Hi there Matty!!🥰 It’s CC! I was wondering if I could draw a picture of Poppy inspired by one of your screenshots?💖 I’ll be sure to tag you when it’s done :3
because of course after the mermaid, this had to come as well
details under the cut!
aaaah long time no traditional !! this was quite relaxing 🤍 i wasn't as creative with the design here as i was with the siren bc I'm playing this lil mobile game called fairy village rn, and i rethought the design of this ↓ one fit a liiiiittle bit, and voila! moon fae Hanno ! 😆🤍
Ellie had known the upper echelons of society weren't all that clever—at least not in comparison to her—but she hadn't expected that opinion to be altered considerably in a matter of seconds.
Because the moment the group she'd been hiding from plummeted into the hole in the floor they'd revealed, without even the vaguest mention of a plan or promise of a reward, let alone a pat on the back acknowledging a job well done, Ellie was quite certain that the gentlefolk of the land were not only somewhat intellectually challenged, but that they were as dumb as moths choosing to fly into a flame only because the flame looked pretty.
And yes, Ellie did include Ale in that assessment. Unfortunately. For reasons that she did not want to mull over right now. (… Ahem.)
There was at least one advantage to their sudden disappearance: Ellie was now free to escape. This also meant she could resume her search for the crown jewels. The search which had been going so well so far. (… Ahem ahem.)
Ellie rose up from her crouch, swiped a few strands of hay off her shirt, put one foot in front of the other, and—
"Who are you?" an unfamiliar voice said. Ellie stopped dead in her tracks. She would have bolted out of the stables if it weren't for the fact that the stranger had already clasped Ellie by the shoulder and spun her around.
Ellie blinked at her accoster, her eyebrows raising as she took in a petite young woman standing below her, a bashful smile plastered on her pretty face.
She was quite short—shorter than Ellie, surprisingly enough—with chestnut-brown hair, and a dress that seemed far too fancy for the likes of her, but only because it was currently coated in copious amounts of mud, straw, and, to Ellie's great horror, feces, as if the strange woman had been mucking out the stables.
But that couldn't be right, could it? She had all the trappings of the rich, if you ignored the uncleanliness. And a gentlewoman, cleaning a horse's stall? Hah! What a silly notion.
"Pardon," the young woman tried again. "Are you hard of hearing?" Her tone was sweet, without even the slightest hint of frustration or annoyance.
This was all very odd.
When Ellie shook her head, still not quite sure what to say or do in this situation, not having ascertained whether the young woman should be considered a threat or not, the peculiar young woman resumed their conversation once more, saying, "Oh, lovely. May I ask who you are then?" She squinted, very slightly. "I don't believe I've seen you around the castle before."
"Ah, yes, yes," Ellie said, finally finding words. "Erm, my name is Ell… a! Ella! Yes, Ella, and I am the prince's… sister's... father's… erm, cousin… yes, yes, cousin… seven… times removed?"
Ellie cringed. So much for considering herself clever. She was going to have to make another run for it, wasn't she? A pity, really. Mostly because Ellie had the strangest feeling that under different circumstances she and Poppy would have gotten along quite nicely.
Needs must, though. Ellie was in the middle of considering her escape routes when the young lady in the dirty dress… smiled.
Huh?
"Oh, how fascinating!" she exclaimed. "A royal seven times removed! It's very nice to meet you, Ella." She held out her hand. "I'm Poppy."
Ellie stared at Poppy's hand for a heartbeat or two, choked down her bafflement, then shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you," she said, finishing her greeting with a clumsy half-bow half-curtsy.
"Are you planning on investigating the disturbance as well?" Poppy asked, bouncing over to the deep, dark chasm and peering down with an eager twinkle in her eyes.
"Erm, well. I was planning on going—"
"Because I thought it might be great fun!"
"That's all well and good, but I—"
Poppy clapped her hands. "Excellent!"
And before Ellie could get another word in edgewise, Poppy grabbed her by the hand, yanked her to the edge of the chasm, and leaped. It all happened so fast, and Poppy's grip was so tight, that all Ellie could do was plunge into the depths after her.
Ellie's great escape would, apparently, have to wait.
//
Princess Matty's shock must have dulled her ability to think, since she'd hardly processed Sir Solomon's words to Leander—who was not dead—before she and everyone else were set upon by a handful of traitorous knights that had presumably sworn their allegiance to Solomon the Betrayer, and not her royal father.
Whatever the reason for her current confinement, it was inconvenient, to say the least.
Whatever the reason for Sir Solomon clearly being up to no good, was also concerning, to put it kindly.
But could Princess Matty do anything about it? She tugged at the binds around her wrists and sighed. They hardly budged.
Matty had hoped she'd surprise herself with suddenly gaining supernatural strength, or, even better, miraculously developing magical abilities akin to the legendary Merlin. But alas, neither option presented itself.
Besides being uncomfortable, confinement was also inconvenient because Sir Solomon, in typical "gentleman of a certain age with a middling-to-high level of wealth" fashion, was now blathering on about some such nonsense.
Matty's ears reluctantly listened, until the some such nonsense became clear: Solomon's dastardly plan was to get rid of his nephew, Sebastian. And by "get rid of," he meant murder. Naturally.
Princess Matty didn't even bother hiding her deep eye roll. It wasn't as if Solomon was paying any attention to her. He was too busy monologuing.
"If it weren't for you meddling children my plan would have gone off without a hitch!" he shrieked. "Leander would be dead, Sebastian would have been arrested right away, and he'd likely even be burning on the pyre at this very moment. But no," Solomon whined, drawing out the vowel as he glard at each and every one of them before he continued with: "Knights Tori and Jaimsen had to snatch Sebastian while the rest of us were busy assessing Leander's state, and then my deeply irritating nephew had to slip away because you're all totally useless, and then the prince, of all people, had to hide him, and then"—he punctuated this bit with a jab of his meaty finger in the air—"you all, for some inconceivable reason, chose to hold a gathering in the stables of all places, and then, to top it all off—"
A rock flew past Matty's field of vision and smacked Solomon square in the forehead.
Solomon squawked with great indignation. He also stopped talking, so that was nice.
His men stiffened and raised their swords as they scanned for the threat. Meanwhile, Solomon raged, spewing out string after endless string of entirely unacceptable curse words.
Matty frowned, but not for long. Her binds loosened and plunked to the floor.
"Thank you," Matty whispered in reply, her eyes widening. Thinking it prudent for secrecy's sake, she kept her arms behind her back as she scanned the situation from the corners of her vision. Killian winked at her from across the room, Jaimsen smiled and nodded, and Tori didn't pay attention to Matty at all because she was too busy staring at Poppy with heart eyes. Matty assumed that meant she, too, was free.
To Matty's great confusion, Poppy mumbled, "My goodness, Ella works fast," as she untied Jo, then Cal, then Val, and so on.
Since they were bound to be found out eventually, they all—Leander included—exchanged knowing glances, shouted out, "Attack!" and began a totally unplanned, but very determined assault.
Their timing was so perfect that the last thing Matty thought before hiking up her skirts once more and kicking one of Solomon's cronies in the crotch was that they really should have considered violence sooner.
//
Find evidence. Save Sebastian.
Prince Damien had only just barreled his way through the castle's giant double doors when his father's steward, Gladwin, spotted him.
And Gladwin, having been selected as the unfortunate victim of Prince Damien and Sebastian's rainy day pranks over the years, had always held a grudge when it came to Damien. Which was why Damien was not at all surprised when Gladwin alerted the entire castle to his presence with a gleeful grin and a cheerful shout.
Damien groaned, bemoaning his fate, as he was piled on by the three closest servants in the vicinity, one of which was at least twice his size, and Damien was no waifish Maypole. He struggled as he was bound and dragged to his father's quarters, thrown inside, the door locked behind him.
Even though his hands were bound behind his back, Damien still managed to pound on the door, flinging his broad shoulder against the hard oak, hollering at the top of his lungs. He started with pleas (no luck), quickly moved on to cursing, getting more creative with each passing minute (also, nothing), then finally settled on bellowing threats to anyone who may have passed through the hall, if anyone passed through at all. (Either no one passed through, or they were so terrified by the possibility of death by the hands of a usually quite amenable prince that they decided to stay quiet. That was probably wise.)
The situation was dire.
Sebastian, caught and helpless, expecting Damien to save him. Somehow.
Damien, trapped in his father's study, awaiting some unforeseen punishment.
But whatever Damien's punishment may be, it would never be fatal. Not like Sebastian's.
"Sebastian…" Damien murmured uselessly, his breath catching on the last syllable.
He slumped to the ground and hung his head, hot tears rushing down his cheeks. Tears Damien couldn't even wipe away since his hands were still bound.
Dammit!
If only Damien could find a way to unlock the doors. All he needed to do was find evidence, and he didn't technically need his hands free for that.
Damien straightened up, abrupt returning to lucidity. A key! There had to be a key somewhere. His father wouldn't risk the chance of getting locked inside his own bedroom without a contingency plan.
A key hidden in a drawer, perhaps? Or—
Creak.
Damien froze in place, his back still to the door.
"Prince Damien?" a female voice said quietly from behind him, from the direction of the door!
Damien swiveled around.
An unkempt and unfamiliar young woman greeted him. She wore all black, and oddly enough, trousers. The toe of her dusty boot held the door open a sliver.
"Who are you?" Damien managed to eke out.
She threw her hands up in the air. "Why is everyone so concerned with who everyone is? It doesn't matter! I opened the door for you. You're free now, and isn't time of the essence?"
Damien gawked. He opened his mouth, then closed it. The strange young woman did have a point.
"Anyway," she said, "before you run off and save your curly-haired, freckle-faced lover-boy, I have something you might want to hear. It should help loads, or so your sister said."
"My curly-haired, freckle-faced lover-boy?" Damien stammered out, affronted to the extreme, until his brain caught up with his heart. "Wait one moment. My sister? You know my sister?"
"I wouldn't say I know her well, but we have been acquainted. The more important part is that I was there when she needed a messenger, and I offered, so she asked for my help. She gave me a very brief summary, by the way. Something about a murder most foul and your lover perhaps doing the murdering, but that it wasn't technically murder because he didn't mean to kill the victim, blah blah blah, that you need evidence to save him, something something something. Does that sound about right?"
Damien nodded, still processing how things had gone so awry that his sister had to resort to asking a complete and total stranger for help.
She rubbed her forehead. Damien coughed. She smacked her lips.
"And?" Damien pressed. "What was my sister's message?" He somehow managed to refrain from snapping Get on with it already. He certainly thought it though.
"Well, um, before I tell you—"
"You want something from me."
"How did you know?"
"I mean…" Damien inspected her up and down, his eyes homing in on her general untidiness. He shrugged. No further words were needed.
"That's fair," she said. "Very fair." She raised a brow. "You should know that my request is not a small one."
"Well," Damien said, drawing out the word. "Hard to say no under the circumstances, really. " It wasn't meant to be a joke, but she laughed nevertheless.
She smacked her lips one last time, then said, "Alright. I want the location of the crown jewels."
It was now Damien's turn to laugh. "That's all?"
"Yes?" she said, frowning. "I'm asking you for the location because I'm planning on stealing them, you know. You do understand that, right?"
Damien's laughter bloomed into a full-bodied guffaw. When he finally managed to control it and could breathe once more, he said, "I couldn't care less about the crown jewels. I'll happily tell you where they are."
She gaped. "You will?"
He nodded. "The crown jewels are hidden in a crate in the royal stables abutting some bales of hay."
She slapped her palm to her forehead. "Right. Of course they are."
"There's a lock," he continued, "but I have a feeling you can get around that."
She nodded. Damien waited for her to relay Matty's message. He waited some more.
"Oh!" she finally exclaimed. "Right! The message! Matty asked me to tell you that Leander's alive."
Damien chuckled. "Pardon?"
She was obviously joking. Although...
"Leander's alive and well. Long story, apparently, but the bottom line is that your sister had him and the plan was for Leander to go to your father and sort everything out, but then Solomon escaped."
Damien blinked. "Wait. Hold on. Leander's alive? And Solomon… escaped? Who confined him and why? And what does Solomon have to do with this mess?"
"I really don't know. Sorry about that. But the good news is that there were a bunch of witnesses, myself included. Leander has red hair, yes? Tall, lanky, loads of freckles?"
Damien couldn't believe his ears. That was definitely Leander.
The strange young woman wasn't finished. "The bad news is that Solomon's hell-bent on killing your lover."
"What?" Damien must have misheard. It simply could not be. "But Sebastian's his nephew."
"Oh? Huh. Well, that certainly makes things more interesting."
"But if Leander's alive and willing to speak with my father, how does Solomon escaping change the circumstances?"
"Ah, right. Erm, yeah. The other bad news is that Leander ran off after him."
Damien groaned. "Why am I not surprised? The idiot!"
"Can't say I disagree with you there."
Damien leaped forward, toward the door. "Is that all?"
She nodded.
"You don't suppose you can also untie me?"
She didn't verbally reply, but before Damien knew it, the thick rope holding pinioning his arms dropped to his feet. He flexed his aching hands.
"Am I free to go?" he said, eyeing the door, still wedged open by the toe of her boot. "Or is there something else you want?"
She stared blankly at him. "Your hands are free."
"And?"
"You could easily overpower me. I mean, if you wanted to, I guess."
"Why would I do that?"
"You know what?" she said through a laugh. "Never mind. And since you asked, yes. There is something else that I want." She glanced down at her boots, then back up. "I would also like some gold. You know, for the road."
Damien shrugged, riffled through his trouser pockets and drew out a handful of Galleons. "Here you go," he said, tossing them at her feet. "Don't spend it all at once."
Then, because Prince Damien would have hated himself if he didn't, he whispered his gratitude before slipping out the door.
He didn't glance back.
It wasn't until Damien had tiptoed halfway down the stairs when it crossed his mind that he hadn't asked the strange young woman how she'd unlocked the door.
Oh well. It was hardly important now.
//
Ellie the Thief stared at the Galleons lying at her feet. She laughed. The Galleons alone were more coin than she'd ever had in her possession. And soon, she'd also have the crown jewels.
What an incredible stroke of luck!
Who would have thought that this whole time, after all the hassles she'd endured—the running and the hiding; the kissing (that part was nice though) and the freeing of gentlemen and gentlewomen from captivity; the knocking the steward over the head with a bizarre monkey statue in order to steal the keys needed to free the prince; the "haggling" with the aforementioned prince; you know, just to name a few—that all Ellie needed to do to get her hands on the crown jewels was to politely ask Prince Damien for them?
Certainly not Ellie.
But she was glad she gave it a try. Maybe she could even get used to asking more for things in the future.
Because sometimes it paid off handsomely, in more ways than one.
(… Ahem, ahem, ahem.)
[ Read chapter eleven ➡️ ]
MCs mentioned: @accio-bagel's Ellie Crawford, @girl-named-matty's Matty Ambrose, Silas Evander, and Callan Gaunt, @savingsallow's Alejandro Salvatori and Valentine Black, @ravenwind-75's Johanna Newman, @espressoristretto-patronum's Tori Lewis, and @leaping-toadstool-caps's Jaimsen Hisui. <3
After seeing @wizardrian’s art of Oliver Wood, and the fact that they take comms, I knew I HAD to comm them to do Glasswood. It wasn’t a want. It was a need.
They were SUPER quick and ended up finishing the comm yesterday, but I’m posting it today because it’s Oliver and Radiant’s anniversary!
I’m completely obsessed with EVERYTHING about this ugh. They look so in love with each other I can’t.
Highly recommend comming them if you can on VGen and giving them a follow if you haven’t already!
Also stay turned for the one-shot I’m writing for their anniversary! I will be publishing it before I go into work on here and possibly Ao3 if I have the time to transfer it.
Duncan: Words can't describe how ugly you are.
Ominis: Words can't describe how beautiful you are.
Duncan: Aww, thanks.
Ominis: But numbers can.
Ominis: 1/10.
@amethystandemma these two gremlins have my heart and soul forever in their clutch, thank you ml for creating our queen Radiant and this amazing ship that we so adore 👹🤍
(excuse my terrible handwriting 😩 thankfully you dont have to look at it if you dont want to- no text version under the cut)
my amazing reference was that one glasswood coom that is your wonderful header, i hope i did them justice 🙏🏻
Maeve had never understood why Thestrals were so frightening to some.
Perhaps it was their meaning.
How only those who seen and accepted death ever saw them. It was much easier to be frightened of what could not be seen, after all.
Her brother had always told her beauty was often found in strange places, if only someone thought to look. A broken toy, well-loved until its end. A crack in a teacup, stains upon stains through use. Moss over a cottage that once was someone's home.
and she knew right then, it was like he'd sent the creatures directly to her.
"What a good day for a swim!. Let's get some tan, and enjoy a refreshing drink with some frozen fruit or yogurt!"
Said Anne the happiest of the group. She finally can feel freedom a little, and not being stuck sick in Feldcroft with her uncle.
CLOSE UP VERSION ⤵️⤵️⤵️
FINALLY! I've been keeping this WIP for soo long, I'm afraid to throw it into my Art Dump files. I'm glad finally finish it!😭
I can only draw four of the Main girls I like, apologies for that🙏
And I don't know why I made that logo there in the corner, haha. It's too good to be unused.
Oh! This is my Natsai and Poppy debut, I should draw them two more often in the future, but let's just see, hehe. I'm planning to draw the boys too, but I don't know. What do you think?🤔💭
