it’s so lovely that chilchuck is both the girls’ bedtime stuffed teddy bear & he just puts up with it because he’s a girl dad first and a moody rogue second

The dark urge and young lady Orin

jjk react to you "maxing" their Credit card as a joke ;))

ft. Inumaki, Satoru, Suguru, Itadori, Nanami, megumi & toji!

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO this was so fun to do 😭😭

i never should have bought this game now youre all going to suffer for it

i’m not here to claim that wyll doesn’t deserve more extra content or that larian’s perspective of him isn’t rooted in racism in any way whatsoever. however, i sincerely believe that it’s always important to list the facts first before misinformation continues to spread which only results in more needless outrage.

these are all of wyll’s scenes that exist in the game as of now:

meeting karlach, mizora, and his transformation, the tiefling party kiss, the dance scene, mizora visiting camp, another scene where mizora visits camp, and the proposal scene. additionally, mizora and uldred can join camp, if he is alive.

in strict comparison - this is the exact amount of scenes the other origin characters have:

source: [x]

wyll is lacking one scene compared to characters like shadowheart and gale. lae’zel merely has another non-standard dialogue scene, while astarion has double the amount of possible romance scenes and 9 scenes in total.

here is a video of wyll’s entire story: [x] at a duration of 2:25:24 in total it’s very similar in length to the romances of the other companions the same channel uploaded. (minthara & halsin excluded)

i have also seen many people refer to the datamined voicelines as proof of how much content wyll lacks. this, however, doesn’t tell us much since those compilations include battle grunts, noises, and other repeated lines. if you want to check them out for yourself, here is chubblot’s playlist on youtube: [x]

wyll’s romance/approval-specific greetings also exist, they are merely bugged. although i have heard that some people have been able to trigger them. bugged content is something that also affects other companions – in fact, most of gale’s romance scenes and some integral dialogue have been bugged for months now with no fixes anywhere in sight. if you don’t want to look for wyll’s greetings in the files, i took the liberty of doing it for you:

alas, his general reactivity after act i remains the same as with the others. aka: he's barely responsive to his surroundings nor to any key decisions the player makes.

wyll also isn’t the only character who isn’t able to make his own choice on whether he agrees to sell his soul for his father’s life or not. in fact, the only characters who can decide their own fate are shadowheart and lae’zel. the latter option only now being added with patch 6.

so what exactly did wyll get after patch 6? the same amount of kisses like everyone else: 4 in total. as well as some new idle animations and polished facial expressions. the kiss where he invites tav for a quick twirl had already been added in an earlier update (patch 5, 30th november 2023). which means it’s understandable that certain characters who didn’t receive any new animations or other content before were now added with patch 6 as well.

wyll’s quest regarding ansur also didn’t get removed from the game. this is plain false. larian merely changed the subcategory in the journal (which larian had done previously with astarion’s gur-related quest as well)

if you have a gripe with this particular decision: that is valid. the quest, however, is still the exact same as it was before.

i see fandom heading in this really dangerous direction where people fully believe they have the right to attack others for pointing out the existence of false information. i understand that people are upset about wyll having less content than characters like astarion and i am in no way here to claim that you should refrain from calling out racism where it’s due. however, this hostile behavior directed at anyone who dares to disagree with you is creating a really toxic environment within online spaces, where people hesitate to engage with the wyll side of the fandom at all (out of fear of immediately receiving the racist card for merely correcting inconsistencies in logic). and in case it needs to be said again: it is never justified to harass real people or send death threats to others under any circumstances, much less if it concerns a fictional character.

i, much like everyone, really want wyll to receive more love from fandom and larian alike. but it is no one’s place to police other players on how they should engage with this specific character in their own game. if others simply couldn’t connect to wyll as much as you personally have – for whatever reason – that is on them. it's them who are missing out. this shouldn’t hinder your enjoyment of this character in any way or discourage you from creating more fan content.

TL;DR: it’s completely valid to request more wyll content, but please don’t resort to “demands” or public pressure directed at the devs. this is only doing more harm in the long run (to wyll’s, as well as his fanbase's reputation within the rest of the fandom instead of actually accomplishing much). don’t spread misinformation that he’s the only one of the companions who is continuously receiving the short end of the stick in terms of content, general reactivity, and bug fixes. if anything, the biggest difference is between him and astarion (again, much like every other companion).

🙏 please be respectful to each other 🙏

The blades pact

the Limbus experience

Maybe it is because I am An Old, but so much Baldur’s Gate 3 discourse sounds like people arguing over how to play with a dollhouse.

And I think that’s because we’re not used to video games where WE write the story. So when options we don’t like are added, or we see people choose one thing over another, it feels like those things become canon.

But they don’t. It’s a dollhouse.

Some people want to do a wedding with their tiny teddy bears.

Some people want their Barbies to fight to the death in ritual combat.

Some people want Thanos to put on an apron and take care of babies.

Some people want to make all the dolls kiss naked and have a doll orgy.

You can be a superhero and save everyone, or a cruel god who demands murder and sacrifice.

(Have you seen little kids play with dolls? Absolutely vicious stuff.)

The whole point is that you can play however you want, and make what stories you want.

Yes, it’s frustrating that some toys don’t have as many accessories, or that other people make your favorite doll do weird shit that you hate.

And I DO think media analysis has a role here. We should be aware of content and biases, just like we are with what kids get representation with toys and dolls.

And obviously we get attached to them! They become our comfort objects, and it can feel like a personal attack when someone hurts them.

But YOUR characters are still yours. Everyone gets their own set here. No one is stealing your Astarion doll and giving him a terrible haircut, no one is throwing your Gale action figure out the window to see if he flies. Those are other people’s toys.

Yours are safe and right where you left them. It’ll be okay.

The dollhouse is for everyone.

for wonderful @akilah12902 who listens to me screaming from the depths of the sewer maze (i did find my way out in the end)

MC Falling Asleep on M6's Lap (Baewatch)

It's been a hot minute since I posted anything and, unfortunately, I don't have the brain power to do any new content. But I figured I would post a headcanon from my old blog. Someone had requested this a long time ago and I loved writing it. The idea was so cute! I love the Baewatch tale and the bonfire scene at the end is so fun. So, here you go! Also, updated my banners just to try out something new :)

Prompt (240)

“So, what are your symptoms?” The hero’s doctor asked.

“Heart palpitations, sweating, stomachaches. My body just goes berserk whenever I see them,” the hero said.

The doctor rolled their eyes. They were getting sick of heroes falling for their villains and blaming it on an illness.

It was insulting really, that Hero's heart could flutter so easily over someone trying to stab them, kill them, utterly destroy them, but never over the tight wrap of a bandage, a neat row of stitches, or a cold compress to a fevered face. If Medic went totally mad, incapacitated them with mystery drugs, used their scalpel and surgical scissors too liberally, and turned healing into torture, would Hero notice them? Or was it the thrill of the forbidden that motivated their thousand-and-one criminal infatuations? Maybe Medic just needed to defect to the other side, and Hero, a creature of habit, would sneak into the villain's base for attendance to their wounds, the building tension of possible discovery driving them into Medic's open arms.

Medic snipped the end of the surgical thread and, setting the tools aside, ran a gloved hand down the seam of the once gaping wound.

"Perhaps it was a result of having a massive hook driven into your shoulder and dragged down to the middle of your back."

The hero had practically fallen into their office tonight, gushing blood and rambling on about being unwell these last few weeks. Unwell. As if a ten-inch laceration were simply a scratch and not a life-threatening injury. Yet, as Medic staunched the bleeding, cleaned the wound, numbed the area, and started stitches, their "ailment" was all they would talk about.

Hero waved them off, pushing themselves upright with a light wince. "No, it was before that."

Medic gritted their teeth. "And after?"

"Um, about the same."

Of course. Of course, being physically harmed wouldn't faze them. If Hero were theirs, they'd spoil them rotten. They'd kiss every bruise, tend every wound, fill them up with hot meals and love and gentle affirmations, and most importantly, they'd never, ever, ever hurt them. But Hero did not love them. Hero loved villains. And Medic simply did not have it in them to be one. Not even the domestic kind. Which meant they would stay quiet. They wouldn't force impossible feelings or bother Hero with the discomfort of hearing their own. They'd be...friends.

Medic pulled off their gloves and tossed them in the trash. "I want to keep you overnight."

"What? But I'm fine! The symptoms only really happen around Villain, so--"

"Stop trying to sell me trash, Hero, you almost died!"

Hero froze.

"I don't care about your "sickness" or your fixation on villains or the weird anxiety ritual we go through every time you fall for someone new and you pretend to be star-crossed. I care about you, staying alive."

For a moment, the idiot only stared, wide-eyed and slackjawed, mouth struggling to find words before finally settling on, "I-Iam not falling for Villain."

"Excuse me for assuming. The symptoms just seemed a little similar to the ones you had when you liked Scarlet Jackal and The Wanderer and Nightfish and Swan and Moonsable and--"

"You're being mean!" Hero cried, one part furious, two parts shocked.

"I'm being honest. If you want to see Villain again, do it, but wait a night. Wait until you're stable. Don't put your feelings above your health. You're real health."

Medic wasn't sure when they'd closed the gap between them, but suddenly they were gripping Hero by their bare shoulders and staring down into their shocked and teary face. They fought the urge to brush away a tear.

The crimefighter felt stiff and hard in their hands, but all at once, their muscles loosened, and Hero folded forward, burying their face in their hands.

"You always knew?" they mumbled through their fingers.

Medic slid their hands away and dropped back into their chair, looking at the floor. "You...aren't very subtle. ...I actually didn't know it was supposed to be a secret.

Hero groaned. "Well, that's embarrassing. I sort of thought I was being clever. Venting without telling anyone."

"You, clever?” Medic said sarcastically. As soon as it was out of their mouth, they regretted it. Hero groaned again, and Medic reached out a hand, stopping just short of touching their head. “Sorry, that was mean. I didn’t mean to— I’m just mad. I’m just…worried.” They swallowed hard. “You really like Villain?”

“I’m supposed to meet up with them at midnight,” Hero confirmed.

“But you’re injured.”

“I’ve done it before.”

Medic shouldn’t have been surprised, but the statement still made their insides recoil. “Why?”

Hero peeked up at them.

"Why Villain?” Medic repeated more firmly. “Why always the people who hurt you?"

Hero paused for a long moment, staring blankly past Medic’s shoulder, as if the words were written small on the wall and they could gather a response if they managed to make them out. "Because they see me,” they finally said. “Not as the city's perfect hero but as a person. Imperfect. Fake. Weak. They already don't expect anything from me, so there's no reason to put up a front.” Maybe Medic had a disapproving look about them because Hero hurriedly continued, “Also, when you're that up close and personal with someone, even at knifepoint—especially at knifepoint—adrenaline rushing, heart pounding, it starts to feel like you're the only two in the world. And you sort of…connect.”

“Someone shouldn’t have to hurt you to connect with you. And plenty of people don’t see you as an infallible god. Why not go for one of them for a change?”

“I can’t control who I get feelings for,” Hero said.

“No, but you can decide who’s bad for you and move on.”

“It’ll be another villain, Medic, I guarantee. You say plenty of people don’t expect perfection from me, but name one.”

“Me!” It burst out before Medic could stop it, all the anger and hurt and pining they’d been carrying these years pouring into that one word.

Hero scoffed, apparently oblivious to the raw feelings pitched toward them. “Yeah, but you don’t have feelings for me.”

The tears sprang to Medic’s eyes involuntarily. They blinked them away voice, and controlled their vocal cords, ensuring the next word came out without the previous wild emotion. “Ok.”

Hero frowned at them. "What sort of answer is that?”

"Ok. If you say I don’t have feelings, then I don’t have feelings. Let’s stop arguing.”

“If I say—” Hero blinked a few times, and Medic gripped the ends of their lab coat tightly in their lap. “Medic, do you have feelings for me?”

No, this was supposed to be a secret. This was supposed to be their problem, not Hero’s.

“Medic?” Hero prompted.

“It doesn’t matter! You only like villains!”

Hero’s eyes widened. “How long?”

“Years! Always! I don’t know! We don’t have to talk about it! I didn’t say any of that because I want you to choose me; I just want you to choose anyone else! Anyone who will treat you well! I care about you too much to see you come in broken and bruised by the hands of the same people you pour your heart into!”

Hero’s hand landed gently on Medic’s shoulders. They shouldn’t be standing so soon after losing so much blood, but Medic didn’t have the energy to tell them to sit back down. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would it put that on you? Like I said, you only date villains! I didn’t want you to feel guilty, or start avoiding me just because I’m not your type and I made you feel weird!” Oh gosh, the tears had returned full force, and they were streaming. They wiped brusquely at their face. “Sorry, sorry, you’ll be late. You should go.”

“I’m not just leaving you like this!” Hero cried, now wiping at Medic’s tears too. “And what happened to staying overnight for my health?”

“You don’t have to feel bad for me. I always knew we weren’t going to end up together. I wouldn’t want to be around me either right now.” They took in a deep sniffly breath. “Maybe…maybe if you did leave, just go home though. Not because I want to stop you from seeing Villain—though I don’t think you should—but because you really shouldn’t be up and about so soon.”

Hero chuckled. “My goodness, you’re stubborn. Even when you let me win, you’re telling me what to do.”

“I’m not trying to—”

Hero cut them off with a kiss to their forehead.

Medic’s whole brain shut down. No words, no pushback, no reciprocation. All they could was stare with their mouth open wide.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Hero said.

Medic’s tongue felt glued to the roof of their mouth, but they fought it into action.

“S-so you’ll stay?” they said, unsure whether that was good or not, but unable to swallow the hopeful feeling rising in their chest. Even if that hope was just that Hero would have a night of recovery before throwing themselves back into danger. “You don’t have to go see Villain?”

“Of course, I’ll stay. You’re my doctor after all. I believe in your opinion more than my own.”

Medic frowned. Something about that didn’t sound totally professional. “You’re not going to force yourself to like me just because I like you, are you?

“We could maybe try?”

Medic sighed and rubbed the growing headache in their sinuses—they hated crying. “You don’t like me, Hero.”

“I don’t not like you. It just…never occurred to me.” Then quickly, as if a little embarrassed, “I’m definitely attracted to you. I know being attracted isn’t the same as feelings, but maybe now that I’m in that mindset, the feelings will come. I’m not saying we full out date, but you know, maybe we go out a couple times. See what happens?”

Medic’s face warmed. Bad idea. Bad. Idea. Medic wasn’t going to be able to go back if Hero treated them special, even for just a day. But…they’d also wanted it so badly for so long…

“Just a couple dates,” they muttered. “And you tell me the truth if you don’t feel anything. No lies for my sake.”

Hero raised their hand in the air. “On my honor.”

Villain stood, ignoring the growing daze in their head. “I’ll show you to the overnight wing.”

“Tuck me in?”

Medic’s heart stuttered, but they kept their voice calm. “Flirting already?”

“I’m nothing if not proactive.”

“I think you mean provocative.”

Hero gave a little amused snort, and Medic tried not to smile. Instead, as they reached the overnight wing and helped Hero into bed, they tentatively said, “Should I give Villain a call? Tell them you’re bound by medical authority?”

“No…you were right…I probably shouldn’t be romanticizing someone who stabbed me without a second thought… I’ll tell them myself when I see them next.” They yawned wide. “I’m actually glad…someone like you…likes someone like…”

They drifted off mid sentence, the exhaustion of the fight, blood loss, and conversation catching up to them.

Medic stroked the hair out of their face, but quickly caught themself, drawing their hand in a fist against their chest. “You’re going to cause me so much trouble. But…I’m glad too.”

Master Taglist:

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"Well, don't you just look like a fresh summer's day."

The hero picked their head up from the table, levelling a disbelieving glare at the villain. "There are a million other crappy diners you could be in right now."

"This one has the best coffee and pancakes."

The hero wondered if it would be over if they dropped their head back down.

The villain sauntered over to the counter, flashing a smile at the twenty-something taking orders, who had the audacity to perk up at one in the damn morning. The villain then had the even greater audacity to slide smoothly into the hero's booth, circling an arm around the hero's shoulders.

The hero turned their head, slowly, in the villain's direction.

The villain did not take the hint. They did a terrible wink with a clicking noise.

The hero considered starting a fight. They considered leaving. They dropped their head back on the table again.

"My," the villain said. "Now this is actually sad." Their hand withdrew. They kicked the hero's shin. "You okay?"

The hero laughed.

"Talk to me. I can hostage this whole place."

"Then you wouldn't keep getting your coffee and pancakes."

"Mm. True." In an instant, the villain's hand tightened in the hero's hair, yanking their head back.

"Hey - ow -"

"Talk. To. Me." The villain's voice was deadly against the hero's ear. "I don't like feeling concerned. I'd like to be back to wanting to kill you by the time my pancakes arrive."

"Chocolate chip or maple bacon?"

The villain's grip tightened, warning.

It was so stupid.

"I'm just - let go, alright? You're causing a scene. I like it here. Don't cause a scene, it's awkward."

The villain's head tilted, but they let go. The previous playful smile was back on their face, but they did shift so they were facing the hero on the other side of the booth. They made a show of a listening posture, head cupped in both hands.

The hero's jaw clenched. "I'm just tired."

"Poor baby."

"You asked."

"I'm being sympathetic."

"I hate you."

"Cling to that emotion. I was worried for a second there that you were getting depressed."

"You know, I was in here first. I feel like that means I get dibs. Are you done being concerned? I think I prefer you murderous."

"You know." The villain beamed at the server as they set down a steaming mug of coffee and a stack of pancakes smothered in banana and caramel. The smile dropped the second they speared their gaze back on the hero. "I really wish I was." They shoved the plate at the hero. "You've got far too skinny. Eat."

The hero stared.

They couldn't quite muster the energy to move. To do anything.

"Eat."

The hero ate the pancakes.

"I'm aware I have an invested interest in this...but have you considered taking a break?"

They were standing outside the diner. The night was the kind that smelled full of possibility, dark and full of twinkling lights, with a hint of cold crisp. The hero was warm and full of pancakes, caramel still sweet upon their tongue and sticky on their lips.

They looked at the villain.

The villain looked back. They were, apparently, not joking.

The hero laughed because it had to be a joke. "I'm too busy to take a break."

"Mm."

"I mean," the hero said, "I feel you are partly to blame. You're very diligent in your evil doing."

"And the fact that's solely your problem?"

"I have power."

"Everyone has power of a sort. If people hated me so much, they'd back you up, and you wouldn't be burnt out to kindling."

The hero didn't know what to say to that.

Honestly, if it was only the villain, it could have been fine. But it wasn't. It was everything, all the time. A barrage, and the hero was drowning.

"Thank you for the pancakes," they said, eventually. "It was sweet of you."

The villain, predictably, pulled a face and seemed like they wanted to deck the hero for saying even that much. If the villain was sweet, after all, it was sweetness in the ways of cyanide or decay. Sweetness like too much sugar in tea to mask the taste of something bitter. Artificial.

"Just get better, okay?" It was phrased as a demand. Maybe, even, an order. There was no concession in the villain's tone. They would have the hero back to normal, everything else be damned.

It was sick, and twisted, but for the first time in what felt like a long time, the hero felt themselves smile.

"Seriously," the villain said. "I won't take a break to enable you, because I think you'd find another excuse to keep at it, but you need boundaries in this line of work. You need something to live for, or what else is left?"

"You?"

It felt more of a taunt than a concession, and the villain's eyes narrowed accordingly. They wrapped their scarf a little tighter around their neck and busied themselves with the business of buttons.

"Go home and sleep, hero. You're no good to anyone like this - if that's what you care about. Put your own oxygen mask on before anyone else's."

"It's that easy?"

"I didn't say it was easy, but we all need air." The villain's gaze swept over again, pausing on the hero's lips. They reached out, swiping away a sugar, but seemed just as ready to dig their nails in too. "I don't need another version of me roaming about."

"That would be dreadful."

"Dreadfully fabulous and so, you see."

The hero studied the villain for a moment. They wondered if the villain was tired, or if they'd pitched right beyond that to not caring. The villain never acted like they were exhausted with the world, they were always ready to fight, ready to be vicious, ready to shove pancakes across a diner table with a smile and a ready threat.

"Go home," the villain said. "The next time I come across you that vulnerable, that exposed, I'm turning you into pancake toppings. You owe me and all."

"Yeah. Maybe I do."

The villain frowned, at that. They opened their mouth, closed it, then gripped the hero's chin hard. "Stop having a death wish. It doesn't make killing you fun. I'd have to go for your friends to get a reaction, and no one wants that."

The hero laughed, airless, though it was true.

The villain shoved them back hard.

"My home is that way," the hero said. "Opposite direction."

"I can't be the only thing you have left." The villain's voice was flat, jarring, and the hero's laugh (however airless) died in their throat. "That's not what anyone wants. Go home."

And, for a second time that night, the hero obeyed.

The only problem was, that for all of their tiredness, there was no sleep or nothing to be done once they got there. In the end, they looked up pancake recipes; banana, caramel, and a drizzle of unexpected kinda kindness, and let that feel just a like hope.