallow. Whether that’s a blessing or a curse depends entirely on the day.
You met him on your very first afternoon, partnered off for a Defense duel. You followed Professor Hecat’s instructions to the letter—protego, stupefy, disarm, repeat. You broke his shield, lifted him clean off the floor, and just as your next spell formed on your tongue—
A red spark flew towards you, exploding in your face with a loud, deafening bang.
You don’t remember hitting the ground. Only the jolt of stone against your spine and the copper tang of blood at the back of your throat. Somewhere above you, Hecat’s voice snapped through the ringing in your ears, full of fury and disbelief.
"Absolutely not—Bombarda is prohibited, Mr. Sallow!"
From the ground, the world spinning, you wondered if this “Hogwarts Welcome” was improper without a possibility of being shipped home in a casket before the first week was out.
Hecat kept him after class, though not before he sauntered over to where you were still catching your breath.
“Sorry, mate,” he said, his brow furrowed in a cartoonish imitation of concern. “You’re practically a first year. Would’ve looked proper shite if I lost.”
He was strong—you couldn’t deny that, and strength was what you needed. That’s why you begged Professor Weasley to let him come with you to Hogsmeade, yanking him out of detention with Hecat. He repaid you by inviting you to some underground dueling club as if it were a fair trade. With Sallow, it’s always a transaction. Always one thing for another.
The boy is proper insane, you quickly learn —charismatic in the way a collapsing building is: destructive and impossible to ignore. The girls gawk but never approach, the professors uphold the rules but don’t provoke. Even his own house keeps its distance.
On the pitch, he’s no different. A Beater with a blunt weapon and no restraint, he barrels through players with no regard if they are opponents or teammates. The team’s been winning more since he joined, though whether that’s due to skill or sheer intimidation is anyone’s guess. You wonder if the matron gets paid extra on match days—she probably spends half the afternoon restocking potions and preparing for broken bones when she knows Sallow’s playing.
Still, his grades are pristine. It’s less an accident and more a calculated offering—his way of buying just enough tolerance to stay enrolled. But the patience of the staff is wearing thin. You once overheard the Deputy Headmistress warning him, after a particularly nasty fight with some seventh-year Gryffindor, her voice clipped and barely restrained, that from that point on, he’s on probation. One more outburst, and he’s done. No appeals. No indulgence.
Some compare him to Headmaster Black. You disagree. Black is pompous, yes. Unbearable, often. But at least he's grounded—chained by his name, title, reputation. Sallow is a different kind of scum. He is feral, unburdened by pedigree, unrepentant in every way that matters. Dangerous not because he’s cruel—plenty people are—but because he doesn't see cruelty as a problem.
Better with him than against him, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
Which is why it surprises you when he finds you after fall break, shoulders slouched and that ever-present smirk nowhere in sight.
“Oi, a word?” he calls out, catching you halfway through a paragraph in the common room.
You glance up from your book. “Sure.”
He waits until you’re standing, leans in close—his tall frame towering over you, as you straighten your back to the best of your ability in attempt to level with him. His robes reek of cigarette smoke—an unpleasant, and yet oddly nostalgic reminder of the world you left behind.
“It’s about my twin. Anne,” he says, voice low, unusually serious. “Saw her over the break. She’s in a bad way—worse than before. I don’t know how much longer she has left.”
Sebastian doesn’t like many people. He barely tolerates most. But Anne—you know enough to understand she’s the exception. His better half. He’s mentioned her only in passing, just enough to paint a vague picture: a dark curse, cast last summer, left her bedridden ever since.
“How can I help?” you ask, watching his hand fiddle with the wand at his side.
He doesn’t answer right away, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one’s listening in.
“Have you heard of Slytherin’s scriptorium?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“When Salazar was still headmaster, it was his private chamber—or so the rumors say.”
“And you think it has something to do with Anne’s condition?”
“I think it might have answers,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. “I don’t know where it is, but Ominis might. His family knows the Slytherin house from the inside out. If the Gaunts know anything, he does.”
“Right,” you deadpan. “But Ominis is your friend. Why not ask him yourself?”
“I did,” he says, a twitch of annoyance flickering across his face. “He said he didn’t know anything about it.”
Sebastian’s eyes glint then, sharp and certain. “But I know he’s lying. So—please? Hm?” He tilts his head, a caricature of innocence curling at the edges of his mouth.
There it is. A favor. You know this dance all too well.
Even in sadness, he scares you. Not in the way monsters do, but in the way nature does—a storm you see forming but are too late to run from. His stare is heavy, calculated, like he’s already carved your answer out of you with nothing but willpower.
And he has.
“Okay,” you say.
· · ·
You wait for Ominis at his usual spot on the staircase landing, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. When he finally arrives, you reach out and awkwardly tap his shoulder.
He startles slightly—then calms as his wand twitches once in your direction.
“It’s you,” he says, sounding both relieved and weary.
“Hi, Ominis,” you say, desperately hoping your voice doesn’t give out your anxious mood.
You and Ominis are hardly close—acquaintances by proximity, maybe, but Sebastian is the only link you have in common. More often than not, you feel like the third, distant point of a crooked triangle—an outsider looking in.
You wouldn’t mind you two becoming friends, if only Sebastian didn’t make Ominis so hard to approach. There’s something strangely possessive in the way he treats him—like a child with a precious toy no one else is allowed to touch. You’ve seen it. The sharp glances he casts across rooms when Ominis speaks to someone new are way too obvious. Their relationship is hard to define. They are friends, yes—but calling them that feels like trying to describe a wildfire as simply warm. Where an untrained eye sees tenderness, those who truly observe see a parasite and its victim, tangled in an unbreakable symbiotic bond.
Ominis isn’t stupid. He knows you wouldn’t have sought him out unless you were put up to it. Before you can even open your mouth, he exhales through his nose, as if bracing himself for the inevitable. He sits with a tired sigh, lowering himself onto the stairs and smoothing his robes across his knees like a man preparing for bad news.
“Did Sebastian send you?” he asks, and his voice is already frayed at the edges.
You shift under the weight of it—of the truth behind your ribs, guilt blooming sharp and sudden. “No,” you say. “It was my decision.”
A pause. He turns his head just slightly in your direction, his sightless eyes blank and unreadable, though his expression betrays no such mercy.
“Really.”
“I want to help him,” you say. “Anne’s getting worse.”
“But there must be ways to cure her that don’t involve dark magic,” he snaps, all softness gone. His hands curl into the fabric of his robes. “I know it feels impossible right now, but there are other paths.”
You see his patience exhausting by the second—likely already worn thin from Sebastian’s attempt to probe the secret out of him. And still, you push.
“Ominis, please—”
“I don’t know!” The words detonate, louder than he intends. They bounce off the stone walls, sharp and startling. Color surges to his face, blotching his pale cheeks with hot, humiliated red. You can see Ominis bite down on the inside of his lip, furious with himself for the outburst. “I don’t know where it is, alright? Leave me alone.”
Your head turns instinctively, scanning the corridor. But the air here is still. Silent. Deserted. You have learned that this tucked-away corner of the castle is nearly always empty—maybe that’s why Ominis favors it. Intended or not, it’s the only place you can speak at without fearing who might be listening.
You steady your voice. Try a different tack—a gentler one.
“Then let’s go together,” you say, quiet but firm. “Just you and me. We’ll look, nothing more. If there’s anything useful, I’ll tell him after.”
He flinches. “No.” The word is clipped, immediate, as if scorched into his throat. “If Sebastian finds out we went without him, he’ll kill you.”
You hesitate—then lay down the last card you have.
Your next words come slower, heavier. “He was in tears this morning, Ominis. Wrecked. He begged me. I’ve never seen him like that. It—” Your voice hitches. “It really feels like Anne’s out of time.”
And that does it.
Ominis’s entire body seems to crumple inward, like something inside him has snapped quietly in two. He draws his knees up, wraps his arms around them, and bows his head with a sigh that drains the air from the room.
“Fine,” he says. The word is small, frayed, almost lost in the hush of the hallway. “We’ll go together. You and me. He can’t know.”
“Okay,” you say softly, but do you really mean it? Now that the secret is yours, it feels like a betrayal simply waiting to hatch. If Sebastian finds out you went behind his back—even for his sake—it won’t end with just a wound.
Ominis straightens slightly, voice returning with brittle resolve. “Meet me after curfew. By the Slytherin entrance.” He tilts his head toward you, the air between you thickening. “And don’t tell him I told you anything.”
“I won’t,” you say, your voice quick and too ready.
“I’m serious,” he says, turning toward you sharply. Even without sight, his gaze has weight. “You don’t understand what you’re getting into. And if you breathe a word of this to him—”
“I won’t,” you repeat quietly. You glance away—you can’t face him. “I promise.”
Ominis rises without another word—his rest ruined. His footsteps fade, and soon all that’s left is a loud slam of a heavy wooden door.
A quiet rustle from above prompts you to look up.
There he is—Sebastian—at the top of the staircase, one elbow resting on the railing, chin lazily propped in his palm. His posture is relaxed, casual. His lips are curled into a smile—the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes.
He nods to you slightly, satisfied with the outcome. See?—you can read from his expression—I knew he’d say yes.
You wonder if he ever left you alone with Ominis at all.
· · ·
You pace restlessly in the dim corridor, veiled beneath the shimmer of a Disillusionment Charm. The torches flicker low against the damp stone walls, casting long shadows across the floor.
Then it happens—the sound of shifting stone. A massive serpent, carved into the wall, slithers mechanically across the surface, revealing the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room. The heavy door grinds open, and Ominis steps out into the corridor.
“Come,” he says without missing a beat, his wand twitching subtly toward your presence. He doesn't stop walking. His pace is quick, tense, purposeful—he clearly wants this over with. You jog to catch up, trailing a few steps behind, struggling to match his stride.
The route he leads you on is narrow and winding, a twisting maze of passages that seem to fold in on themselves. You lose track of direction quickly, landmarks vanishing into shadows. You try to keep mental notes, but it’s hopeless. Wherever he’s taking you, it’s nowhere you’ve been before.
Finally, you reach a dead end. The silence feels louder here.
“We’re here,” Ominis says, his voice low. “Wait—”
You feel it before you hear it—the unmistakable presence behind you. Your pulse spikes as you brace yourself for what is about to transpire.
“Sebastian,” Ominis says. It’s not a question. It’s an accusation wrapped in disappointment.
Then he turns sharply on you, his eyes finding yours with surprising ease. “How could you?” He hisses out.
“I pried it out,” Sebastian cuts in before you can speak. “I’m sorry, Ominis, but I can’t let the two of you go alone. What if something happens?”
“That was the entire point!” Ominis snaps, voice echoing harshly in the stone tunnel. “For you not to go!”
“It’ll be fine,” Sebastian says, more force than comfort in his voice.
“No, it won’t be fine!” Ominis shouts. “This was a mistake. I’m done. I’m leaving.”
You feel the need to step in, a desperate instinct to stop this from unraveling completely.
“I’ll supervise,” you say. “I’ll make sure nothing happens—”
“Shut up!” Ominis whirls on you again, voice shaking with fury. “You know nothing! I should’ve never agreed to this.”
Sebastian tries again, his tone firmer now, more grounded. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake? You think I’d let you get hurt?”
Ominis’s voice trembles. “I know what dark magic does, I’m already involved. I won’t let you drag yourself in it too. Not even for Anne.”
You say nothing, but in your heart, you agree with Ominis. It isn’t Sebastian’s safety you fear—it’s what he might become. He’s already volatile, already dangerous. If he gets his hands on the wrong manuscripts, you worry not just for him, but for the wizarding world. Had you thought it through more carefully, you doubt you would have agreed to any of this.
You stand, helpless, as the exchange of words turns into an argument. Sebastian is calm, but Ominis is quickly losing control of his emotions.
You can see it happening—Ominis is spiraling, unraveling by the second. His breathing shortens. His fingers twitch. His expression crumbles beneath the weight of fury and dread and helplessness.
“Hey—” Sebastian’s expression changes—you could have sworn you saw a flicker of concern on his face. Quickly, he closes the distance between the two of them, cupping Ominis’s face gently in his hands. “Ominis. Hey—”
His thumbs brush across Ominis’s cheeks in a slow, grounding motion.
“Hey, listen to me, alright?”
The gesture catches you off-guard, too intimate to comfortably observe. You quickly avert your eyes, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. You take a few steps away, giving them space—giving Ominis the chance to breathe, giving Sebastian time to calm him down.
You only approach when Sebastian gives you a slight nod, signaling that it’s safe. Ominis is calm again, or calm enough, and this time, he's ready to enter the Scriptorium.
Wordlessly, he raises his wand and lights the three braziers in succession. As the flames flare to life, the wall groans open, stone folding inward to reveal a hidden passage. What lies beyond hardly resembles an office. The room is dark, damp, and impossibly cold. You turn to check the door behind you. It’s sealed shut.
Together, you deduce the purpose of the chamber—some kind of test, a trial meant to weed out the unworthy. A puzzle.
Ominis doesn’t contribute much, but you don’t blame him. He’s pale and rigid, his silence edged with dread. You take the lead, methodically working through the relief on the wall, its once-broken patterns slowly beginning to form under your hands. Piece by piece, you repair it, fully absorbed in the task.
But when you look up—ready to share your progress—neither of them is beside you.
Following the low murmur of voices, you find them at the far end of the room, tucked into a shadowed corner.
You freeze.
Sebastian has Ominis pinned, body pressed flush against him, murmuring something into his ear. His back shields Gaunt’s slighter frame entirely, but the intimacy is unmistakable. He isn’t helping. He’s rutting.
You inhale sharply through your nose. Trapped in a sealed, black tomb, and he’s preoccupied with that?
Disgusted, you turn away, focusing instead on the final piece of the relief. Whatever game Sebastian is playing, you want no part of it. Good Lord. What an animal. You don’t understand him at all.
Eventually, the last piece clicks into place, and the next door creaks open—leading you into a narrow corridor, barely wide enough to fit all three of you. The moment you cross the threshold, the stench hits you like a wall. Thick, rotting, unmistakable.
You gag.
Looking down, the source becomes clear. A pile of corpses—some still rotting, others long-since reduced to bones—lies heaped in the center of the floor. The dampness in the air has quickened their decay, turning flesh to sludge, puddled beneath brittle limbs. You step over them gingerly, trying to fight the rising nausea, and try the door.
“I presume it’s locked,” comes Sebastian’s voice behind you, dry and sharp. “Otherwise, why would there be a welcoming committee? Or do you think they just came here for a nap and forgot to leave?”
“What?” Ominis’s voice wavers from behind. “Sebastian, what’s going on?”
You scan the room quickly, pulse hammering in your ears. You can’t end up like them.
“What do we do?” you ask, trying not to sound as panicked as you feel.
Sebastian nods toward the far wall, where a word is scrawled in what can only be blood: Crucio.
You blink at it, then look at him. “Crucio? What does that mean?”
He half-smiles, wand already raised. There’s no time to react.
The pain is instant—like a thousand knives driving into you all at once. Your limbs seize, your body convulses, and then collapses. It’s sharp, numbing, then dull and throbbing, rolling through you in awful, lingering waves. The sounds blur, distant and suffocating—until suddenly, Sebastian’s voice cuts through.
“—ey! Hey!”
You blink your eyes open. He’s crouched beside you, shaking you by the shoulders.
When you finally move, he hauls you upright and props you roughly against the wall.
“Here,” he says, slapping your shoulder in encouragement with enough force to bring the pain rushing back. You wince.
“The door opened. Come through when you feel better.”
No apology. No explanation. Just like that, he’s gone.
You press a hand to your forehead—and freeze. It’s wet. Sticky. Your fingers come away coated in something slick and foul. Corpse remains. Smeared across your face. Your robes are soaked too—Sebastian struck you while you stood directly in the middle of them.
Bloody hell.
You swallow a gag and force yourself upright, legs shaking as you stumble toward the chamber.
· · ·
Rolls of mysterious parchment and countless books on dark magic from the scriptorium seem to have consumed Sebastian entirely—you barely see him anymore. In fact, you can hardly remember the last time you did. You sometimes wonder if anything he found in that crypt of a chamber helped Anne at all—if any of it was worth it.
Garreth Weasley—your partner in Potions—is a surprisingly perceptive character.
He catches you staring blankly into your cauldron and nudges you with an elbow. “What are you thinking about?”
You hesitate before answering. “Have you seen Sebastian lately?”
“Sebastian?” He raises an eyebrow. “What do you care?”
“I wanted to ask him about his twin—last time we talked, he seemed wrecked.”
“Anne? What about her?” Garreth makes a half-hearted attempt to brush his wild hair out of his face, only for it to fall right back into place.
“I just feel bad. I wish I could help her.”
Garreth gives you a look—somewhere between confusion and amusement. “Help her with what?”
You sigh, irritated by the endless back and forth. “Are you daft? She’s unwell. Cursed by a goblin.”
He blinks. “What are you on about? She’s at Ilvermorny. Transferred last year. My family helped sort it—Aunt Mathilda’s got connections in America.”
You stare at him. “What about the curse?”
“Oh, that? Wasn’t even that bad,” Garreth says with a shrug. “They took care of it straight away at St. Mungo’s, I reckon. Her uncle got spooked, though—shipped her off the first chance he got.”
Well, you think to yourself, shit.
OMG. This is insanely cute and pretty! 😍💙
😍💚
...they're up to something 🤍🖤
🥺😭
"you are the only one who can comfort me"
❤️🔥🥵
Ominis in the Prefects' pool. Another scene from my fic.
He can "stare" at me like that whenever he wants 🫠
LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!
Sebastian and Ominis dancing in the monlight 💙
Starting the requests with sebinis because this one spoke to me. I thought of a different story for it but ended up with something like one last dance before their graduation? Also argh, so annoyed with myself because the moment I decided to post this I started to hate it :'D Why does this happen every time, brain? Oh well. I'll just put it away and never look at it again xD Also, thank you so much for the lovely request!!
Oh my, this is so cute and beautiful! 🥺😍
Wanted to draw a third, a fourth and a fifth page for this but guess not :D Ran out of steam. But luckily you all have exquisite imagination!
Oh I would definitly say yes to him 😏
Also, can we talk for a moment how incredibly erotic Ominis looks while he leans back to savor the mess on him? 🥵🔥
Just a new page! 🥳
Sebastian made a mess and accidentally unlocked a new milestone for Ominis 👀
Ominis just asked the forbidden question.
Would you say 'yes' if you were in Sebastian’s position? 🤔
...I'm very normal about taking pics of Sebastian and Ominis (almost) holding hands, so I put all the ones I have in a little collection 💕
Pov: Sebastian walks in on Ominis changing and *snap* he realized "why am I nervous seeing that?" Fits the whole: Ominis falls first, and Sebastian falls harder because it hits him in the face like an angry person, lmao 🫶🏻
Here you go my love! @sebentinuminis I hope you like this! It was super sweet to write the italic "oh" moment haha
About ~330 words
~~~~~~
Sebastian only needed to grab his textbook. It was a simple mission really… Enter, Retrieve, Exit. Nothing extreme. His mind was already working out the quickest way to write twelve inches on the uses of dittany that he pushed open the dormitory door without a second thought.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of light.
No, not light…
Skin.
Smooth, ivory skin kissed with constellations.
Ominis stood before his wardrobe, shirt hung loose on his shoulders, fabric slipping down his arms like a waterfall. The slope of his collar bones, the subtle curve of his spine, the way the soft lamp light traced the lines of his body as if wishing to admire…
Sebastian forgot how to breathe. His pulse stuttered, tripped over his heart and then took off in a reckless sprint. An unbearable heat curled low in his chest, twisting and licking up his chest like the embers of a fire.
Something inside him cracked, fissured, shattered…
Oh…
Oh…
A supernova exploded in his mind, a meteor striking the earth so violently it sent his entire world spinning off its axis.
He had seen his best friend a thousand times, shared a room with him for the better part of six years. Laughed, fought, bled with him.
And yet… never like this.
Never with an aching, breathless awe. A dizzying, terrifying want that clawed at his ribs and made his knees weak.
Ominis turned slightly, tilting his head towards the open door. “Sebastian?”
Sebastian swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, the shape of words he dare not share out loud. Wiping sweaty palms along his trousers, all he could muster was a faint breath of acknowledgement.
“Are you alright?” Ominis quirked a brow.
No.
No, he was not alright.
Everything he knew was crumbling.
Crumbling to reveal that without a shred of doubt…
Sebastian Sallow was falling.
He was falling for Ominis Gaunt.
And there was no stopping it.
~~~~~~
I hope you like itttttt!!! I love youuu
What a rare but cute moment! I love to see them occasionally together in the castle! 😍💚
A Talk
How cute an funny is this?! 😍🤭
Haha oh god, I love it so much! ✨🤭
Muggle technology, boys!
Thanks for the template, I saw it and immediately thought I wanted to draw little boys⬇️
