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[britishassistant]

An Act Of Infinite Optimism

Trucy notices it first.

Of course she does. Polly, for all he’s quick on the uptake, can still be kinda oblivious at times!

Honestly, she wouldn’t know what he’d do without her help in court, he’d be—! Well, not hopeless, but certainly more sweaty than he already is!

Trucy’s been a magician for years, and helping Daddy win poker games for even longer. She’s had far more time to practice at perceiving than Polly has, so she can’t really fault him, can she?

The point is, Trucy perceives a lot about the world around her. Little things, hidden things, things that other people don’t notice.

She’s like, the best at that. Even better than Polly (though he is catching up.)

But when he’s pulling apart Lamiroir’s testimony on the stand and shocking the singer so much that her veil flies up when she rears back in surprise, Trucy can’t help thinking as she watches, “Huh, doesn’t Lamiroir’s jaw look a lot like Polly’s?”

And of course, once she’s thought that, she kind of can’t stop?

It’s not just the jaw that resembles Polly. They both have the same long-fingered hands, the same pale brown hair, the same slight stature, heck, even the same Chords of Steel when Lamiroir calls out Daryan Crescend!

Sure, Polly has a darker complexion and brown eyes instead of blue, but Trucy’s doing biology in school! Maybe she can’t remember what the square with all the rabbits is called, but she knows brown eyes are more likely to show up even in the kids of blue eyed people.

Still, she tells herself, she can’t just jump to conclusions like this! She learned that lesson at Ashley’s pool party not long after she became a Wright. She doesn’t know Polly’s family situation, doesn’t know if he has relatives in Borginia that Lamiroir might secretly be part of. For all she knows, Lamiroir’s a distant aunt or something! A distant aunt who, for some inexplicable reason, looks scarily a whole lot like Polly.

Yeah.

Which is why, when they get back to the Agency after the trial, Trucy subtly segues from talking about Daddy’s secret mission to, “What about you Polly? Were your parents away on business a lot when you were a kid?”

Polly stops.

Only for a moment, not long enough that anyone who isn’t Trucy would notice. To anyone else, he’s moving stuff into neat piles on the sofa.

But Trucy watches as his hand creeps towards his other wrist between stacking, fidgeting with the gold bangle there.

“Ah, that’s kinda complicated?” He attempts to evade. “And it’s not all that interesting, so.”

“C’mon, Polly!” She presses. “You’re one of the Wrights now, so we gotta know! It’d be super rude if we invited you to Thanksgiving, but there’s a whole family of Pollys we left out on accident! I gotta know how many places we need at the table! We might even need to buy more chairs!”

One of the Wright Anything Agency, she means.

She’s not sure why it came out like it did.

But Polly’s eyes are shining slightly, and he actually stops fidgeting for a moment to swipe a shirt sleeve across them. Maybe he got dust in them?

“No, I, ah.” He lets out a laugh that sounds more sad than anything. “I don’t really have anyone else? I mean, I only came to the States when I was eight, and I was fostered before that, and, and after too, but—! There’s not really any, no bio and my fosters were never really—! It’s just me, I mean. If, if I do have an invite.”

!!!

Uncle Valant then bursts in, so Trucy kinda has to put a pin in this to deal with a blast from her own past, but!!

Polly was fostered. Polly only came to the States when he was eight.

Polly doesn’t know who his bio mom is!!

It’s practically guaranteed, so sure a bet that she’d be willing to go all in on it, but she needs to be certain. 99% isn’t 100, but she can’t provide that last 1% herself.

She needs someone else to see it. A witness.

Her first instinct is Daddy, but Daddy is so busy with his secret mission he barely stops by long enough to press a kiss to Trucy’s forehead before he’s gone again. Also, he’s never seen Lamioir before, so he can’t really speak decisively on the matter.

Uncle Valant is also an option, but. But even if he knows Lamiroir, he doesn’t know Polly. He can’t give unbiased testimony based on one conversation, even if he is a magician.

Someone who’s observed Polly and Lamiroir for long enough apart to make a solid judgement comparing them together…

She could kiss Polly when he takes them to Prosecutor Gavin’s office to eavesdrop.

She lets the boys have their fun as they poke around, but makes an announcement in the hall when Polly decides it’s time to leave.

“I need to use the bathroom! It’s that time of month, you know!” Is enough to leave Polly red-faced and spluttering as she flounces around the corner, then takes two lefts and a right that lead her right back to Prosecutor Gavin’s office.

Thank heavens for Uncle Miles and field trips to visit him with Daddy before he left again for Europe.

“Fraulein Magician?” Prosecutor Gavin looks amused as she slips inside the door. “I believe the ladies’ room is back—“

“Shh!” She whisper-scolds. “I need to talk to you about something important! And secret!”

“An important secret?” To his credit, the prosecutor does grow a bit more serious at that. “Well, danke for your trust, Fraulein. Consider me all ears.”

Trucy takes a deep breath.

“I think Lamiroir might secretly be Polly’s bio mom.”

Prosecutor Gavin stares at her for a few moments. The corners of his eyes twitch, and his lips press together.

The amusement is back in full force, barely held back by Prosecutor Gavin’s wavering self-control.

“Before you laugh or say it’s impossible or whatever!” Trucy draws herself up, does her best imitation of Uncle Miles’ scary stare. “Think about Polly and Lamiroir, for a second. Everything you know about them. Isn’t it weird how similar they are, especially if they aren’t related somehow?”

The amusement is fading slightly from Prosecutor Gavin’s face as he considers it. “Yes, but Fraulein, Herr Forehead is American. How exactly could Lamiroir, a native of Borginia, have a son in this country when it’s her first time here? One she has completely failed to acknowledge every time they’ve spoken, no less.”

Trucy smirks.

“Polly wasn’t born in America. He told me he came to the states when he was little, that he’s been fostered ever since. Plus, hasn’t Lamiroir said over and over she can’t remember any of her past beyond performing with Matchi? Well, what if part of that not remembering is not remembering that she’s not Borginian? Or that she already had a son and had to give him up?”

Prosecutor Gavin doesn’t do what she’d like him to do, which is collapse into his plush desk chair crying, “Mein Gott, you’re right! How could you be so intelligent and beautiful, Fraulein Trucy Wright?!”

But she sees her words hit the mark. The indulgent amusement is all gone, a deep and pensive frown on his face as he messes with his bangs.

“It is an astute observation, Fraulein Magician.” He finally says. “But, as I’ve told Herr Forehead countless times, theories do not a case make. Nein, what we need is evidence.”

Trucy can hear Polly calling for her, voice leaning into concerned, but one word makes her pause as she goes to slip out of Prosecutor Gavin’s office.

“We?”

“Ja, Fraulein Magician.” Klavier Gavin’s eyes glitter with a mischievous determination reflected on Trucy’s own face. “We.”

[britishassistant]

So i cackled seeing their potential brother in law opinions for the adopted AU and stayed AU but what would they think of Yuuken as a potential brother in law? Even with the probable possibility that he’s the prefect, a vigilante who always ruin their plans. Would they still be fine with him being a potential brother in law?

Btw i love the supervillain AU a lot! Its unique and funny as hell and i hope to see more stuff like this in the future. So keep up the good work!

(Also this AU reminds me of another AU because of some similarities between them. However, the AU im talking about is uhhhh much darker than the supervillain AU (Its called the Silver Bullet AU by Jackplushie if your curious))

Thank you so much for the ask and your support, dear anon!

And there would be. So much conflict.

Because as you said, on the one hand Yuuken is (as they believe) The Prefect!! That damn vigilante who keeps foiling their plans, when even the heroes can’t!! It’d be an even more of a slap in the face if Yuu chose him than if they chose one of their coworkers!

But on the other hand…it does make a weird amount of sense.

Because you’d have to be blind to not see how Yuu and Yuuken care for each other. Two peas in a pod, the reporter and their cameraman, unflinching loyalty to each other even in the face of maniacal supervillainy. And The Prefect does at least take the time to hear what each villain has to say, try to understand their motivations even if he ultimately stands in their way. And….well,

At least if Yuu fell in love with a hero like The Prefect, their brother would know their partner would never try to use them to hurt him.

(Needless to say, if Yuu ever found out about this, they’d be torn between mortification and pulling a stitch laughing.)

[britishassistant]

Larian Studios certainly made a decision when they made Astarion the only one in the Tadfools with Sibling Experience (TM).

And they were correct to do so.

[britishassistant]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

[britishassistant]

I have literally just spent the last few days going through all of the twst supervillain au posts. ALL OF THEM.

It’s not 3 am here for like the third night in a row what are you talking about

I have so many thoughts and could ask so many questions but I am limiting myself for now because spamming is bad! No spamming, me! 😂

SO we got the event of Azul and the twins finding out that Yuu is the child of Crowley. And we got that little snippet saying Yuu wanted Azul to help them tell the other villains so they could just get it out of the way because they were tired of having it hang over their head.

BUT WE NEVER ACTUALLY GOT THOSE SCENES/THAT SCENE!

I wanna know how that wentttttt!!!! What happened?!?! How did it go??? Did Yuu tell them one on one? Or did they sit them all down together? How did each of them react to the news? I feel like it would have to be one on one because telling them altogether would be a recipe for a LOT of emotions all mixed together to create a volatile bomb.

Pleaseeeeee I wanna knowwwwwww!!! Please gift me us with your words of wonder oh supervillain AU writing deity!!!!!!

(Also I just wanted to say back when you were giving out names to everyone my first thought for a name for Kalim was just ‘Minion’ because you compared Jamil and Kalim to Megamind and Minion and I was like “that would be a total Jamil thing to do - just call Kalim ‘Minion’ because he was tired of Kalim getting all the attention in their civilian lives and this was supposed to be about JAMIL DANGIT so even though Kalim invited himself along he doesn’t get a cool name he just gets ‘Minion’ and Kalim would unironically love it. But then you named him Water Boy and that has the same energy lmao 😂)

Thank you so much for enjoying the supervillain AU so far!!

(Make sure you get some sleep though!! It’s important to try and maintain a regular sleep schedule!!)

And basically the answer to your question is that Yuu called a quasi-truce of sorts to sit down all the supervillains to deliver the news. Both because it was the easiest way to avoid the accusations of favoritism that would arise if the reporter went around one at a time, and ensured they’d only need to go through the whole thing once.

Of course, the other six supervillains are only willing to humor this because it’s Yuu that called it. They may have all brought their most trusted aides along with certain, ah, “safety measures” just in case anyone else tries anything, but even these are pretty tame compared to their usual fare. It’s a silent agreement that everyone is on their best behavior in front of their host.

Even if they’re a bit disgruntled by the fact that this meeting is being held in the second Monstro Lounge location, and Leviathan and the Leech twins are flitting around Yuu like a particularly jealous school of fish.

Worse, the reporter isn’t even telling them to stop.

And then Yuu finally comes out with what they want to say and—

Oh.

Oh, now the other supervillains can understand Azul’s protective impulses.

Vil and Idia are having the hardest time processing it and have the most questions, all told. Their mental image of Crowley and their mental image of Yuu are so different after all, it’s a struggle not to ask, “but has there actually been a paternity test and are we sure this isn’t just one of the world’s most depraved lies?”

In fairness, Crowley has done nothing to disabuse them of the notion that this isn’t the exact kind of behavior he would sink to if mildly inconvenienced.

Of all of them, Malleus and Riddle are probably taking it the best. After all, they both know what it’s like being the prized heirs of people who cannot afford to let them shirk their duties. Either because the well being of others’ depends on them taking up that mantle, or their parent’s pride.

Either way, they’ll support Yuu’s search for freedom from their villainous father’s legacy, by taking up the mantle of head of Night Raven themselves if need be.

Please give Leona and Jamil two to five minutes to reboot. Both have partially blue-screened at the motifs of being cast aside and the inesacabilty of family bloodline inherent in Yuu’s backstory. Once they’re back to normal, they’ll be some of Yuu’s staunchest defenders, but give them forty eight hours to process first.

Maybe eighty two.

After Yuu’s answered almost all the questions, Ace butts in, “So, you kept sticking your nose in ‘cause you wanted to get kidnapped?”

Yuu shrugs, “Not, not wanted? But it was a bit less nerve wracking if I knew I’d done something to merit being there, so to speak. Made it less likely that it was because you’d worked out my heritage.”

The other villains and minions nod, satisfied.

But Deuce pipes up with a worried frown curving his brow.

“So, does this mean you won’t be investigating our schemes anymore?”

A hush spreads through the room. All eyes are fixed on the reporter, waiting for their response with bated breath.

Yuu grins, a gloriously competitive spark in their eyes. “Oh, you wish.”

[britishassistant]

Poor Paranoiac Yuu ;-;

Is there a second part to the “Sues for Defamation” ficlit? I would love to read Yuu’s response to learning their life is a story in twst - and see how they react to Vil and Idia and that Vil is playing the part of one of their abusive step siblings oof.

Also… you have never confirmed… DID Yuu do those things???? DID Yuu plan to have their little sister kidnapped? Sure, they refused to apologize and told her to fuck off, but that doesn’t mean they did it. It just means they refused to say they did it and apologize for something they didn’t do.

Maybe they were saying “fuck you” to their sibling for their sibling trying to make them apologize to them for something they didn’t even do. Even after they had grown closer. Even though the sister knew the other claims of bullying and harassment were lies. I know I would have been pissed too.

So, I’m curious about Yuu! And I would love to know what Vil and Idia’s reactions would be if Yuu just… went off on the script/story in Twisted Wonderland like “this is SUCH BULLSHIT! I can’t even escape the lies of my so-called ‘family’ even in an entirely different universe are you kidding me?!?”

Paranoiac Yuu really do be goin through it 😩

Thank you so much!!

And there is! Though I will admit, it will still be from Vil and Idia’s perspectives, and focusing a little more on their perceptions of Yuu’s actions as the “villainess” than on Yuu’s discovery of the existence of Lost Princess.

They’re currently dealing with overblots and wrangling the one brain cell duo plus Grim, they’re kind of preoccupied right now!

Though worry not! Their blissful ignorance will soon come to an end—particularly when one of our heroes takes it upon himself to set the stage for an unmasking…

Here’s an excerpt from near the end of the next chapter:

There are two ways to read these lines, Vil is suddenly realizing.

One is as a hero decisively warning a scheming villainess that his patience with her wiles has run dry and that there will be consequences for her actions.

And the other…

As you say,

Yuu do be going through it in this.

[britishassistant]

Freeze! ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ You’re under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!

Aaah, thank you so much!!

I have no idea why tumblr hid this from my inbox and only just revealed it to me, but it was so sweet to receive!! Thank you so much @twstsimp !!

[britishassistant]

30 Questions for Your Tav! [ Ask Meme ]

[ Send in a number for a question to be answered! What is your Tav like? Who are they as a person? ]

Your Tav as a Companion

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)? 2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside? 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? 4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have? 5. Describe their idle animations! 6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction? 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? 8. After Act 3, what does their life look like? What are they talking about at the reunion party?

Back to Basics

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name? 10. Does your Tav have a last name? Is there a meaning behind it? 11. What is your Tav’s go-to comfort food? 12. Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why? 13. What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors? 14. Where are they from? What was home like? 15. Is your Tav more likely to fight/flight/freeze/fawn? 16. What do they do for fun, when not adventuring? What are their hobbies? 17. Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends? 18. Where/with whom do they feel safest? 19. What is their MBTI Type?

Deep Dives

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present? 21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today! 22. How is your Tav’s relationship with their family? Their parents? 23. How does your Tav act in situations of stress? In moments of peace? 24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw? 25. What is something they would die on a hill over? 26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets! 27. What is the worst thing they’ve ever done/said to someone they love? 28. Describe a smell that reminds your Tav of childhood. 29. What fears keep them up at night? 30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

[britishassistant]

Setting The Tempo

You are exhausted.

Turns out, falling through the cracked floor into a crypt is not the way you wanted to spend this morning. Nor is attempting to fight the treasure hunters who decided to kill first, ask questions never. Especially once you realized that the people with you are only highly skilled at fighting solo.

You shudder at the memory of seeing the firebolt leave Gale’s fingers and hit the grease covered floor. Which you all were standing on.

Even now, your clothes smell faintly of char.

And then, after somehow finishing off your attackers, the four of you have spent the rest of the day entirely lost inside this place.

It’s all very well to know every square inch of the place is trapped and all the doors are locked when you have nothing to disarm or unlock them with. And the one door you did manage to unlock? With the one set of tools you found that didn’t immediately break inside the lock? Led to a room of skeletons that decided being dead was less fun than trying to get you to join their number.

You don’t even know what set them off! Astarion was just leaning against a wall, lost his footing for a moment, and then you were facing a horde of undead!

You all got as far away from that room as you physically could before setting up camp.

At least the room you’ve found is somewhat spacious. Enough that everyone can set up their tents a fair distance from each other and still have room to spare. You’ve circled the perimeter a few times, and found no hidden entrances or enemies that could take you off guard. A few small antechamers, but they only open onto the main room. All is made of that same thick stone keeping you trapped here, so unless an orthon escaped the Hells and is hiding somewhere in the bowels of this place and decides to engage in some recreational wall flattening, you should be able to rest unmolested.

Ha ha. Ha.

By the gods, you wish you were hyperbolizing.

You duck behind a pillar to tug on something a little more comfortable than the leather jerkin you’ve been stuck in for the last forty eight hours.

You’d sworn you’d never forgive Trappola for making you announce yourself as “Saer Daisy Fluffington the Third” at the last inn to receive this pack of supplies. You’d doubled down once you’d seen the “bard appropriate attire” he’d selected.

Right now though, when you’re pulling on a cotton shirt and pants that feel as light and fluffy as clouds compared to your battered armor? Shoes worn to softness that ease the blisters on your feet? Not to mention fresh undergarments?

You wouldn’t be opposed to committing murder if the ginger punk needed you to, is all you’re saying.

You try and give your armor and boots a rudimentary wash with the carafe of water you’ve scavenged. The leather and cloth doesn’t look too much cleaner by the time you’re through, but hopefully it’ll mean some of the smoke smell dissipates once it dries.

You spot Gale standing by the fire. Maybe he knows some of those cantrips that make cleaning easier? Prestidigitation, perhaps? Worst he can say is no, or that he’s all out of energy for the day.

You amble over, mouth opening—

“Go to Hell.”

You stiffen on instinct, your lip curling. “And a good evening to you too.”

Gale lets out a wry laugh.

“Glad to know you’re a good sport.”

You’re really not sure what in your tone communicated that to him, but you’re not going to start a fight after everything you’ve been through today.

He resumes staring at the fire, a solemn set to his brow.

“‘Go to Hell.’ An everyday expression. So trivial it’s almost meaningless. But we’ve been to Hell. It’s real. And it isn’t trivial.”

You say nothing.

“Devils, dragons, mind flayers— they used to be abstracts. Pictures on a piece of paper.” Gale mutters. “What a difference a day makes. Now we have tadpoles slithering through our heads like carnivorous foeti.”

He looks to you, beseeching. “That’s not abstract.”

Perhaps you should take a gentle touch. Be the soothing reassurance he so clearly wants you to be.

But you’re tired and you’re sore and you’d rather say what you’re actually thinking for once before you go mad.

“Abstract or not, by now it’s kind of academic.” You spread your hands wide. “Brooding will get us nowhere. Action will.”

The wizard’s brow furrows, and his head tilts slightly to the right.

“The ballet of flames invites reflection. But, you’re right. Let’s be up with the lark—find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.” He smiles at you.

You nod. “Best plan I’ve heard all day. Good night, Gale.”

He preens slightly at that, preparing to turn away and head to his tent.

“Oh, and Gale?”

“Hm?” He looks back at you.

“Next time, I’d advise against using that line on anyone who lived through the Descent of Elturel.” You lean in, conspiratorial. “Hardly the most pleasant associations.”

The wizard actually blanches, a wave of emotion sweeping across his face.

You give him a tight smile as you turn, making a beeline for the stone door to the antechamber you’d noticed earlier.

A large hand clamps down around your elbow, jerking you to a stop.

“What were you two talking about?” Shadowheart asks, with feigned nonchalance that belies the steel in her grip.

“What do you mean?” You reply.

“You, and Gale.” Her hold tightens as you try to gently pull away. You can feel how much stronger she is than you.

How easily she could wrench your arm from its socket, if she so chose.

“We were just discussing next steps.” Your jaw is clenched as you smile. “It’s important we’re all on the same page, after all.”

“I see.” She tilts her head forward, exhaling slightly through her nose. Then she says, “I’d be careful with Gale. All wizards care about power, and there’s very little they won’t do to get it.”

You can’t help the small snort that escapes you. “I was hardly confiding in him. Besides, he’s as involved in this as we are. No harm in just talking.”

“So am I.” She holds up her free hand, as if to soothe you. “If we’re to survive, we need to trust each other.”

“Really.” You eye her hand on your arm. Pointedly.

“Yes, really.” Shadowheart breezes onward, “You seem reliable. I think you know how important it is that we find someone who can cure us. Best to focus on that.”

“Why, how bizarre!” You exclaim in mock astonishment. “Gale was just saying the exact same thing! It’s almost as though the others in this camp have the same priorities we do.”

She scowls at you, doing that odd little exhale again. “Just—! Mind who you associate with. It may come back to bite you, if you’re careless.”

“Fine. Now, if it pleases you,” You say in your most sickeningly sweet voice. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself to climb inside a tomb, curl into a little ball, and gibber my merry way into madness so that we can set out at first light in a timely manner. If I’ve your permission?”

Shadowheart’s lip curls but she lets your arm go, dismissing you with a toss of her braid as she makes her way back to her tent.

You pull a face at her back, then when you notice Astarion smirking at you, stick your tongue out at him too for good measure.

Finally, you heave open the door to the tiny antechamber you discovered earlier, pulling it shut behind you.

You spare a moment to go around the room, lighting the dust-covered torches.

Then you crouch down in a corner behind a sarcophagus, and try to scream into your hands as quietly as possible.

After a guilty two minutes of indulging in that luxury, you bite your tongue to force yourself silent.

That’s quite enough of that. You won’t get anywhere if you keep just reacting like you have so far, or let yourself get overwhelmed by it all. You need to get your brain to stop panicking and think.

Action over brooding.

It’s the only way you’ll survive.

Okay. So.

1. You have a mind flayer tadpole in your head.

2. You are trapped in a set of dark and musty ruins with three strange adults.

3. All of these adults, over the course of the short time you’ve known them, have shown a remarkable capacity for violence with very little provocation. They’re certainly more capable in combat than you, with your purloined crossbow and flute.

4. These strangers are all also implanted with a mind flayer tadpole, just like you. Though, you will admit, their survival and your own is…odd.

5. All the kidnapped thralls on that ship, many instantly killed in the crash, if not by the creepy little brains on legs after the fact. And yet you and these three adults somehow survive? How? Why you? Why them?

6. One of whom begged you to let her out of her pod, only to grow cold when she realized you weren’t alone. The other two who both admitted they were watching you as you tried to escape. If it’s a coincidence, it’s an odd one. But they all seemed to be as unknown to each other as they are to you. Unless they’re not?

7. They could all be in cahoots! And spies for the Order of the Companion or the Hellriders! You don’t know! You don’t know anything about these people!!

8. You can’t sleep because if you sleep one of them will try to kill you or the others or tie you up and use you in some creepy evil deity summoning ritual or send you back to Avernus again or they’ll turn into a mind flayer and suck out your brain or you’ll turn into a mind flayer and—

9. you can’t breathe

10. You can’t breathe.

11. You’re panicking too much. You can’t breathe. This is all a big fuss over nothing. You can’t breathe. Your thoughts are going into a corkscrew. You can’t breathe, you need to get ahold of yourself, you can’t breathe, you need to do something, you can’t breathe you need help you can’t breathe you need you can’t breathe you need—!

You lurch forward, seizing a discarded piece of masonry and dragging it into your lap.

You try to focus on the cold weight crushing your legs and stomach, try to recapture that distant memory of your heart slowing, of your mind clearing, of feeling safe.

Instead, you just feel like you’re hugging a rock as you struggle for air.

Alone.

You only drop off when your body finally succumbs to exhaustion.

Your sleep is fitful and brief, and you wake in the wee hours of the morning.

In the cold dark before dawn, you feel deep embarrassment at your histrionics last night.

So what if these adults could easily kill you? You used to manage violent thugs just like them on a daily basis. Just because you don’t have the shield of a desk doesn’t mean this has to be any different.

Hells, the fiasco that was the fight yesterday is proof enough none of them knew each other prior to this. So they’re likely to be as confused and panicked as you are. Maybe even more.

You can work with that. The Descent taught you that you excel under pressure, rallying disparate arseholes together around the common cause of ‘not dying horribly’.

And if they really are plotting together to capture you and return you to Elturel…

Well.

You now have an illithid tadpole in your head. You haven’t lived this long without learning how to leverage what little you’re given to your advantage.

First things first, you need to list the facts, set some actionable goals. Properly, this time.

First, escape this ruin. There was a locked door past all the trapped sarcophagi which might be promising if you can get to it. If you can’t disarm the traps, can you get around them somehow?

Second, find a healer/other specialist who can extract this parasite. Your alien warrior was adamant it could be done once you all reached the material plane. It’s up to you now to find out how.

Third, ensure the three violent adults don’t kill you, kill each other, or run off. They may be dangerous, but you’ve a much higher chance of surviving with them than without. Even if that means navigating the volatile group tensions that have already begun to spark.

Fourth, and only to be enacted once you’re all safely cured, is to extract yourself from these weirdos as swiftly as you can with the least amount of bad feeling possible. From there, you can make your way to Baldur’s Gate.

If you can meet up with the group of tiefling refugees you heard about on the way or once you’re in the city, so much the better.

Your original plans aren’t ruined. You’re still going to become a bard. You’re just taking a—a detour, is all. Yes.

You’re doing this.

You’ve got to.

Of course, to that end, you need to make sure they don’t abandon you at the next sign of trouble. Given that they seem to attract fights like vinegar attracts flies, you can admit that a noncombatant who isn’t even a bard yet is more of a hinderance than a help.

So you need to make yourself useful. If not liked, then tolerated. Someone who can give them all what they want most, or at least facilitate matters in their favor. Trade an attentive ear and problem-solving for protection.

Your journal is still in your pack, but you still have half a pot of ink and a quill that’s mostly intact. Once you stop to make camp again, it’ll be easy enough to dedicate three pages to your current companions’ quirks and preferences.

You’re already thinking of semi-discrete titles for each of them as you heave yourself up and stumble over to the door, limbs stiff from a night on the cobbles.

“Wizard of Waterdeep” is nice and alliterative, easy for you to associate with Gale. You deeply appreciate how easy he’s made it for you.

Astarion…hasn’t actually told you what his profession is yet, so until you can ask him and come up with something catchy, “The Pale Elf” will have to do.

Shadowheart…is tricker still. You know she’s a cleric, but you don’t know of what deity, or much else about her. “The Conniving Cleric” is far too heavy-handed. “Lady of Faith”, perhaps? Or maybe—?

“Wha’re you stomping ‘round for?!” Comes the grumpy voice from the tent of the woman in question as you poke your head around the door. “‘S dark. ‘S still night. ‘S sacred. Lemme sleep.”

You sidle out and back over to your pack as quietly as you can while whispering, “Sorry, sorry!”

There’s a grumpy noise and a muttered oath against you that you can only partially make out.

Fuck it.

“Daughter of Darkness” it is.

[britishassistant]

I just thought of something: since Eliza is supposedly based on the Bride character in "The Haunted Mansion" rides, wouldn't that mean she's somewhat essentially the same as MC/Yuu?

See, because MC/Yuu is a blank slate/canvas, they can be whatever the player/audience/reader imagine them to be.

Like, if the Multiverse exists, then MC/Yuu would be the only character to have different versions of themselves in each universe (Enma Yuuken, Hirasaka Yuuka, Kuroki Yuuya, Mito Yuuta, etc.)

The same goes for Eliza. She's based on the Bride in THM, but the game never specifies which version of the character.

Is she based on the Tokyo!Bride?

Or Constance Hatchaway from the American Disney Parks?

Or Melanie Ravenswood from Disneyland Paris' "Phantom Manor"?

Or previous iterations of the American Brides before Connie?

Like, think about it, if canon!Eliza is supposedly spoiled but ultimately harmless, then what about other versions of her?

Like, if she's based on Connie, then she would be a ruthless gold-digger who marries a wealthy man, then the moment she's done with him, she'll kill him. And then she'll find a new rich guy as her next prey. And so on and so forth.

Or if she's based on Melanie, then she'd be a tragic young woman doomed to be alone for eternity, never knowing the fate of her soon-to-be husband...

As a bonus, the previous iterations of the Bride before Constance & the Tokyo!Bride have no known backstories, so fans can come up with whatever they want. The possibilities are endless!!

I totally agree!

The trend in the Twst manga where they have a different Yuu for every episode is really good for that, which was partially the inspiration for my Twst X Neverafter drabble.

I like the idea that, like Yuu, Eliza is more of a cipher, someone that’s changeable compared to the rest of the characters in Twst, especially given that their origins aren’t as “solid” as some of the other folks inhabiting this Wonderland. Especially as she’s deceased, so there’s always a question of how much of herself she’s lost between her old life and now—a question that can fairly be applied to many Yuus as well!

Funnily enough, Ravenswood was a partial inspiration for my Yuu. Her mother’s family name is Karatsumori, which is changed from karasu no mori.

Which, of course, means Ravenswood.

(Karatsu is also part of the Saga prefecture in Japan.)

[britishassistant]

I saw clips from Hazbin Hotel, and thought Stayed Gone gave vibes of if Villianous Paranoiac Yuu ever returned to their world with new dark blot powers and decided to face their ex family.

I hope you know I had this song stuck in my head for a solid week after watching a clip of it.

And when Yuu returns to their world after their experiences in Twisted Wonderland?

They’re going to be a lot less scared of the threat of juvenile detention than they were before they went…

[britishassistant]

Will you be adding Fellow and Gidel in your supervillain au?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

And yes! They’re certainly kicking around in the supervillain AU, even if they’re being…careful about staying under the Night Raven’s radar.

Their “employer” has had the misfortune of being designated as as a perpetrator of non-villainous crimes, after all.

[britishassistant]

Me: Yes! My birthday falls on my day off! I get the chance to relax and work on my WIPs!

The cold virus hibernating until now: Nuh uh

Me, coughing: fym, ‘nuh uh’?!

[britishassistant]

Soooo..... These new soulmate posts, are they sneak peeks of what your're thinking for the soulmate method au?

Pls just this little has me so excited, I really liked the Riddle and Leona stories and I wanna see what else you cook for the overblot boys

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

And yes! These are all snippets of what I’ve been working on for the other six soulmate method AUs!

Azul’s has really been kicking my butt so far, I keep thinking of stuff to add on to Vil’s, plus I also have the “Suing for Character Defamation” AU and unanswered supervillain AU asks I wanna write for, not to mention all of the AUs of the Twst boys in Baldur’s Gate 3…

So yeah, I’m working on them! But man if I don’t understand the pain of so many WIPs, so little time…

[britishassistant]

If I may ask, what did Idia mean by "thaumaturgy" in your recent fic. Is it a play on words?

“Thaumaturgy” comes from the Greek thaûma and érgon which translates roughly to “miracle work(ing)”. It’s an old word that was used to describe how wizards, wise folk, or saints are meant to have the powers to do things mere mortals can’t, whether they come from divinity or not.

Given that Twisted Wonderland has magic our world doesn’t, I’m basically using the word as a catch-all term for their expanded “laws of physics”. i.e. their study of what magic is, what its limits are, how blot works, etc.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t even clock that the official English translation renamed “madol” to “thaumarks”, so good on you for catching it!

(It’s also a spell in DND that lets you perform a minor miracle for 1 minute. Like opening and shutting all the windows in a building for dramatic effect.)

[britishassistant]

Soul Searching (AKA Yuu’s really going through it)

Jamil:

Ahem.

Now that you’re more…lucid, let’s fill in some of the gaps, shall we?

So, your soulmate. Very pretty, but not exactly the bastion of kindness and charity he’d presented himself as.

No, turns out your soul can only find its match in the kind of man who will mind control you and keep you prisoner so he can engineer the symptoms of an overblot in order to become Dorm Head, only to overblot himself after you steal his magic pen and bring in the Octavinelle trio to try and keep him from mind controlling anyone else.

Vil:

“I didn’t know who could accept the food you and Kalim brought from Scarabia, so I decided to give it to Azul-senpai for Monstro Lounge instead.” You take no small amount of glee in informing Viper-senpai. “He gave me this present to give to you in return. Apparently it’s a good luck charm that will guarantee bad finances for our opponents.”

“I thought there were to be no curses under this roof,” Schoenheit-senpai mutters into his water.

“No curses from you or anyone else in the NRC tribe, senpai.” You correct. “If Azul-senpai or anyone else outside Ramshackle wants to give us their support, it would be rude to turn it down, right?”

“Aah, beauté!” Hunt-senpai proclaims. “The bond between soulmates, allowing them to work in unison and support one another in their endeavors…truly, this is pure beauté! A hundred points!”

You’re not entirely sure how Hunt-senpai worked out Azul-senpai and Viper-senpai were soulmates, but you can’t quite stifle your snickering when Viper-senpai drops his present back into the bag with a muttered, “Sure, that’s what this is.”

Idia:

You realize something then.

In all your time at Night Raven College, not once have you ever seen the dorm head of Ignihyde in person. His tablet, yes, but never the boy behind the screen.

Not until now, that is.

“Fuck off is that your hair color.” You blurt. “That’s. That’s amazing, what color even is that? It’s so bright.”

Idia Shroud is making an odd, slightly wheezing noise that’s rising in pitch the longer he stares at you.

Malleus:

“I’d rather be wrong and be thought of as a weirdo who gives bad advice about their soulmate than right and let Tsunotaro get hurt because I didn’t say anything.” You insist, fingers squeezing around your mug. “I just—! I need him to be okay.”

Oh.

Oh, Seven.

You do need that, don’t you?

The thought of him not being okay, of being in danger, of being exposed to the very things you’ve been fighting so hard for so long…it steals the air from your lungs. It makes you feel sick to the pit of your stomach. It makes your mind recoil from the very concept.

You feel all those things about Ace and Deuce and Grim and Jack, of course, how could you not, but they’re so much less intense than when you think about Tsunotaro, clumsy, oblivious, proud, sweet Tsunotaro getting in any way involved with an overblot. Not because your friends don’t matter to you, of course they do, of course, but—!

Oh Seven, you’re in love.

You’re in love with a man who isn’t your soulmate.

[britishassistant]

Soul Searching (Azul)

It’s different, this dreaming.

It’s soft rather than stark, not the vivid terror of the monster, but not the sensory deprivation you usually experience whenever you close your eyes. You can see, hear, feel things. Comprehensible things, understandable things, tinted by a haze of what must be memory.

You see miles upon miles of blue, dappled where sunlight pierces through far above and plays on the white sand below, colorful rocks and coral reefs breaking up the landscape.

Or rather, seascape.

A faint waft of warmth moves over your skin, ephemeral but somehow more solid than the breezes you’re accustomed to. An ocean current, flowing past your location.

There are far off cries and laughter, and you glimpse gleaming scales darting in and out of the coral.

You feel a strange, foreign longing to explore that place, to go and find out what more beauty it has to offer.

But you remain hidden, surrounded by curved ceramic walls throughout.

You wake up smiling.

It’s impossible. Incomprehensible. Here you are, in a world that’s nothing like your own, with a magic tanuki flopped over your chest and snoring, with less than nothing to your name.

And yet, you’ve found your soulmate. You’ve met them. You’re seeing their dreams.

And, you realize, smile slipping off your face as Grim the tanuki gives a yawn and plants a foot right in your solar plexus, you have absolutely no idea who they are.

They have to be someone you met yesterday, but you were paraded in front of a crowd of at least four hundred people, if not more. Finding out who they are will be like searching for a needle in an entire countryside of harvested grain.

And that’s not even getting into the issue of what will happen to the pair of you when you find a way back to your world.

It’s that thought which bolsters your resolve more than anything. You can’t look for your soulmate, just to abandon them when it comes time for you to head back. For all you know, you’ll be gone by the end of the week.

And yet…

Your soulmate dreams of a world under the sea when they sleep.

You tuck that small kernel of information close to your heart as you shove the tanuki off you and go to pull on the itchy-new, school-branded clothes the headmaster provided for your new job as janitor.