#and before anyone asks I drew Jinx for my sibling

[arttsuka]

I saw the post no fanart but can I ask a question? What is your favorite fanart piece you have already drawn for someone that you look at and think, damn! I did good on that? Please?

Piece that I've drawn for someone? (Gonna exclude myself because technically all my pieces are for someone)

I really like these two

Actually let me link them. Here and here

[lins-fandom-hub]

Death!MC AU

Ohhhh boy.

Started by my friend @dat-silvers-girl who drew a gut-wrenching picture to kick off the challenge, I’m going to add on with an ultimatum that’s going to send my MC into a void. Sorry not sorry?

This will be closely based on the universe developed in Etched, Engraved, Everlasting.

---

We have your brother held hostage at the location of the final Cursed Vault. Meet us there now, or say goodbye to your beloved hope forever.

-R

The words of the last message sent by R echoed in Clara’s mind, ringing like the echoes of wet footsteps she took over the dry stone floor, her teeth set in a grit as she held her wand in front of her. She could hear her sister’s shoes squeak beside her on her right, with Merula mumbling death threats on her left. Not the best choice of company, but everyone else was already staying behind to fend off the Grindylows and merpeople in the lake. She could only hope that they’d hold out before they got back.

“...have you this time, I swear,” Merula was saying now, her voice rising with every word she spat.

“Save your breath for the Vault,” Clara commanded quietly. “We don’t have much time.”

“Yeah? I don’t have much patience.”

“Clara’s right. Save it,” little Em snapped softly, her wand light sputtering a bit before regaining power. “The last thing we need is another argument to tax us out before the final battle.”

“Wherever this final battle is supposed to take place,” Clara grumbled, pushing the wet hair out of her eyes. “This place is like a labyrinth. Jacob’s prison chamber could be anywhere.”

“You’re honestly such an idiot,” Merula snickered softly, shifting her grip so her wand laid in her palm. “Point Me.”

The wand spun round and round like the needle of a compass, and for a moment Clara stood, mesmerized, before it snapped into position--heading northwest.

“This way,” Merula said, leading the two sisters through another corridor lined with the same stone material like all the other corridors they’ve walked in thus far. It was a miracle that none of them started to feel the effects of pneumonia yet.

After what felt like another eternity, the corridor opened out into a wide, circular, dimly lit stone chamber. Clara’s eyes widened at the sight--the windows that were placed equidistantly on the walls, the golden column that she grew so used to seeing. This had to be the Vault Chamber--but where was Jacob?

“This is the Cursed Vault?” little Em whispered in awe. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. It’s the last one,” Clara confirmed with a nod. “But where’s--”

“He’s here,” Merula said, pointing over to a body slumping against the wall on their left. “Come on.”

In no time at all, the three of them crossed the room to Jacob’s side, and upon seeing his condition Clara couldn’t help but cringe. Jacob was badly injured from the waist down--his legs were locked in perpendicular angles, completely paralyzed, and there was a bleeding gash about the size of a rose on his left inner thigh. His arms were bound to his sides and behind his back with ropes, and his mouth was gagged with a handkerchief of silk.

“Oh no,” little Em murmured, taking out a knife and proceeding to cut the ropes. “Jacob, who did this to you?”

“Why, I did, of course.”

The three of them immediately turned to see the last person they ever wanted to see approach them--hair of hellfire, eyes gleaming with a frosty demeanour, her expression pointed as she glared at them.

“Rakepick,” Clara growled, rising to her feet with her wand raised. “You did this to my brother?!”

“Honestly, Miss Lin. You really are as stupid as we were lead to think,” Rakepick purred, withdrawing her wand from her cloak. “I should have known that you’d do anything to save your brother and his well-being without thinking twice about your...friends.”

The hairs on Clara’s neck stood up, a chill running down her spine as she heard the last word said so uncertainly. Surely she and Merula were still not friends...and it was best not to spill out her true relationship between herself and little Em.

“Whatever happened to Rowan was done on her own will,” Clara spat. “Now answer my question--did you do this to my brother?”

Rakepick only chuckled, the rich laugh stirring a volcano in the pit of Clara’s stomach. “I’m not surprised you wanted to know. Very well--yes, I did this, on R’s orders.”

“Just so you could lure me here?”

“Dear, it’s not just about luring you here,” Rakepick drawled. “Look at the column there--the treasures that lie in the final Cursed Vault. Wouldn’t it be something to take it and walk away without sparing another thought about your brother’s reputation, your friends’ trust? You could start a life of glory. You could join us.”

“Join you? All this time you were working with the enemy--”

“All so you could join our ranks.”

No way. There must have been some sort of lie embedded in those words. Clara glanced over at Merula, who blanched at the sight of her former mentor, completely at a loss for words. Little Em was too busy working on the restraints binding their brother to notice.

“Your brother was a failure--simply a tool for us to use, but disposable after. How eager he was to think he’d get anywhere with us!” Rakepick scoffed, shaking her head. “I thought the same about you too, at first...but your strength has proven rather intriguing to me, Miss Lin.”

“Jacob and I may have our differences but we both agree on one thing--having anything to do with R directly is a mistake.” She shook her head. “No. I refuse.”

“Surely you don’t want to know the real reason you’re in this position?” Rakepick asked. “The real reason you’re standing here, in the face of danger, with your brother so close and yet so far?”

“Save it, Rakepick. If I do want to hear the truth, I’d rather hear it from someone I trust,” Clara finally said, then shouted, “Stupefy!”

“Petrificus Totalus!” Rakepick called out as she ducked from the jinx, waving her wand at Clara. She managed to dodge the blow, and it accidentally hit Merula who fell to the ground like a cardboard doll.

“Oh no you don’t!” Clara roared. “Depulso!”

“Flagrante!”

“Immobulus!”

“Impedimenta!”

Spell after spell was fired in the vicinity, jets of every colour flying through the room at the duelists locked in a careful dance. Clara could feel the beads of sweat emerge through her pores now, sticking with the lake water that still clung her robes to her skin, and she clenched her fists in an effort not to feel the burn of leaking tears through her eyes. She was so focused on the enemy in front of her that she didn’t even hear Jacob stir, now released from the binds, until little Em shouted, “I got it!”

“And what is this?” Rakepick said, turning now to the young Hufflepuff student now rising to her feet--somehow, despite the sweat shining on her forehead and her hair now resembling a wild bird’s nest, her breathing was still well controlled. “Is this another Lin? My, my--all the eggs in the viper’s nest!”

“What does it matter if I am?” little Em cried. “Don’t I have as much right to care about Jacob as Clara does?”

Rakepick didn’t respond. She eyed the youngest Lin with her evil glare, a wicked grin spreading as she raised her wand again. “Just like your sister, huh? Brave enough to go after your brother--and stupid enough to fall into a trap. If one Lin isn’t enough, wait until R hears of the day I rid of all three!”

“No!” Jacob’s choked voice was not enough to catch anyone’s attention. “No!”

“Crucio!”

A shot of red snaked its way towards little Em, who suddenly let out an unearthly screech as it hit her square in the chest--she crumpled now to the ground, writhing in agony, hands clutching at her hair unaware of the flowers that began to fall. The curse was enough to break the petrification over Merula, and she shot up to a sitting position, eyes widening at the sight of little Em being put under the Cruciatus Curse.

“No...” she murmured, crawling over to Clara who was frozen to the spot, unable to register anything except for the screams that bounced around. “You evil little--”

“Uh, uh, uhhh. Watch your language, Miss Snyde--”

“SHUT UP!” Merula bellowed. “YOU FILTHY, EVIL, NASTY LITTLE--”

“STOP!” Jacob finally managed to shout, stumbling his way now to little Em who was biting her lip so hard in an attempt not to scream. 

“STAY PUT OR SHE DIES!”

“YOU WOULDN’T!”

But Rakepick was faster. Just as Clara took a step towards her siblings, Rakepick suddenly appeared at her side, trapping her wrist in a death grip and forcing her to look into her eyes--those cold, calculating cerulean eyes that Clara could never shake from her nightmares.

“Try me,” Rakepick murmured. “Join me, or watch just how much I can hurt your family.”

“You will never get in the way of our happy family again,” Clara hissed. “I would never allow it.”

“So be it.” 

Faster than a viper sinking her teeth into her prey, Rakepick drew out an elegant dagger from her belt and plunged it deep into Clara’s side.

“NO!”

Jacob’s eyes tore from his youngest sister to see his second sister curling into the blade that stuck at her hip--she collapsed now to the floor, but Rakepick wasn’t done. She took out the knife and in one swoosh of her cloak pinned Clara to the floor, where she then stabbed her hard into the chest.

Clara never had the chance to scream, but little Em did. As the last of the Cruciatus Curse wore off, she watched in horror as, in her waking moments, her sister succumbed to the fatal wounds in her chest, her breathing growing shallower until it died altogether.

“No.” Jacob murmured--with what little strength he could muster, he crawled over to his sister’s side, cradling his sister’s head in his lap.

Merula glanced at the dagger now, dripping with Clara’s blood to the floor, before glaring at Rakepick and brandishing her wand. “You bitch!” she finally screamed at her former mentor. “Avada Kedavra!”

Not even the satisfaction of ending Rakepick with the killing curse was enough to bring peace to Merula. Even with Rakepick’s death--the death she finally delivered--she knew there was a horrible price to pay, even if she wouldn’t admit she wanted to pay it at all. As insufferable as she was, at least Clara was there sometimes. She wasn’t all that bad. Now she would never get the chance to tell her that.

And as she looked back at Jacob and little Em, she knew that the pain she felt was nothing compared to how they felt. Tears burned at the brim as she went over to them, kneeling down beside the corpse of her peer.

“Go,” she murmured to it. “Go join your tree twin.”

---

After the final battle and the death of Clara Xing-Hui Lin, everyone was rendered shocked. The aftermath rang with an effect much worse than the Statue Curse could give. The curse was broken, but at the cost of their dearest friend’s life--their leader’s life.

Jacob and Em would never feel at peace again. Merula was admitted to an asylum and never returned for her seventh year.

The world turned upside down...and not for the better.

[pacman-tattoo]

finally [michael m. x canigula!reader]

( I just had the most embarrassing experience... So I thought it would be perfect if I requested it as a Michael x reader. So the reader has a crush on Michael and gives him hints. When they are alone. The reader tries to kisses his cheek and does it wrong and is completely embarrassed. Michael then tries to help her by kissing her on the lips. So just make it awkward at the failed kissing the cheek part and then super fluffy at the end. Sorry I just... I need to relive this in my musical world... )

(honestly still big mood like i feel u nonny)

also combined with:

( Oooooo what abt Christine and Reader are siblings and Christine tries to set up Michael and reader??? O: )

also whats this?? tris actually posts a thing??? it’s more likely than u think

warnings: none except its not the best but its not the worst thing i’ve ever written

      Christine wasn’t one to meddle in your business - especially when said business was your love life. It wasn’t her place to sit around and talk about cute people that she could secretly set you up with or anything of the sort. But when it became devastatingly obvious neither you or a certain headphones-wearing boy weren’t going to make the first move despite the obvious feelings that were fluttering between you, she decided to take matters into her own hands only slightly.

      And by slightly, she meant she was going to push you two together the best she could and pray that maybe one of you would actually realize there’s something there.

      So when the opportunity arose of you needing someone to tutor you in math, Christine told you she had just the person since she was too busy with rehearsal for the school’s musical. You were glad - you really needed a tutor and you really did trust Christine if she had someone immediately come to mind. After all, she had plenty of friends there would definitely be a couple who were good at precalculus-

      And Michael Mell was standing at your front door. When Christine said she had a friend, you didn’t expect it to be Michael of all people.

      He smiled at you and you swore you felt your cheeks become warm - he’s so cute, this isn’t fair. “Hey, [y/n]! Christine said you needed help with precal?”

      You nodded slowly, before mutely stepping out of the doorway for him to come in. He brushed past you as he did and you swore your heart skipped a beat. You shut the door before turning to Michael,  “I just... it’s kind of dumb and I don’t wanna fail the next test but I just... can’t wrap my head around any of this.”

     “No problem,” Michael said, sliding his backpack off of his shoulder, “Jeremy’s terrible at math, so I’m kinda used to tutoring him.”

      You smiled a little. “We can work in the dining room,” you said, motioning to the open doorway, “just lemme grab my notes ‘n stuff.”

      He didn’t have a chance to respond because you were upstairs and texting Christine the moment you were sure you were out of sight.

      [y/n]: when u said u had a tutor for me

      [y/n]: i didnt know u meant michael 

      christine: ? 

      [y/n]: omg christine please

      [y/n]: CHRISTINE PLEAS E

      christine: Can’t talk, at play rehearsal

      [y/n]: gdi

      You frowned as you swung into your room, grabbing your bag from the floor and tossing it onto your bed. You unzipped your bag quickly, searching for the blue binder that held all of your precal notes and worksheets - some of which you might have left undone - before returning downstairs to where Michael was now sitting, back facing you. Alright. You would be fine. It’s just Michael. Just Michael. Michael who you’ve had a crush on since freshman year and Michael who would smile at you in the hallway and told you that you looked cute and probably wasn’t even into you because he probably liked someone else who wasn’t awkward or-

      You pressed your lips together. Precal. Math. Grades. Right.

      Michael came by the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that - partially because you were caught up in the fact that he’d chew at the end of his pen when he was concentrating sometimes and you’d kind of start staring at his lips because wow he has pretty lips and he’s just really pretty, is that weird? Are boys allowed to be pretty - what kind of a question even is that? Definitely. Michael was fucking gorgeous. 

      And then he’d ask you a question. And you had to look down at the paper and admit you didn’t know or just kind of acknowledge that he asked something and one time he asked if you understood everything and you only said sure before he smiled and packed up his stuff and left and you didn’t know shit. So Christine would come into your room and ask how studying with Michael went with this little tone of voice as if maybe you two had been up to something else instead of studying - which, was silly because that’d never happen because Michael’s not into you - and then she saw you were stressed and confused over math. Fuck math. Math is terrible sometimes.

      So then the doorbell rang and you’d be there and you knew it was Michael because he had this habit of knocking anyway, steady in a one-two beat. He’d walk in, you’d offer him something - a snack, maybe a can of whatever soda you had tucked away in some corner of the fridge - and then the two of you would sit and work on math until one or both of you got tired. It was usually laid-back and the two of you would crack jokes and sometimes his hand would brush against your own and it was small but it still grabbed your attention. 

      Then you had a precal test on Wednesday. Your nerves were bundled and you shoved your feelings aside the next time you saw Michael. You tried to ignore the little glances he kept giving you, until finally his hand was on yours. You looked away from your notes, meeting his eyes for the first time that evening.

     “You alright?”

      You nodded. “Just... nervous. About the test.”

     “Don’t be. You’re smart,” he smiled a little.

     “I just... I don’t want to fail. Not after all this studying.”

     “You won’t.”

      You frowned, before speaking again, “I just... I dunno. I don’t wanna disappoint anybody.”

      Michael didn’t speak at first, only staring at you. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand, “well... you’d try, right?” You nodded slowly. “So... you wouldn’t disappoint me.” He quickly followed up his statement, “-or Christine, or Jeremy or anyone. We’d be proud.”

      You smiled at him. “Thanks, Michael. You’re sweet.”

      Your test went about as well as you’d expect it. You finished and immediately regretting it and already started to make up plans for how you’d live your life after becoming a failure. The usual with tests, even if you knew everything on it because that felt too easy? It couldn’t have been that easy, right?

      But you saw Michael in the hallway and he broke away from Jeremy and Christine to greet you.

      “How’d you do?”

      You shrugged. “I don’t wanna jinx it.”

      He smiled. “Alright. Hey, uh,” he glanced back to Christine and Jeremy, “you wanna grab lunch with us? Take your mind off the test.”

      You nodded. What a sweetheart.

      Wait.

      A sweet friend.

      That’s what you meant.

      Totally.

      Michael is your friend because Michael doesn’t have feelings for you even though you would definitely be fine if he had feelings for you but he doesn’t because he’s Michael.

      No matter what Christine implies.

      “Did you enjoy lunch with Michael?”

      You looked over to Christine, who had her eyes pinned to the road, and a smile peeking through the little mask she put on whenever she talked about Michael. “You say that like you and Jeremy weren’t there.”

      “We-ll...” She drew out the word.

      “Christine.”

      “You two talked a lot.”

      “Christine.”

      “I mean, Jeremy and I kiinda sat there.”

      “Michael doesn’t like me like that.”

      Christine only smiled. “Everyone’s coming over for movie night on Friday.”

      You looked out at the passing houses, leaning against the door. “Your turn?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Alright. I’ll lock myself in my room or something.”

      “You could join us, if you want,” she said, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, “no one would mind.”

      “They’re your friends,” you shrugged.

      “Michael’s your friend. And Jeremy.”

      You only shrugged again. “Maybe.”

      The sound of a paper being slapped onto your desk brought you out of a daydream you managed to escape to. You looked up, your teacher already desks away as you looked down to the sheet, slowly turning it over.

      An eighty-seven. You made an eighty-seven, holy fuck that was better than what you expected. You’d thank Michael. You had to thank him, especially considering he was sweet and reminded you that you did your best.

      So when you saw him after school, you took off running toward him, calling out his name as you approached him. You threw your arms around him, not giving him a chance to process what was happening as you roughly pressed your lips again his cheek - a little too hard and a little too fast and -fuck he probably hated you but you brushed it off as you bounced back.

      “Eighty-seven!” You cheered, grinning from ear to ear. he stared at you, before smiling and realizing just what you’d been talking about before he pulled you back into his arms.

      “Dude! That’s amazing!”

      You drew away after a few moments. “Sorry.” He stared at you. “The uh... cheek. Sorry, that probably hurt you or something, fuck, I just- I’m not really good at kissing boys - or people in general or-”

      He was laughing. It was small and short and soft but it was still a laugh

      “I’d like to see you do better, Michael,” you frowned, looking away.

      He chuckled this time. “I... could help you.”

      You looked up and you were positive your face was burning. “What?”

      His lips were quick and soft against your own, and before you knew it he was already steps away and apologizing because wow he kinda had been wanting to do that for a while-

      “It’s fine,” you said softly, “I... kinda wanted that, honestly-" You decided to go for it. Now or never. “I’ve... kinda liked you for a while.”

      “Really?” he said, voice breaking a little as he smiled, “I, uh... think you’re cute.”

      You only smiled in return, unsure of what to say other than

      "Finally. Thought you two would never admit it to each other.”

      “Jeremy? You knew?” Michael said, as his friend approached.

      “It was pretty obvious.”

      “What?”

      “... We all kind of knew?”

      “Oh my god.”