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the-broken-pen · 4 months

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I love your blog so so much, everything you write is amazing, idk if reqs are open, if they arent, im sorry and feel free to ignore, but could i request a second part of that prompt you wrote where the villain poisons their little sibling hero w/o knowing its them, i just loved that prompt and how you wrote it SO SO much, i think i must have read it about 20 times just these last few days, you can make the second part however you want, sad ending, happy ending, its up to you!!! thank you a lot

Part One (Thank you so much Anon!)

The villain hated hospitals. There was always the threat of exposure—the promise of a fixed wound never meant just stitches. Inevitably, it meant the police.

But really, the villain hated hospitals because they had almost watched their sibling die in one, three years old and a stomach full of cleaning products. They had sworn their sibling would never, ever get hurt again.

Now here they were. Watching the painful rise and fall of their sibling’s chest, oxygen mask hissing alongside the beeping of a heart monitor.

The villain scrubbed a hand over their face, covering their mouth.

Their sibling—the hero—was so small. So pale. And it was their fault.

The villain was going to vomit.

The heart monitor stuttered, and the villain snapped their eyes to the bed. The hero blinked back at them, clammy and bleary eyed.

The hero blinked at them once, before clumsily dragging their oxygen mask off their face.

“You need that,” the villain said gently. The hero eyed the mask with distaste, before dropping it beside them.

“Okay.” But they didn’t pick it up. Their eyes dragged around the room, not quite conscious yet—before landing back on the villain. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

The hero’s brow wrinkled, then eased.

“I don’t feel bad?”

The villain laughed slightly. Their chest panged. “Yeah, that’s the morphine. They have you on the good stuff.”

The hero frowned.

Absently, one of their hands reached for their IV, and the villain caught it, settling it back by their side before they could rip it out.

“You’re an obstinate little thing, aren’t you,” but it was fond.

Their sibling grinned at them, and god, how had the villain not known? The hero had smiled at them, that exact smile, hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. And somehow, they hadn’t stopped to think it looked familiar. They hadn’t questioned that they had the same power.

They hadn’t bothered to wonder if the hero they were fighting was their younger sibling.

How many times had they hurt their sibling and not known?

“You love me anyways.”

The villain’s throat tightened.

“Yeah,” They choked a bit. “Yeah, I do.”

The hero frowned at them again.

“Are you okay?”

The villain cleared their throat. “Of course. It’s you who isn’t.”

The TV on the wall switched to a news segment, and they both watched with detachment as the reporter discussed the political climate surrounding powered people. The hero fidgeted slightly as they aired clips of the two of them fighting.

If their sibling didn’t remember anything about last night—

“The hero always loses,” the villain said slowly. They waited for the hero to look at them. “Why do you think that is?”

The hero bit their lip, anxiety creeping around the fog of pain medication.

“Because they’re weaker, I would think.”

The villain tipped their head a bit. “I don’t know about that. They always hold their own.”

Their sibling shrugged one shoulder, trying for casuality and failing. “Heroics and all that. Busy. Maybe the agency has orders…?” They trailed off, and oh, wasn’t that a terrible thought? Their sibling being ground into dust in the machine of the government.

“They never catch the villain, either,” the villain pressed. One of the hero’s hands squeezed into their blanket.

They stared at each other. The heart monitor beeped. Someone called for a code blue.

“You never catch me.” It was little more than a whisper, but the villain knew their sibling caught it. The hero went still, a deer in headlights.

It was almost like the villain could see them remembering the night before—the gala, the poison. Their big sibling, hurting them.

But they didn’t look at the villain with fear.

“No,” the hero said, and it was the firmest the villain had ever heard their sibling. “I don’t.”

Something began to burn in their gut.

“What were you thinking?” The villain hissed. The hero stared, stony eyed. Their lip quivered, just slightly.

“I was thinking that I love you too much to watch you die on the news.”

The villain jerked a hand through their hair, pacing to the other end of the room. The door snapped shut with a flick of shadow, the curtains following suit.

“You’re sixteen,” the villain snapped. The hero was fighting off tears, pressing their lips together like they were trying to hold in a sob. The villain had seen them do hundreds of times over the years.

“And you’re all I have left.”

The villain forgot how to breathe. Their sibling was trembling, just slightly.

“I’d never leave you,” the villain promised, voice cracking.

The dam broke, and a tear slipped down the hero’s cheek.

“But what if the only part of you left to stay is your ghost? I don’t—I can’t-“

And then their little sibling was sobbing. The villain tucked them into their arms between one second and the next, cradling them against their chest.

“It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” the villain carded a hand through the hero’s hair. “I won’t.”

Their sibling was too young for this.

The villain was too young for this, too.

Being a villain paid the bills—but was it worth it?

The hero sobbed again, and the villain knew.

No.

It wasn’t worth it. How could anything ever be worth hurting their sibling?

It wasn’t worth their sibling almost dying, it wasn’t worth the heart ache, it wasn’t worth the pain.

But it was worth a month’s rent. It was worth school supplies and food on the table. It was worth a life.

Maybe not theirs—no, theirs was ruined already.

It was worth their sibling’s.

That was what mattered.

The nausea was back, deep in the villain’s stomach.

“Stop fighting me.”

The words stung on the way out, cutting the villain’s tongue. The hero jerked out of their arms as if scalded.

“What?” Their voice was rough with tears.

The villain swallowed, and it took everything in them to keep their face blank.

“Stop playing hero. You’re going to end up dead.”

If the villain couldn’t hear the heart monitor beeping, they would have thought their sibling’s heart had stalled in their chest.

“It won’t happen again,” they fisted their hands into the blanket.

“You’re right,” the villain agreed, and it hurt. “It won’t.”

The hero gaped at them.

“You don’t get to do this—“

“I do.”

“Stop it,” their sibling hissed. “Let me talk, I just want—“

“I want you alive.”

The hero went silent.

“And I want you happy, and warm, and well fed, because I love you, and it is my job.”

“Isn’t me being a hero to protect you the same thing? It’s love, not hatred or stupidity, can’t you see that?”

The villain could. They could see all of it. They could see their sibling, just a younger version of themself, desperate to keep their last loved one safe. They could see their sibling, helping the city because they cared too much with a too big heart.

They could see their sibling choking on poison, hunched over a toilet.

“I can’t let you keep fighting me.” The villain held the hero’s gaze. “I won’t, do you hear me?”

Their sibling was crying again, silently, chest heaving.

“I’ll fight you anyways,” but it was weak, and they both knew it.

The villain gave them a long look.

“You’re going to let the nurses help you. You’re going to get better. And then we’re going to go home, and you’re going to go to school, and I’m going to pay the bills, and put money on the table, and you’re going to pretend you don’t know how.”

The hero let out a shuddering breath, jerking their eyes away. Their jaw clenched.

“Do you hear me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hero.”

“Yes,” they sobbed. “Yes, I hear you. Yes, I’ll watch you die and bleed out and I’ll do my math homework and pretend I don’t know why there’s blood stains in the bathroom.”

The villain wished they had been shot. It would have hurt less than this.

“Good.”

The hero shot them one last, desperate look. Like they had expected the last bit to mean something. Like they had hoped it would. Like they had needed it to.

Their sibling was just shy of hyperventilating when the villain tucked their oxygen mask back over their face. They brushed a piece of the hero’s sweat soaked hair out of their face, softening their eyes a fraction.

“I love you.”

The hero just blinked at them as the villain slid off the bed, tucking the blankets back around them.

The villain hesitated, just barely, at the door.

“Don’t—Don’t do this,” their sibling was crying again, voice wet with tears as they shook. Like the villain had grabbed something within them and broken it, something vital, and their sibling no longer knew how to be still. “Please don’t do this.”

Whatever they said next was a mangled sob.

“I love you,” the villain repeated forcefully, more weight on those three words than they had ever put on them. Maybe, when the hero was older and the villain didn’t need to commit crimes to keep them afloat, when there was no danger for their sibling, they would tell them they hadn’t wanted this either.

They would tell them they had wanted them to be a hero.

They would tell them they were sorry.

But for now, the villain said nothing. The door clicked shut behind them like an oath.

The villain managed to make it all the way down the hallway before they started sobbing too.

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fishysaltine · 7 months

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(Please read the whole post and maybe my thoughts will form into coherency)

Hopefully I don’t get flack for this and word this correctly:

But I love Wyll’s story, just not his character direction, if that makes sense? (I’m still setting up to romance him tho) he had SUCH good setup for being a really nuanced character among the cast that we have and I think that’s partly due to all of the content he got cut from his story

Can you imagine how much people would crawl over Wyll if he was mother gothel’d? If he totally leaned into Mizora after ten years of isolation? ESPECIALLY AFTER BEING SCORNED BY HIS FATHER?? Bro was 17(?) and impressionable as fuck after a traumatic experience

Also I understand Wyll’s like “my dad had every right to exile me! Mizora covered her tracks!” But you can understand why someone hurt you and be pissed off and doesn’t mean that you have no right to be upset. I’D be upset if my parent left me (a literal child in this situation) in charge of protecting a whole city, then shunned me after I made the only decision that would make sure I could fulfill my city and make them proud! Wyll’s dad literally turned his back on his own son just like that, little to no questions asked, and Wyll has no?? Resentment? AT ALL?? HUH

(Imagine, pray tell, Mizora telling a young, impressionable Wyll that his father must have never truly loved him if he was willing to get rid of him so easily? Wyll hoping that his father would one day forgive him only to lose hope and return to Mizora once more??? You’re telling me that wouldn’t make the lads and ladies swoon?! Especially after learning that Wyll was a total daddy’s boy??)

And the TAV/PC had to go through the slow burn of proving to Wyll that she’s the bitch she is and is only using him? Or push him further into his mindset that Mizora cares for him, even if she hurts him? And Mizora slowly growing more and more desperate to keep her claws in him if you start pulling him away? Until the final thing she does in act 3- it would be so much more powerful and less than a “GOTCHA!”

You don’t even have to make Wyll neutral or evil! He just thinks Mizora has his best interests at heart (when she obvi doesn’t to anyone but him, as if the case with abusive relationships) The first crack would obviously be Karlach, since even Wyll states that Mizora never sent him to hunt tiefling’s, and he literally would’ve killed Karlach if TAV/PC wasn’t there (or the tadpoles) and it would’ve been so heart breaking and interesting for him to be the goodest boy with such a bad person as his “bestie”, all because of the manipulation and abuse she puts him through to keep his expectations and even self esteem low, pushed further by turning him into a DEMON.

(Judging by his dialogue I genuinely wonder if Larian intended for Wyll to have an arc like this, because it would fit a lot better into the general theme of breaking abuse cycles that the game pushes so hard. Especially from the interaction you can have with him at the tiefling party when he *ahem* ISOLATES HIMSELF FROM OTHERS)

A change in how he reacts to his trauma and abuse would’ve set him more apart too, since pretty much everyone except for Shart and Lae’zel aren’t particularly big fans of their abusers (except Gale, but I wouldn’t say he totally embraced Mystra at the time we meet, and if you romance him he throws her to wall p fast). And his abuser isn’t religious at all, it’s more personal since Mizora is literally right in his ear, it’s much more personal ig?

It also would’ve really pushed his thematic parallel to Karlach who H A T ES the devil who forced her into servitude. Can u imagine if she met Wyll, and he’s like “yeah Mizora’s the ONLY ONE looking out for me! ☝️She helps me protect the sword coast! She’s my HOMIE!” She would be so angry and sad for him, because his desperation for connection drove him to connect with a BITCH of a devil

Mizora is just the cookie-cutter narcissist abuser, she isolates her victim and makes (Wyll) rely on only her. It’s honestly more confusing that Wyll isn’t more with her, that he rejects her so vehemently after a decade with essentially only her at his side. I legit don’t understand why Wyll and Mizora weren’t dialed up to 10+ like all the other companions and their abusers are

Anyway these are my sad, slightly disappointed thoughts on Wyll, I just wish he had a lot more content in general but also his own personal journey throughout the game, but maybe it will change when I romance him

#baldurs gate wyll #baldurs gate 3 #Wyll thoughts #obviously there’s… other reasons he isn’t loved as much #but these are my personal thoughts on him #his story is great #but his character is a bit lacking when his trauma comes into play #make it HURT #let Wyll be mad he deserves jt #and a kiss #mizora bg3 #shitting on Mizora hour #and Wyll’s dad #let Wyll be a little bitter 2024 #bg3 wyll #karlach #karlach bg3

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