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#the prince × the pauper

cj-writes-things · 4 months

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A Common Tale with a Twist

Part 2/2

(part 1 here)

The prince and the outcast girl had been on the run for weeks now, but the royal search party persisted. Every so often they would hear hoofsteps or hounds nearing their campsites, and they would have to relocate even further from the castle grounds. It was quite the stress-inducing ordeal, but both couldn't help but find it invigorating as well. They were experiencing the thrill of the hunt, albeit from the perspective of the prey; at least it kept things exciting!

While the runaway heir was enjoying his adventures, however, an old friend of his was left quite conflicted.

He had been serving in the royal guard for only a short time after having graduated alongside the prince, whom he had always considered a comrade. He knew of his friend's rebellious ways, but he had never expected this! To dash away from the palace and all its luxury- in the middle of one's own wedding, no less- to live a life outside the law in the untamed forest? It was preposterous, unheard of!

The young guard was dumbfounded as he set out on his mission to reclaim the prince, but he pursued the trail earnestly, not wanting to disappoint his superiors.

As he rode through the sparse woods on the back of an uneasy steed, his mind wandered from his task to memories of his quarry.

He thought about how bold the young heir had always been, how he had never been partial to the old ways of the royals. He recalled all the forced smiles given to guests at gatherings, all the stories whispered in the night of what the outside world was like.

He knew if he failed this mission, chances were he would never see his old friend again, but something told him the boy didn't want to be found.

The queen had informed the royal guards that her son must have been kidnapped, likely refusing to admit to herself that he had honestly wanted to leave for good. The young guard didn't buy it. He grit his teeth in determination, kicking his horse into a greater speed. He wasn't sure what he would do if he found the prince, but he did know, somehow, that he had to be the one to reach him first.

Eventually his steed slowed its pace, growing tense and even more alert. Scanning the shadowy forest floor, the young guard dismounted and searched for whatever had spooked his horse.

His gaze eagerly followed the footprints he found in the dirt until he found himself looking right into the eyes of his prey.

The prince was crouched beneath a bush, holding by the hand a young, rather rough-looking girl. There was a wild look to him now, as though the woods had begun claiming him as one of their own, and the expression in his eyes seemed so much more genuine than it had in the past. It held fear, excitement, surprise- but it also spoke of hope, relief.

Is he glad it was me who found him? Does he think, perhaps… that I'll let him go?

The young guard had one hand on the ram's horn he was supposed to use to call upon the other riders were he to be successful in his search, but he never drew it to his mouth. He was too focused on the prince's, for it was now curling into a reassuring and defiant smile directed at the girl beside him.

Once again, the gesture didn't appear forced as it always had; there was something so true in that smile as it conveyed its message, which was a promise of protection.

The unruly, rebellious spark that had always been buried in those eyes was much brighter now that it wasn't in a cage.

I take it you've found what you were looking for, old friend.

The young guard knew he couldn't take this away from his former classmate, who had always so longed for freedom.

When the prince focused his attention back on him, he smiled softly and turned away with a simple nod, tossing the words "goodbye, your highness" over his shoulder as he swung himself back up into the saddle.

"Thank you," the prince whispered, but the guard merely glanced back at them with a grin as he rode back the way he had come to tell the rest of the search party it was time to declare the missing heir gone for good.

The young couple on the run would always hold grateful memories of that young man as they forged new adventures for themselves in uncharted lands and lived happily ever after far from the golden bars of the high society prison.

~the end~

#the prince × the pauper #miscellaneous short stories #my writing #writers on tumblr #short story #common tale with a twist #interpret this as you will #but i will say #if you think the guard was just a little bit in love with the prince #i wont correct you #not fandom

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han-solo-cant-dance · 1 year

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Making you guys pick the movies I see most talked about on here. I just want to know what everyone else likes the most. I only just realized they're all animated 🤷‍♀️

#shrek 2 #Shrek #megamind #lorax #the lorax #spirit horse #spirit stallion of the cimarron #studio ghibli #spirited away #howls moving castle #prince of egypt #emperors new groove #barbie princess and the pauper #barbie #poll #polls #movie poll #fun poll

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tennessoui · 4 months

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it's been so long since i did a sith obi-wan au so like - how about an au where the sith are almost as established as the jedi (a temple, an order, followers numbering in the hundreds/thousands) but things are a bit more diplomatic in the galaxy (it's definitely tense but not all out war just yet)

so both the sith and jedi orders are alerted to a new rising power in the outer rim.....on tatooine of all places. a slave rebellion, led by shmi skywalker, has toppled the hutts. it's said that this new leader, queen of tatooine, has the Force's favor....but more importantly than that, shmi skywalker is a new galactic player, with a lot of money and a lot of support.....and a son of marriageable age.

cue both the jedi and the sith sending a delegation to tatooine - ostensibly to nurture galactic relations between their orders and the new power, but also to lowkey seduce shmi skywalker's son into marriage/a relationship because everyone knows that a parent's heart follows their children's happiness.

sith!obi-wan aka darth solence is selected to lead the sith seduction attempt. he's pretty confident - after all, he's led hundreds of seduction missions at this point, and he'd suffer a thousand different humiliations for the sake of the order of the sith who took him in after the jedi sent him to the agricorps.

the only problem is that he arrives on tatooine and shmi skywalker's son, anakin, is the most bland, boring, two-dimensional boy to ever breathe. he's completely uninterested in politics, in history, in the Force---he'd rather talk about pod-racing and--and Coruscanti daytime holo shows than anything of actual interest!

good thing the prince's manservant, kitster, is almost always hanging around. he's wrong about many things, obi-wan finds, but he's passionate. passionate and beautiful. oh, he loves pod-racing just as much as the prince, but he's fascinated by the Force and ready to tear obi-wan's eyes out over a passing negative observation on a droid. and did obi-wan mention that he's beautiful? with his golden curls and sky blue eyes and fierce scowl and broad shoulders and prominent eyebrows and even more prominent lips? the sith, as a general rule, appreciate passion, anger. beauty. obi-wan adores them as well.

but kitster the man servant isn't the person obi-wan has been flown to tatooine to seduce--he's duty-bound to seduce prince anakin. even if being around him feels like pulling his teeth out with rusty pliers.

if only obi-wan knew that shmi skywalker is more suspicious about the galaxy than she lets on. more protective of her son, too. if only he knew that her son, anakin, had a best friend growing up named kitster, who owed them both just enough life-debts to convince him to trade places with shmi's son for the length of the delegations' visit.

it's an easy sell after all -- who doesn't want to be a prince for a few weeks, no harm done?

#kit's silly lil aus #obikin #one day darth solence will catch on #its the only thing i want someone to like enough to use in their fic #come on!! darth sidious...insidious....darth vader....invader....darth solence...insolence...it fits bitchy obi-wan so well #anyway it was an embarrassing few minutes i spent rummaging through my brain trying to find the masculine word for handmaiden #i was like kit come on you read so many fucking merthur fanfictions in 2012 #i remembered its manservant #but anyway to get to the actual tags for this au #she's so dramatic omg i love her (the au)#it's basically some sort of prince and the pauper situation??#yeah i did originally type princess and the pauper because my exposure to that story was the barbie computer game no regrets #only overshare

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catherinesboleyn · 3 months

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Jane Asher as Lady Jane Grey in The Prince and the Pauper (1962)

Jane Asher as Jane Seymour in Henry VIII and His Six Wives (1972)

#jane asher #lady jane grey #jane seymour #the prince and the pauper #henry viii and his six wives #gif #gifset #perioddramaedit #16th century

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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The Prince & The Pauper Prefect

Gender Neutral Reader x Prince Stefan (Twst OC) Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: 'Dear Ramshackle Prefect, you are cordially invited to tour the Royal Sword Academy at your leisure. We hope our libraries may have something of use to aid in your journey home. And if perhaps you find our facilities to your taste, we would be more than happy to extend you a more permanent invitation.’ Clearly, nothing about this could go wrong at all.

A/N: A commission for the very lovely @thefiasco-onyourblock. I'm having so much fun with all y'alls ideas, and this is one of the few that was asked to be public, so I'm happy you all get to see it! It was a lot of fun to dive back into this himbo~

You’d just stumbled your way back onto Ramshackle’s sagging porch after your second third fourth foray into this wonderful new world of Near-Death Experiences when the letter arrived. It popped into existence in a pleasant burst of bubbles and sparks—a scroll of soft, cream, paper stamped with a shimmering wax seal that looked like it could have been melted down out of literal gold. You waved a hand under it, over it, all around the thing in grand loop-de-loop. The letter just kept hovering in place, occasionally spitting out another bout of multicolored sparkles.

“Hello?” you tried, cautious, and the thing crinkled at the corners. Like it was trying to wave back at you.

You glared up at the grey sky for a moment, daring whatever higher power existed in this stupid world to try fucking with you yet again, before reaching out to grab the ridiculous, magic, note.

It unrolled at your touch, like a cat stretching when you scratched along its spine. And instead of some horrible prank or wayward contract, you were greeted with an opportunity.

“POACHERS!” Crowley howled.

You sighed and rested your chin in your palm. “So can I go?”

“INTERLOPERS!” he forged onwards, waving the letter back and forth like a parent raging over a bad report card. “Who do they think they are?! Trying to swipe my most precious intern—student! My most precious and beloved of students!—out from under my nose?! As if I wouldn’t be able to see through something so—so—ACK!”

“I mean,” you grumbled miserably under your breath, “it is a pretty long nose. Could hide a lot under there.”

He turned on you with a gasp, like you’d just insulted his mother. Or… whatever the Headmaster’s no doubt vaguely evil and eldritch equivalent would be.

“It’s a mask! A mask!”

He crumpled the letter petulantly between his clawed fingers and went to hurl it to the ground, but the paper smoothed itself out with another one of those magical ‘pops!’ and floated up on an artificial breeze to land neatly in your lap. Crowley sneered at the thing like he was planning to light it on fire, and honestly, with how strange and ethereal this little letter was, you sort of wanted to see him try.

“I think it’s a perfectly reasonable opportunity,” Professor Trein shrugged, unbothered by his superior’s usual nonsense.

“It’s not as if the Royal Sword Academy is known for their treachery,” Professor Crewel added, sounding a bit like the acknowledgement had to be yanked out of his mouth with a pair of pliers. He glanced your way for a moment with those narrowed, steely, eyes of his before turning that glare back on the old crow. “And in comparison, I don’t think any of us can truthfully claim that Night Raven has provided a particularly safe learning environment for the Prefect.”

Crowley sniffed, indignant. “A sprinkling of danger is all part of the educational experience!”

Trein sighed and Crewel pinched at his brow like he was fighting the start of a migraine.

“They’re just offering to let me look through their library archives for more information on how I could find a way home,” you tried, and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Which would mean less work for you, you know.”

For a moment you could see the calculations whirling behind those glowing, yellow, eyes—the promise of entirely unearned vacation time and accolades for tasks he’d had absolutely bupkis to do with. But then the sharp line of his mouth hardened in determination and he turned away from you with a huff.

“We’ll discuss this betrayal of yours later—when my poor, old, heart has had some time to stitch itself back together!” he harumphed and you sighed miserably. Then he snapped his fingers with a little ‘ah!’ and turned on you with a perfectly sunny smile. “And of course there’s the VDC to plan for! Do get on that, my favorite, little, busy bee!”

Afterwards you stood in the little alcove outside of Crowley’s office, the golden letter clutched tightly in your fists. The soft edges of the scroll lifted to curl around your knuckles, like a gentle reassurance. Before you could work yourself up into getting too upset about the unfairness of it all, Professor Crewel placed a hand on your shoulder with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll drop you off Monday morning.”

You fought the tremble that was doing its best to turn your mouth into a wobbling mess, and turned to launch yourself into his furs with a crushing hug. The alchemist patted your back with a great deal of aggrieved grumbling, but he didn’t bother to push you away either, so he probably didn’t mind you creasing his coat as much as he said he did.

Your assurance that this was just a jaunt through the RSA’s library had been… mostly a fib. Or at least, deceptive in the same way that the sweeping, cursive, missive was also sort of sneaky. You’d dealt with enough genuine schemers at this point to recognize subtle promises woven into the words of the well-meaning.

‘And if perhaps you find our facilities to your taste, we would be more than happy to extend you a more permanent invitation.’

You sighed and tucked the letter into your bag. It felt a bit wrong to be ducking away from your friends and your hovel of a home like a thief absconding in the night. But this was just… You were just looking. Spending a day away from the cloying, tarry, taste of pooling blot, and the endless runaround of all your little duties, and Crowley was not nearly the same as flipping your new friends the bird and fucking off into the sunset.

You repeated this to yourself ad nauseum as you pulled on your cleanest uniform, and then again throughout the entirety of the drive down the coast, and then more when Crewel waved you out of his car with a pointed look, leaving you at the RSA’s doorstep with a little shoo shoo gesture to get you moving.

Everything was so white. And not the gentle sort of lightness that came with nice things like fluffy sheep or foam off rolling ocean waves. It was sterile—so sharply bright in the morning light that it was nearly blue. The brick path beneath your feet was white, the guardrails lining the walkways were white, the walls of the looming castle, the impressive archways, the fluttering flags bearing the school’s regal coat of arms—all bone-bleached beneath the sun and shimmering like the architecture itself had literally been polished to a gleam. The only variation to be seen amidst the sea of monochromatic brilliance was the occasional pop of a cerulean spire—like some sort of awful party hat to top off the whole mess of it.

Say what you might about Night Raven’s gothic chic and whole ‘I mean, of course the cobwebs in the halls are Intentional’ aesthetic, but at least walking around the drab buildings there didn’t leave you feeling like someone had just set off a camera flash in your face. You felt like you were dirtying the roads by just existing near them. How did anything ever get done here without everyone having to constantly stop just to sweep up their footprints behind them?!

But such was the way of this dumb world apparently. Everything had to operate in extremes—nothing could just be normal. Real. It was all some fairytale recreation, varying only in if it fell hard on one side of the spectrum or the other.

You pulled out the letter with a sigh, and began roving over the contents yet again to see where exactly you were supposed to be headed. This whole fieldtrip turning into a miserable confirmation of your unintended loyalty to Night Raven or otherwise, at least you might be able to get some information out of these promised libraries.

You managed to cross a sweeping stone bridge, descend three separate flights of stairs, and follow nearly half a dozen signs with little, circled, stars on them before realizing you were probably only making things worse for yourself. You were still on one of those glistening, pearlescent, pathways, but now there were trees everywhere. It was a far cry from the twisting, black, forests smattered throughout Night Raven’s estate. Light filtered down pleasantly through the lush trees and the air was so nicely scented with flowers and pine that it was almost like someone had gone through with a bottle of Perfume de Forest and personally spritzed each and every plant. Which—ugh. Even the birds seemed to singing in tempo to some pre-orchestrated song. It was trippy.

But speaking of trippy—

You were so busy glaring suspiciously at a tree with a literal smiley face twisted into its bark that you didn’t notice the drop-off until it was too late. To be fair, it was still all very lovely—an overhang leading to a crystalline lake that bubbled gently under the roar of nearby waterfall. No jagged rocks at the bottom or anything. You probably wouldn’t even have to tumble all the way into the water, just into the little ditch about ten feet down. But of course, all that didn’t stop you from ‘eeping’ inelegantly in a panic as you stepped over the edge and started to fall.

And then you jerked back with a wheeze when something caught you around the collar of your uniform and tugged. You flailed wildly as you were hauled back up and into the air, and something behind you made a high-pitched, nervous, whinnying noise.

“Woah, woah, woah! Easy! Easy! You’re going to send all three of us over, you big baby!”

The huffing, angry, noises just got worse and you were dropped unceremoniously back on the pathway you’d wandered off from just in time to see a pair of hooves come crashing down precariously close to where you’d been dumped. You scurried back in a hurry, because you’d survived too much nonsense at this point to get taken out from something as mundane as a kick to the head.

The horse eventually got its singular braincell working well enough to realize it had to back away from the ledge, and you were finally able to look upon your savior without being too worried about taking a hoof to the face.

He was clearly an RSA student, what with the garishly bleached uniform and impeccably put together everything. There was a crimson cloak tossed over one of his shoulders though, which did more to break the monotony of colorless brightness than any other architecture in the entire campus, so well done him you supposed. There was a sort of effortless attractiveness to everyone in this stupid world, but your new acquaintance in particular seemed to fall hard into that ‘windswept, accidental model’ sort of look, with loose brown hair falling in a neat fringe over his forehead, and wide, warm, hazel eyes. He looked a bit like the sort of person that a school might slather on all their recruitment posters to be like ‘see! We have jocks that know how to shower and brush their hair! Look how put together we are!’

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at you with a canted head—curious. “You don’t look a student here.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, making your way to your feet with a sore grumble. “I have an invitation. I’m just trying to find the Headmaster’s Office,” you said, holding out the letter like a hall pass.

“Oh!” He chirped, brightening. “I can show you the way,” He offered. “Not that I’m in trouble enough to know the way there by heart or anything, but I guess just enough that there isn’t too much of a chance that I’ll get the both of us lost,” he winked and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. Normally this sort of overly familiar banter meant you were about to get dragged into all sorts of Shenanigans.

Before you could decide whether to take the chance or politely decline, his stupid, too big, horse reared its head back with a frustrated huff. Mister Red Cloak took the mini-tantrum in stride, despite the fact that the thing had nearly just clocked him right in the face with a head that looked as solid as a boulder.

“Oh, come now,” he sighed, patting the beast’s neck. “We can finish the course later. Don’t be a baby.”

The horse made some sort of unpleasant shrieking noise like some nightmare creature from just beyond the gates of Hell that had you flinching back to avoid being Murdered, but its rider simply rolled his eyes and tugged sharply at the reins.

“What do you think, huh? Just this once?” he asked, leaning forward over the withers to talk to the raging horse in its face. Like a lunatic. “For an extra bucket of oats? And maybe, just a few—” cue an absolutely horrendous eyebrow waggle, “carrots?”

And then the horse tossed its head back with a whinny that should absolutely not have sounded anything like a ‘hell yeah! Whatever you say, dude!’ before turning and prancing around you in tight, bouncy, circles. You scrunched in on yourself, because the thing was still probably a thousand pounds of muscle and flailing limbs. Even if it wasn’t actively huffing at you anymore, now it was just getting closer faster.

“You really don’t have to,” you tried. “Just point me in the right direction and I can find my own way.”

“Nonsense!” he chirped, dropping down from the saddle to land before you in the grass with a heavy thud. He brushed at his trousers, as if he wasn’t expecting his hands to come back completely clean. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on him. “What sort of savior would I be if I let you get lost in the wild and wonderful woods of this grand institution?”

“I can see the castle,” you griped, pointing to the blue peaks over the trees.

“Last I checked, you can see it from the entrance too,” he smiled and gestured to the forested path around you, chuffing a bit like he was laughing under his breath. “Must’ve been quite a turnaround, to wind up here anyways.”

Instantly you felt your hackles rising and a familiar, prickly, heat work its way up into your cheeks.

“Thank you, for your concern,” you grit out and swiveled on your heel. “But I guess even I should be able to find my way eventually.”

The pleasantly amused expression on the brunette’s face instantly fell and he darted back in front of you with a grimace.

“Sorry—that was. Sorry. I guess I put my foot in my mouth,” he rushed out. A gloved hand came up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You snorted and glared off into the trees.

“Now you really have to let me show you the way,” he laughed, stilted and bordering on too polite. “For making an ass out of myself like that. It’s the least I can do.”

You glared at him sourly for a moment before sighing and glancing back at the looming Andalusian still prancing along the tree line. “Will… that be coming with us?”

“Helios?” he asked, like you had any concept of what a ‘Helios’ was supposed to be. Probably the horse. “Oh, no, no, no,” he said, waving you off. “He can find his way back to the stables on his own. Right, boy?”

The horse made another one of those high-pitched, blustery, noises and you forcefully reminded yourself that you had faced inky goop monsters that were personifications of your classmates’ literal demons, and also kidnapping plots involving another of said classmates diving into your brain to rewire it like you were his own personal puppet. And in comparison to all those trials, Sentient Animals should not be creepy.

“Fine,” you huffed. “It’s fine. Just—let’s just get going.”

“Right!” he beamed, instantly bouncing back to his earlier enthusiasm. “I’m Stefan, by the way.”

You offered your own name in return, if only to be polite, and he smiled like the fact that you’d managed to grit out those familiar syllables was a gift in and of itself and not just, you know, generic introduction protocol.

“You have a lovely name,” he chirped, falling into step at your side.

You snorted, still a bit too bitter and sore. “You don’t have to try so hard to be nice, you know. To make up for saying something you feel bad about, I mean. It’s fine.”

His blinked his wide, hazel, eyes at you in way that looked a bit like you’d managed to surprise him. His eyelashes were long and soft, and they brushed against his cheeks with each shutter. Never trust people with nice eyelashes, you thought a bit petulantly. You’d known you were right to be cautious.

“You think I’m just saying that because I feel guilty?” he asked, not sounding particularly incredulous or insulted so much as genuinely curious. He tilted his head at you and some of his fringe slipped in front of his eyes, softening the sharp lines of his face. “Do people normally do that?”

You didn’t quite frown at him, but it was a close thing. You could feel your brow pinch.

“…I guess,” you huffed after a long moment, turning to stare back at the path ahead.

“Huh,” he mused, thoughtful. “Well, I really did mean it. And it’s a lot better than my name by far. I mean, really, Stefan? A bit on the nose, don’t you think? ‘Crown?’ Come on. Couldn’t my parents have been anymore original?”

You glanced over at him, a bit lost. “What does that mean?”

“Stefan?” he repeated with another one of those eyelash-sweeping blinks. “It means ‘crown.’”

“No,” you sighed, long suffering. “As in, how is that unoriginal? It’s a nice name.”

“Well, it’s because I—” he trailed off, gaze lingering in open astonishment. After a long moment of gaping at you like he’d just been clobbered across the back of the head with a baseball bat, he finally cleared his throat and looked back off into the trees with a tight shrug. “Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything I guess. Don’t worry about it.” He seemed to chew on that train of thought for a moment or two longer before turning back to face you with a wide grin that was just on the right side of smug. “You think it’s a nice name?”

“Whatever,” you huffed, cheeks starting to heat with something other than bitter chagrin. “Just please get me out of this forest before I fall over another cliff.”

Headmaster Ambrose the 63rd (the sixty-third! What in the nepo-nonsense was that?!) looked like a wizard straight out of some homey after-school-special, with silver spectacles perched on his rounded nose and a soft, pointed, cap atop his head that flopped endearingly at the tip. He was an antithesis to Crowley in every sense of the word—flowing robes replacing tight vests and formal wear, faded white accents rather than sharp black, and not a single bit of Sparkling Flair to be seen. Like everything else, as nice as he seemed, it was such a stark jump into the opposite direction that it had your hackles raised in caution.

“Our libraries are some of the most extensive in the country,” he smiled, warm and fond. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle behind the rims of his glasses. “I hope you’ll be able to find something that may be of some help to your situation.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, fighting the insane storybook urge to do something like curtsy.

He waved you off with a gentle shake of the head. “None of that ‘sir’ nonsense. You’re a guest a here! I hope my students have been treating you well?”

Stefan rubbed at the back of his neck and shot his headmaster a sheepish smile that was entirely, unfairly, handsome.

“Doing my best, sir.”

“Good lad,” he hummed, something nearly mischievous sparking in those blue-grey eyes of his. But you were hesitant to label it anything of the sort now that you’d seen what real sneaky nonsense looked like. This was more like… Children’s Program Mischief. That kind that usually involved an adult thinking themselves very clever for being able to sneak some vegetables into an afternoon snack. He turned back on you with that shining smile. “Allow me to find you an escort for the afternoon, and then we can get off to the library.”

“I’d be happy to show them around!” Stefan piped in.

“Is that so,” Ambrose mused, that same little grin playing over his mouth. “I thought you were meant to be in Equestrian Studies at the moment, hmm?”

“Well, I mean,” he spluttered, before collecting his argument and squaring his shoulders with another one of those blindingly bright smiles, “how could I possibly have left someone in need to fend for themselves, sir? I would have brought shame down on this entire institution! Heroes are meant to be made not born, after all!” He boomed, like someone cheering a school’s motto at a sports game.

All of this sounded like the largest crock of self-aggrandizing bullshit you’d ever heard, and by the time you’d had a whole internal debate with yourself over the merits of NRC’s outright nastiness versus this… whatever it was supposed to be, Ambrose was gesturing between the pair of you and saying something that you probably ought to be being paying attention to.

“Thank you, sir!” Stefan grinned, and Ambrose waved him off in that same pleasant way he had you earlier.

“You’re in excellent hands, Prefect,” the Headmaster assured as you were rushed out the door by the guy who was clearly going to be your newest Problem. “Take care! And please let me know if there’s anything at all that we can help you with.”

And then you were back out in the hallway, with Stefan already steering you towards who knew what. The archives, you hoped. But knowing your luck, probably not.

“You must be hungry, right?” he asked, perfectly polite. “Why don’t I take you to the cafeteria before we head over to the library?”

“I’m fine,” you said, just as your stomach gurgled a very loud complaint. You patted at your traitor of an abdomen in a silent reprimand and sighed, “You can just show me the way. I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me the whole day.”

“Nonsense,” he beamed, intertwining his arm with yours and tugging you off down another hallway before you could protest. He was so tall, and it should have been hard to keep up with his longer stride, but it wasn’t. “I like spending time with you.”

“What?” you blinked, thrown. Because maybe you’d hit your head or something, but you were pretty sure the last half hour had consisted of very little other than you being grumpy and unpleasant.

He canted his head to look down at you and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile.

“You’re nice to talk to,” he said. “Honest, I think. Would be the best way I could describe it. Genuine.” His hazel eyes went a bit distant, wistful. “There aren’t many people here like that. It’s different. Good different,” he promised, the corners of his smile tugging into something a bit teasing.

Your gaze tracked down to the brilliantly blue carpet beneath your feet and then around to the perfectly white walls. Other students filtered by in their starched uniforms and shiny, black, dress shoes—all impeccably groomed and all chattering idle nothings about the weather, about classes, exams. You could see the muddy imprints from your boots trailing along the floor and a few errant bits of grass fell in clumps from where they were still tangled up in your shoelaces. Something tight in you eased a bit at the mess, and you turned back to your companion with a sigh that was bordering far too close on ‘begrudgingly fond’ rather than the properly ‘put upon’ you were aiming for.

“If you say so.”

You hadn’t thought it was possible for the guy’s smile to get brighter, but somehow he managed. You squinted into the warmth of it with a strange, squirmy, feeling in your stomach that you didn’t think had much to do with being hungry.

“Come on then!” he beamed, tugging you along. “We don’t want to miss the Feast!”

“Feast?” you echoed, incredulous.

“With dancing silverware and everything,” he mock-whispered, like a secret just for the two of you.

“What the fuck,” you gaped, brain immediately latching onto the most ridiculous aspect of all of it. “How do you eat anything if it’s dancing?”

Stefan threw his head back with a roaring laugh that had you wanting to sink into your collar with your shoulders hunched up to your ears. But no one stopped to stare, or point, or snicker into their palms at his open enthusiasm. There were a few curious peepers, but once they seemed to identify the source of the noise, they all went back to wandering the halls in their perfectly pressed uniforms with nary a sly comment or sneer to be seen.

“See?” he beamed, tilting sideways to knock his shoulder against yours. “Honest. Now come on—we don’t want to miss out on all the grey stuff. It tastes way better than it sounds, promise.”

The pair of you entered the cafeteria right at the start of things, with dishes and forks just beginning to fly overhead in waves of strange, blinking, lights and motes of golden sparks. More than a few people waved at Stefan as he walked in, and he returned the greetings with polite, buoyant, ones of his own before herding you to an empty table off to the side.

“You don’t want to sit with your friends?” you asked, brow pinching in confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled around a spoonful of something already shoved in his mouth. There wasn’t any kind of plate in front of him, so he must have snatched it right out of the air. He swallowed and reached up to grab another. “Oh, no. That’s fine. Here! Try this!”

You leaned away from the spoon he held up to your lips with a huff and some obligatory complaints about how ‘you could feed yourself just fine, thank you very much.’ You plucked the bit of silverware from his fingers with a wary frown and very tactfully ignored that lingering, fluttering, warmth in your gut that you still hadn’t managed to completely snuff out.

“Is this… grey stuff?”

“Right on the money,” he winked, leaning forward to snatch up another flying fork. “My family’s not usually a fan of more ‘modern’ cuisine, so it’s always a treat to be able to try all the different foods at the Feasts here.”

You looked hesitantly at the goopy mess of monochromatic paste smeared across the spoon, and then back up at Stefan who was casually digging into his own floating mountain of toxic waste with an absolutely enraptured hum of satisfaction.

“Remind me to buy you a grilled cheese or something…” you muttered under your breath, before bravely swallowing the entire spoonful of sludge. And—huh. That was actually… pretty delicious. How weird.

You spent the rest of the luncheon event picking at random bits of floating foods as they danced by. Occasionally Stefan would lean forward to point out his favorites and give recommendations. He was surprisingly observant, despite whatever initial impressions his jock’s jawline and guileless grins may have led you to believe otherwise—taking easy note of the things you pushed aside and the ones you nibbled at more enthusiastically.

“Oh—you missed the desserts,” he lamented as the last remnants of a picked apart pie flew over your head.

“That’s fine,” you said, but he only shook his head and began to drag you off again with another of those brilliant grins.

And so began a weird sort of pseudo treasure hunt, where Stefan would take your hand and haul you off to some random corner of the castle with promises of whatever seemed to strike his fancy, or more accurately you supposed, whatever he seemed to think you might fancy.

“No one really uses this vending machine anymore, but somehow it always restocks and it has the best ice cream bars I’ve ever had. It’s wild! I’m sure you’ll love it!—“

“Oh, it is pretty cold down here, right? I didn’t even think about that. But… hmm… Here! I know the best place to grab a hot chocolate! It’s just over this way a bit—“

“These walls are kind of a drab view, yeah? Here! If we go down this way there’s a great little area to sit where you can see the whole bay—“

By the end of things, somehow you ended up back at the stables with that terror of a horse of his. And despite the runaround and the vaguely exhausting fact that Stefan’s social battery never seemed to wear itself out ever, it wasn’t… it wasn’t that bad, actually. Sometimes people would wave him down to talk, and he always introduced you and left the proverbial door open for you to join the conversation, but never asked you to participate, which was nice. You’d taken to just sort of slouching against his side in a food coma like a lizard on a rock as he answered whatever mundane questions all the other students asked of him. But otherwise, it was just the pair of you bopping around all over the campus.

Helios saw his master and whinnied merrily, and Stefan made an odd sort of chuffing noise in return that had you laughing into your palm.

“What?” He complained good-naturedly. “You’ve never barked at a dog before? It’s the same thing!”

“Of course it is,” you droned, lips twitching up at the corners.

The next destination was someplace on the coast that he was insisting was the absolute best place in the world to sit and think. Which if you wanted to do research, naturally you needed to get your head together about where to start, right? The only problem was that it was a solid hour hike away, but Stefan assured you that on horseback it was a much shorter journey.

You leaned forward on your tiptoes to get a look down the sprawling corridor of stalls, each larger and grander than the last. And each of their occupants following that exact same trend. There even looked like there was a horse with wings, which was—ah. Not helping the intimidation factor, to say the least.

“You can ride with me,” he offered. “If you’re uncomfortable, I mean. Sometimes it helps to feel like there’s someone more adept at the reins.”

You blinked, a bit taken aback that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily. But then then you focused on the rest of that offer and you and the horse shared a Look. And wasn’t that a trippy thing to notice. You immediately forced yourself not to think about it.

“I don’t know if that’s fair to Helios,” you pointed out.

“Nonsense!” Stefan waved you off, and Helios pinned his ears indignantly. “He’s an Andalusian. They’re war horses, you know? Built to be as sturdy and strong as any horse can be.” He said the last part with a sickly-sweet uptick to his voice, and leaned up against the beast’s flank like they were sharing an inside joke. “They say Prince Phillip’s legendary steed was an Andalusian, and they rode into battle against a dragon together.”

Helios’s grey muzzle twitched prissily and eventually the horse lowered his great head to thump against Stefan’s side with a gusty ‘harumph’ that had the man stumbling forward with a pleasant laugh.

“There you are, you big baby. I knew you had it in you.”

After giving the horse a firm pat pat on his rump, Stefan turned and offered you a hand.

“It’s easier if I help you up first,” he explained.

“Isn’t there like… a ladder, or something?” You tried, and Stefan grinned sneakily before ducking behind you and hauling you up on Helios’s back all in one go. You absolutely, positively, did not squeak, or anything else ridiculous like that. It was a—a squawk! The most indignant and put upon of noises!

Stefan laughed and waved off whatever terrible sounds you were making with a bemused ‘Sorry! Sorry!’ that was the absolute least apologetic thing you’d ever heard. And then he was swinging himself up near effortlessly into the saddle behind you and looping an arm around your waist.

“Sometimes it’s better to just get it over with,” he explained in your ear, like your brain hadn’t just absolutely Blue Screened at the new weight along your hips. “Like ripping off a bandaid. I know it can all be sort of intimidating for people who aren’t used to being around horses.”

When you didn’t respond, because you were still trying to sort cognizant thoughts of the mess of ‘!!!’ that was hard at work blotting out the rest of your brain, you felt him start to shift a bit behind you. His hands flexed a bit tighter, as if the idea of you not being secure enough in the saddle was in anyway the problem here. After another moment of your continued silence, Stefan leaned forward carefully to hook his chin over your shoulder and spoke in that same carefully polite way he had when he’d worried he’d insulted you all those hours ago in the forest.

“If you’re still uncomfortable I can get you down if you want,” he offered, voice dipping low in something that sounded like hesitance. “I know I—I mean, you don’t have to go riding with me, if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be…” He cleared his throat, and you must have been going delirious because out of the corner of your eyes you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning pink. “I can… I can just take you to the library now, if you want,” he said. “I know I’ve already been pretty selfish with your time today.”

Helios shifted to stamp his feet and you twisted your fingers nervously into his mane. You really didn’t feel entirely great about being so high, on something so wild and big. And honestly, you had wasted a lot of time sightseeing with your impromptu tour guide. If you were being in anyway rational, you should demand Stefan dismount and take you to the library like he promised. But all the same… Today had been—all of it had been…

“Just don’t let me fall,” you huffed, fighting the urge to duck your chin down into your collar to hide the rising heat in your cheeks.

“Of course not!” Stefan beamed, straightening himself back up so suddenly that he nearly tipped the both of you from the saddle. You sent him a glare over your shoulder and he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Sorry, sorry. From here out starts the ‘of course not.’ That was just a test run.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, letting him maneuver your hands to better hold the reins alongside his.

Naturally, by the time you got halfway to the beach, Stefan remembered that the library closed early on Mondays, and that you’d well and truly missed your opportunity as you’d been off gallivanting with him and his ridiculousness all day.

But you know what? It was fine. You’d just come back tomorrow. And maybe the next day too.

#Twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #Prince Stefan x Reader #Twst OC x Reader #Commission #Heroes vs Villains #My Writing #The Prince & The Pauper Prefect #Dire Crowley #Divus Crewel #RSA #Ambrose

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shinjisdone · 11 months

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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And It's Not Them (Ignihyde; 6)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.

'Nobody really thinks anyone without any magic is or can be interesting, but I honestly thought you were the most fascinating person ever since I saw you...'

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 1: Heartslabyul

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Scarabia

Part 5: Pomefiore

Part 7: Diasomnia

Alright, maybe staying in your room became too much.

Especially if you have love letters, hand-made school notes, flowers and now a flying mirror throwing you compliments all stuffed in your dusty Ramshakle room. The one place that is supposed to be a haven is now suffocating.

It's hard to digest this 'secret admirer'. All of this and all that they tell you is so flattering and so much. The majority of the students here are usually kind of pricks, like villains out of a fairytale book, so to have someone pour their heart out so unashamadly, even knocking Rook out of the park, is...shocking. Whenever they are brought up, it leaves you stumped.

You cannot deny the chaos they caused...after all these overblots, you thought the worst of the worst is over...but things at Night Raven College never seem to be still. You understand that others are upset and you don't want them to be upset...but what are you going to do? Find that admirer yourself so they can get their grande, over-the-top confession over with?

Idia Shroud

Fingers are vehemently and obsessively typing codes upon codes of the security doors - the new security doors that Idia just implemented.

AAAAAAA HE KNOWS HE IS NEXT

NO NO NO Idia is no fool. DO not take him for a FOOL! Each dorm was targeted and attacked one after another and he KNOWS he will be next!

He knows! He watched everything unfold online! Through the cameras! He counted the days on the calender! And well, he knows the majority from Ortho. The real MVP.

This is bad. BAD BAD BAD.

Some weirdo, self-proclaimed Chad Romeo is gonna barge into his dorm - or sabotage his scores - or destroy all his communication IRL - or GASP delete his steam library!

Whatever they may be, they are waaaaay over themselves! Going on some kind of Z like Zorro vengeance x romance anime genre and thinking they are the good guy.

Spoiler alert: If Idia and all he loves (his brother and his games) get hurt, YOU ARE NOT THE GOOD GUY!

Just let them give up on this weird escapade and have them confess already! Then he can be spared!

THEY BETTER GET THEMSELVES TOGETHER, OH SO ROMANITC SECRET ADMIRER, AND HAVE THEM CONFESS TO YOU ALREADY!!!!!111211!!

Oh. Wait.

That's actually not something Idia wants.

It was just a sudden brain blast idea. If the admirer just gets their confession, then surely Idia and his dorm will be spared (because he is sure he'll be next! I mean, the order is so??? obvious???) - but if they do confess...you might accept...

In fact, Idia doesn't want anyone to confess to you in the first place at all.

Not even himself!

Uh, n-n-n-not that...he wants to c-c-c-c-c-confess to you, or anything...

FML this is hard

He is sharpening up security left and right and imploring Ortho for some kind of advice on what to do. Idia is too panicked to make a decision.

The dormhead is certain he will at least get humiliated, his one weakness! If not, then surely something worse is going to happen...

Sure, he did awful things before and during his, er, overblot but ngl hasn't everyone? Why can't the admirer just skip him like an event?

Leave him alone and just focus on their goal...which is you.

The solution is right there - have the admirer confess to you already. Idia can even lend a hand with his tech-geek knowledge!

But it feels so wrong. The jealously and pettiness is eating him up, causing him to hesitate.

Idia is imagining what it would be like if you said 'yes' to a normie...and it just gives him more reasons to shut himself in.

The thought of failing to seize the moment leaves a black hole in his stomach...he's both scared, paranoid, jealous and upset.

He is just one click away from making a choice...and maybe he should try being risky for once...

Ortho Shroud

Very not against you having a secret admirer! Even when they are being very bold!

Even Ortho notes how unusually determined this admirer is. Isn't distance adoration supposed to be more delicate and...not happen so often? It's been almost a month and everybody's talking about the admirer and their anitcs! Not very "secretive" if you ask him.

It is none of his business...if it weren't for his dear big brother!

Ortho can see through him as if he were glass. It is beyond obvious on how he feels about you and your admirer. If only he wouldn't shut himself in so often and for such a long time, literally everyone could realize his deep feelings for you. And Ortho wants to do nothing but help his brother.

Hence he was so uncertain when Idia kept on asking him to tail the admirer - so far so that they were able to track them and find out who they are.

He keeps on tabs - while Idia keeps on fighting himself on what to do. It goes on and on in circles until someone decides on something.

The robot boy grows worried...and asks his brother to follow his heart rather his fear.

Well, this is strange.

Why on earth are there signs and trinkets wanting to lead you to a path as if you were lost? What is this, Hensel and Gretel?

You'd have long chucked it up as a bad attempt as a joke but all the signs were actually...holograms hovering near the walls. Only nerds or Ignihyde students would be smart enough to be able to create such things but they are also too chill to even think up any jokes. Besides, the path seems to lead to the spring, a public space. Why should anyone want to lead anyone to a usually crowded place such as that?

Peculiar that only you are here to see the holograms, too.

Certainly nothing too outrageous would happen and you'd make sure to keep your distance as you made your way there. In fact, once you came close enough (by hiding behind a pillar, you aren't taking your chances) you could make out a lone figure sitting on the spring. They seemed to hold something rather big in their hands...

This...couldn't be it, could it? The destination is a person?

You cautiously approach...only for a blue light to blind you.

Ortho Shroud

You winced as you took a few steps back, hissing like a cat.

The light dimmed down siginificantly and a figure was a bit too close for your liking.

"So sorry, Prefect!"

You blink and your vision cleared. It was Ortho!

You ask him about what he's doing here and the many holograms around. He avoids each question, pointing out how there are no holograms, what are you talking about?

He didn't almost barge into you, he was practicing bis new, updated gear! What are you talking about?

And no, you did not hear a yelp. What are you talking about?

You lean to the side, peeking to the left of the robot boy. He still tries to get your attention on him.

The silhouette is gone...

Idia Shroud

Oh god WHAT HAS HE DONE?

The good thing...? The right call...?

How is he supposed to know? Panicking while typing away and suddenly gritting his teeth and cancelling all of this!

Cancel! Cancel, cancel, cancel!

Just a moment ago he was so diligently planning everything...the signs, the locations, making sure there would be no one but you two...

No one but you two...

Just you two at the spring...three special words and Idia would no longer have to cower in anguish...

He sucked in a cold breath, as if his entire room was a hallway of death.

"Aaahhugh, damn it!"

Keyboards are swept aside as his hands bash against the screen in attempts to open up another tab.

"Screw this make-believe date! Screw this confession trope! It never works anyway and you always have to wait for the next episode ONLY FOR SOMEONE TO INTERRUPT IT ALL AND THAT CHARACTER WILL BE ME!"

Fingers aggressively tap on one word over and over again. Cancel.

"I'm nothing much but I'm not gonna be so STUPID to HELP MY RIVAL get the MC! That's self-sabotage and wallowing in pity times 100! No, 'secret admireeeeer', you will NOT get with the Prefect and maybe I will not but some overconfident, extroverted romantic-schmantic romeo is definitely NOT gonna be THE CHOSEN ONE!!!"

Idia keeps on tapping and prattling. Cancel. Cancel. Cancel.

Alas, the panic in his voice moprhed to petty anger.

He knows who they are, which dorm they are from. If anything were to happen to him or Ortho, at least he got some info...

Giddy over the advantage, the dormleader barely noticed that he was on speaker...

A message was quickly sent to him and he stops, gulping down his fear.

Ignihyde might not be spared as he wanted it to be but for once Idia followed his stupid, foolish, love-struck heart...and he feels a bit less immediate regret than usual.

[yeaaaaa Ignihyde wasnt much, there is only...1 person honestly. Ortho is like...middle schooler weenie-hut junior edition he gets no say in anything regarding love. He only loves his brother! Does anything for his big bro (>‿♥) Idia is such a shut-in that you cannot put him in many scenarios anyway...but i like the thought of him freaking out :) ]

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst scenarios #secret admirer #twst x reader #twst secret admirer #gender neutral imagine #Ignihyde #ortho shroud #idia shroud #reader insert #twst headcanons #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #idia freaking out is my favorite thing about him #just a bit of AAAAAA #lil coward crybaby he is so much like me fr #I may not be able to be the prince but YOU are a pauper too!#he prb thinks

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ineffable-gallimaufry · 8 months

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pokemon crime and punishment. pokemon pride and prejudice. pokemon sense and sensibility. pokemon prince and pauper. pokemon war and peace. pokemon old man and sea. pokemon romeo and juliet. pokemon mice and men. pokemon beautiful and damned. pokemon green eggs and ham.

is this anything

#hehehe #pokemon #crime and punishment #pride and prejudice #war and peace #sense and sensibility #the prince and the pauper #the old man and the sea #romeo and juliet #of mice and men #the beautiful and damned #green eggs and ham #that's all of em for reference

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brokentrafficknight · 4 months

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Got asked to do this one a while back but didn't have a Whitney one yet.

#rwby #jaune arc #whitley schnee #oscar pine #olivia pine #genderbend #forged papers #pine gold #jaune and the brocons #rich farmers #prince and the pauper

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cj-writes-things · 4 months

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*commercial voice* have you grown tired of stories where the girl goes from rags to riches after meeting the prince? (*side eyes disney*)

Well if you have, check below the cut for a short story where that trope gets turned upside down!

A Common Tale with a Twist

Part 1/2

He came crashing through the bushes out of nowhere one evening, panting and staring into the trees as if he was being hunted. The attire he wore, ripped beyond repair though it was, looked particularly fancy this time- and that's saying something, for a prince. He had a crown on his head that appeared to be quite ceremonious; it was a wonder it hadn't fallen off yet. His appearance startled the young girl he met in the woods who stood tending a fire. She gasped upon seeing him, but, before she could ask questions, he collapsed. She lay down beside him but at first couldn't sleep, for her mind was racing with questions. Eventually her turmoil gave way to her exhaustion.

Later that night, she was awakened by his footsteps, and she rose to find him gathering dry wood. At last, perhaps she could be granted some answers. Taking in his heightened finery, she asked, "Where were you?"

Reaching for a low branch, he allowed himself a wry smile but didn't turn to face her.

"At my wedding," came his simple reply.

The girl tried to hide her shock.

"What?"

"You heard me. My mother arranged a marriage between myself and the eldest princess from the neighboring kingdom. A very fair girl she is, born into wealth and destined for leadership. To unite us, Mother said, to strengthen our alliance, the wedding was to be held earlier today. There were supposed to be great feasts and dancing, with everyone in their finest suits and dresses, their gold and rubies. Mother said it would be the event of the decade, at least."

The girl, feeling small and insignificant in her tattered, simple tunic, stared at her bare feet and leaned against a tree for support. A royal wedding was a tremendous occasion, one that held great weight both socially and economically for the subjects of the kingdom. She, however, was not counted among those fortunate subjects; deemed an outcast at birth, she had lived life alongside the castle grounds, which had always been a dangerous game- and she was certainly no wealthy princess. The boy standing before her was the sole reason she had stuck around, and now...

"Then why are you here?" she managed to inquire, sounding only a tad strangled.

"Well," the prince began, still collecting sticks from the undergrowth around the little camp. "I thought you knew I had never been much a fan of royal ceremonies. Weddings were never my speed," he added over his shoulder carelessly. "However, the queen wasn't exactly supportive of my personal taste. She argued that no son of hers was going to turn down such an opportunity and disgrace the kingdom. I believe she found herself convincing."

He paused for a moment with his hand wrapped around an overhanging branch as he stared searchingly into the flames, his voice growing strangely soft and distant as he said, "I almost went through with it."

The girl watched him in silence as he finally broke his gaze from the fire and switched breezily back into the nonchalant, self-assured manner he normally assumed.

"But then I thought of you," he continued with a trademark arrogant grin. "And remembered princesses aren't my thing. So I left. I ran away, and now... well, now I'm here, as you can see."

The young prince tossed his gathered fuel on the fire and shrugged as though he hadn't just shot a canon of revelation into the conversation. All the girl could do was blink rapidly in shock and gape at him as if he had sprouted wings. At last she found her voice enough to say what she scarcely allowed herself to hope: "So you left it all behind... because of me?"

The prince smirked, taking her flustered response as an invitation to make use of his charm. Suddenly he was holding one of her hands in his own, raising it to his lips for a common gesture he'd had to perform many times throughout the social affairs of the palace. There was a different air about him now, though, something more wild, something more free. This time, the act was his choice, not his mother's expectation, and it showed. Before either of them knew it, he was quite literally sweeping the girl off her feet, half-dancing and half-embracing his low-born companion who had always been a much truer friend to him than any of the elite children the queen encouraged him to consort with. He managed to make her laugh with delight, and that was worth more to him than all the gold in the castle. At last, he answered her question.

"Of course I did, my love."

~~~

(part 2 here)

#oh wow look at that something not LoL related #the prince × the pauper #miscellaneous short stories #common tale with a twist #my writing #writers on tumblr #short story #not fandom #dont you hate it when your mom tries to marry you off to some random rich girl #while your gf is literally in your backyard #stay tuned for part 2

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aquamarine-dream-queen · 1 month

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Fairy Tale April Day 29: The Prince and the Pauper

What did you expect? Stolas is a prince and Blitzø grew up working in the circus.

#Fairy Tale April #The Prince and the Pauper #fairy tales #helluva boss #hellaverse #stolitz #stolas #blitzø

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overlordraax · 8 months

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Here's my art for NyonSuperStar's fantastic fic 'A Pauper in Prime's Paint' for the @tf-bigbang

It's a fantasy au where Roddy has to take the place of Acolyte of the Matrix, Orion Pax. It's also got Rodimags and Unicron and Sentinel being a jackass. Go read it! It's a lot of fun.

I had a lot of fun trying to get the designs to work for both Rodi and his disguise and to find the look for this au, but I'm super happy with how all of this came out.

#not described #my art #Rodimus #Hot Rod #Orion Pax #Ultra Magnus #Rodimags #TF Big Bang #Fantasy au #Prince and the Pauper #NyonSuperStar

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mickedy · 5 months

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As someone who has been an Undertale fan since 2015 and has a deep fondness for a majority of the community and fanworks that came from it. Why was Dreamtale written with two different versions of Sans who are twin brothers and not like. Sans and his actual brother. From the game. His brother Papyrus. From UNDERTALE the game Dreamtale is deriving from. Papyrus his BROTHER

#my biggest pet peeve possibly ever #this is prince and the pauper all over again #i love sans hes one of my favorite characters from possibly anything ever but i swear to god #papyrus is what makes him INTERESTING theyre written as a package deal

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lackadaisycal-art · 4 months

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Still haven't read the Prince and the Pauper but I assume they make friends in the novel by playing beyblades and exchanging pokemon cards because that's how it happened when I was little

#the prince and the pauper #art #illustration #fan art #character design #character art #beyblade #pokemon #pokemon cards #nostalgia #childhood #fairytale #literature #bookblr #readblr

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