#A b and e are up there too

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Based on yugioh, can you draw Joey Wheeler as a full grown man please? You can design how he looks and what job hed have

Not a dramatic change but I think he would be a good e-clown so he'd probably be a streamer

[shima-draws]

God gives his toughest battles (being at work DESPERATELY wanting nothing more than to be at home playing the new Genshin Fontaine update) to his bravest soldiers (me)

[chrliekclly]

charden is v important to me bcuz they recognize their traumas n each othr...

[butwhatifidothis]

Still baffled that Hopes so blatantly wrote Claude as the typical Evil Vaguely Middle Eastern Man set on destroying the Good White Nation for his Evil Vaguely Middle Eastern Nation that is often seen in fantasy settings - complete with him being seen as worse than a white woman who does many of the same evil deeds he does in-verse, even by his friends (should it be the bad ending route of SB) - and so many in the fandom were so eager to gobble that shit up. INSIST that "Clearly A Racist Stereotype" is LEAGUES better than "Subversion Of A Racist Stereotype" even. Like I don't think I'll ever get over how supremely fucked that is

[snackugaki]

do you survive an apocalypse because you’re shaped like a dorito chip?

or does surviving an apocalypse shape you into a dorito chip?

something to ponder

[plantaagomaajor]

Only Friends hierarchy of needs

(and then they need to end up together in the most mutually unhinged and codependent relationship possible a la HIStory 1: Obsessed)

[exceptional-z]

Giving birth to a zombie is extremely traumatic to your body. The pregnancies are difficult, the birth is violent due to the feral nature of zombies in their natural state, and they receive next to no medical aid. It’s why so many zombies are raised by single fathers, why those who are lucky enough to still have their mom around are usually only children. To survive one pregnancy is rare enough, but a second zombie pregnancy is honestly testing fate at that point.

Zed’s mother died giving birth to Zoey. It’s all she’s ever known, though it’s not as hard on her when most of her zombie friends have similar family dynamics. At least in that way she’s not the odd one out. Zed did know his mom, he’d been old enough to understand what was happening when she started to get sicker and sicker as the pregnancy progressed. He refused to eat or speak for days after his dad had come home from the hospital alone with Zoey in his arms, without the woman who’d raised him, who was so kind and beautiful and genuine.

When Addison told him she was pregnant, he nearly threw up from the sudden, intense fear that surged over him like a tidal wave, threatening to knock him over. The memories came rushing back, memories he tried so hard not to think about. But this time it was Addison instead of his mom. In his nightmares, he watched her body grow skinnier as the zombie baby drained the life from her, stole her nutrients, kicked at her until she couldn’t keep anything down. He’d heard horror stories from others with similar experiences as his own, other zombies who were old enough to remember the loss of their mother.

He had never spoken to Addison about his mom before, but he couldn’t exactly keep it from her when she looked at him with such worry in her eyes, like she thought he was upset with her rather than angry at the world for making such unfair situations. So he opened up, cried into her arms as he described his feelings in detail that he’d never told anyone, not even his dad, not even Eliza.

“I won’t leave you,” Addison promised, “I’ll fight even if it seems impossible. I told you that someday we would have our happily ever after and no one can take that from us.”

[curiosity-killed]

that post-work crash nap

[ALT ID: A digital illustration of two people napping on top of each other on a wicker chaise.]

[bthump]

I don’t think the ending of lost children is saying that people like Jill should stay with their abusers or that it’s noble to suffer I think it’s just making the point that there isn’t a paradise where you will never suffer, as it seemed that Jill tried to leave with Guts as a form of escapism thinking her problems would disappear if she did, like rosine did with the sacrifice. Yeah it’s still not that great and it doesn’t reflect well on guts either when he could’ve just brought her to Godo and had him look after her or something. Though the narrative does frame it as though guts made the “right” choice, basically tough love and making her stronger or whatever. And there was the idea that the demons haunting him at nightfall would be too dangerous for her anyway.

Enh I'll admit that Jill's naivete is a detail that makes Jill's decision to stay work strictly on a character level. Sure, Jill is frightened off by ghosts and decides to stick with the devil she knows, I'll totally buy that.

But yeah like you go on to mention, the narrative framing it as the right choice is the real problem here for me. I doubt Miura intended to flat-out say that abused kids should just deal with it, but it's effectively what the narrative says consistently throughout the Lost Children arc, from putting the Peekaf 'you'll regret leaving home' story in the arc about child abuse to Rosine's regret and longing for home as she dies to Jill deciding it's best for her to stay with her abusive parents and just struggle and cry her way through it.

Also maybe worth noting that plot-wise Jill's decision doesn't actually fit the larger narrative of Berserk. This is probably accidental lol, due to being a serialized story, but think about it: she decides to stay with her family because it's dangerous elsewhere too. Well, what happens a year later when her village is leveled by dragons because Griffith genre shifted the story to high fantasy? It's a hell of a lot safer to be traveling with Guts than it is to be an ordinary villager during the Fantasia arc lol.

So yeah. ia that staying with her abusive family makes sense for Jill on a character level, but it's the way the themes of the Lost Children arc seem to support that decision that bothers me, and I don't think it really works on a plot level either, taking the later story into account.

Thanks for the ask!

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

do you think leonardo or comte is older? i can’t remember it being specified but i’m not sure. i mean we have leonardo’s age but how old is comte??? i haven’t played comte’s route so idk if cybird mentioned it or made one up but his real historical birthday/place was pretty much unknown i think??? thoughts?

I always thought Comte was the older of the two? But to be honest I was never sure if that was just my bias talking or it was actually the case. So naturally, because I am So Normal, I did a little digging through all the stories I've read up to this point to see if there were any concrete indicators. The most promising lead I was able to find was from the "Tell Me Your Story" collection event.

Meta under the cut, since I was left unsupervised and it got long:

The contents that are most pertinent to what I have to say are as follows:

In this story, Comte speaks a little bit about his childhood because MC found him playing the violin. He talks about how he originally trained as a young boy on an instrument called "a rebec." Mind you, Comte says that he still has the first one he ever bought--he remembers because he acquired it the day he was told he would stop aging forever. In due course he takes it out to show her--and later plays for her, at her request.

Now, looking at all the facts. The violin was said to be introduced between 1540 and 1560, roughly speaking (I'm not a historian, this is all based on rudimentary research). This doesn't tell us too much though, as Comte does say the instrument he trained on and first purchased was much older. Many sources show the rebec dating back as early as the 10th century (meaning anywhere from 900-1000) in Spanish courts, a supposed mashup of the Arabic rebab and the Eastern European lira. The clearest written records (the few that exist) begin from the early 12th century and on, though it was at the height of its popularity towards the 15th/16th century.

Aside from the fact that that's fuckin crazy, that would place Comte as being born anywhere from 900-1100 (1200-1500 at the very latest). Now I know what you may be thinking. How the hell does that narrow anything down, Minnie?

Given the cultural implications surrounding the rebec's emergence, the context actually does allow certain tentative conclusions to be drawn. I've seen indications that musical talent with a rebec was considered a big deal as an indicator of wealth/higher status in the earlier years of that time frame. Taking Comte's childhood into account--that he was raised to effuse aristocratic breeding and poise--I think that makes it highly unlikely he was learning when it was most associated with street performers (during the latter portion of my posited time frame). Everything about Comte's family pretty much screams old money (aka wealth they were born into, not curated during the rise of the mercantile class trying to be posers), so I really can't see them raising their son to play commoner music.

Another very telling bit lies in the phrasing of how he found the instrument: "he discovered the old rebec among other goods from a foreign trader." Remember that in the latter end of the time frame, it was so commonplace it could probably be found among local vendors/craftsmen--there would be no need for them to be imported from foreigners. I imagine his family only had access to the instruments in accordance with their social standing; naturally the rich would have their connections, but not just anybody would have the money or means to get their hands on one.

If my beginner's dive isn't too far off the mark, that would make Comte anywhere between approximately 400-1000 years old. I get this hunch that he's probably somewhere in the middle, I just don't know where exactly. I wish I had a better estimation since that's a pretty huge range, but considering the lifespan of the rebec it's hard to tell.

The only great anachronism in all this is the existence of Comte's pocket watch which was gifted to him by his tutor (I believe that's what she was, I know it was one of the human people in his house when he was young). The first pocket watch is said to have been created in Germany in 1510 (and shortly after distributed in Italy), but honestly it feels a bit out of place compared to all of the other evidence available to us. If that's the case, then Comte could have been born in the 1490s (since he received it when he was like 12, somewhere around there). Honestly I do feel the game suggests that he's older than that, so there's some dissonance there. But I leave that up to personal interpretation, since I'm not 100% sure about it either.

Lowkey, I feel like they might have gone so hard with the timepiece imagery for Comte that they forgot the historical practicalities attached to them, so that's half the reason I don't know what to do with this information. I get that vibe of like something something rich people cop out, unless purebloods have weirdly long childhoods--

Leonardo I don't have as many receipts because I'm just a poor Comte stan trying to live (his collection stories are pain), but if we go by the indication that his in-game life loosely follows the historical figure and simply continues on with his faked death, that means he was likely born somewhere around 1452. I can't remember super clearly, but for whatever reason my only memory of age indicators for Leonardo was around 400 or so (which tracks with that interpretation). That would actually make him potentially younger than Comte, younger than I initially anticipated. Or, if Comte was born on the latter end of my estimations, they are at the very least close in age.

Also please don't hesitate to let me know if I'm missing any receipts on Leonardo, I have only one brain cell and she is trying so hard, my friends

As to the place of Comte's birth I haven't the slightest clue about that. It's pretty obvious he's of European ancestry, but as to where he was born/raised exactly, it's difficult to tell. Given all the talk of the rebec there's a decent likelihood he originates from the Mediterranean area/Southern Europe, as it is an Arabic instrument by origin that was adapted into something new by Spain. (This could mean he was born anywhere between France, Spain, Italy, or even the countries a little further up or closer to the Middle East.)

I considered Northern Europe/England, but honestly the evidence doesn't really seem to lean in that direction. Comte mentioned that he once lived in England and made friends there, but the way he talks about makes it sound like he was a visitor/traveler, not a native. And frankly, Comte isn't insufferable enough to be English lmao, he has a conscience. There is actually some tentative evidence for Irish descent, as the vampy mind persuasion/compulsion is termed "geas" in the game, which is a word that stems from Irish gaelic/folklore. The only reason I don't think there's a real connection is that there's no further evidence tying Comte to Ireland; and I don't think the etymology necessarily guarantees ancestry (though there is something to be said about the Irish gothic and vampiric origins).

Admittedly it feels like the game makes his nationality vague on purpose, and I think this has a two-part intention. The first is that historically he was shrouded in a great deal of mystery, so it only makes sense they would be reluctant to name a singular place. The second is that--and I don't remember where the screenshot is, I saw it a while ago--the game describes him as belonging to no one place (that he belonged to all and none). Keeping his character construction in mind, I feel like this aligns with his general theme of contradiction. He's a greater vampire who prefers to keep company among humans, he's a powerful being with a fragile/sensitive heart, he has strong convictions but hesitates constantly, he's able to blend in almost everywhere he goes but never truly feels like he belongs. It would only make sense, narratively speaking, to keep with that motif/trend.

Also quick aside, because I can't help the music nerd in me. Rebecs are bitchin?????? Holy shit slay. Fun fact: they appear to have been primarily used for festivities, played for dancing. That gives a whole new impression to the fact that he bought one the moment he found out he would never age any further. I guess I just think about how that's a pretty joyous purpose for the music (beyond the pedigree aspect). That he clung to this specific artifact as a way to remind himself of his connection to humanity, that it was about people gathering and enjoying each other's company (and yet at the same time, all the political games that come with such leisure)...what a reflection of who he is today. I think it's fascinating how much people are at the heart of his personal motivations and feelings, considering how easy it is for purebloods to become lone wolves (power and secrecy would lend itself to that.) Instead, Comte chooses to hide in plain sight and actively works to stay engaged in the times and among the population. Then again, if I were hundreds of years old I would probably also beg for a distraction from the encroaching madness so like ajkhslgfkjhfslakjh it's very sweet but also mood...

In short:

Thank you for the ask, lovely!! 💛💛💛💛 I hope this answers your question? I love any excuse to talk about my one and only 👀💍

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Day 8: Mountain/Chains

Prompt List

Pt. 6 of The Empire of Samadhi AU

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 (you are here) | Pt. 7 (coming sometime...)

(This is day 8 of the Monkie Destiny Challenge Prompt Month October 2023)

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: Red Son is the son of an old empire, Mei is the daughter of a new one. Red Son, consumed by fire, was put into an induced stasis sleep to stop the world from burning until his family can find a way to safely remove the fire. They find a way but he never wakes up. Hundreds of years later he awakes to discover his power resides within another as she stares at him with wide eyes on fire.

Split.

They reached the mountain at daybreak. 

It wasn’t massive but it still counted as a mountain, albeit a small one. There were seals and spells lining the caverns on the inside of it, if nothing much had changed since Red Son had last visited the place. It was a little out of their way and put them a good half a day behind schedule to reach, but the mortals were insistent. Much to Red Son’s frustration. 

Why they were taking this detour was simple. 

Liú. 

That little puppet Mk had tucked into his sash comfortably that morning, with his little puppet arms and face free of the fabric. He’d spent a needlessly long amount of time making sure he was comfortable, not being crushed. No matter how many times Red Son told him he likely couldn’t feel it, Mk wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Just in case,” he had said that morning. “He might be conscious. It would be boring to look at the inside of a pocket all day.” 

No matter how much Red Son scoffed at it, Mei chimed in that she thought it was a good idea so that was the end of it, and he could do nothing to convince him otherwise. 

They were idiotic fools. 

They were weird. 

They chatted with the puppet all the way too, and on the way up the mountain, in-between complaints of sore feet and burning muscles from their upward decent. Red Son had to listen to their aggravating recap and their ‘Sifu Samadhi, he might look scary but he’s a softy,’ all the way up the mountain. 

Red Son was not a softy. 

He was going to kill them both the moment he had the fire just to prove that. 

“He can’t hear you,” Red Son tried to tell them for the thousandth time.  

“Maybe he can,” Mei said, sticking out her tongue like she did every time she replied. 

Truly they were idiotic. 

He had no doubt if Liú really was conscious as a little puppet, he would have rather been shoved into a pocket than listen to their whining. At least then the sounds would be muffled. 

“Are we there yet?” Mei groaned. “We've been walking for ages.” 

“Two hours,” Red Son said through gritted teeth, “is not ages.” 

“It's dark out,” Mk complained, “I want to sleep.” 

Red Son took a moment to breathe. If he pushed either of them off the mountain now he might never get his fire. “This little detour is costing us precious time. The sooner we reach the top the better. Unless you’d rather take a nap and watch the world burn from this vantage point?” 

That at least shut them up for a while. Then there was nothing but annoyed noises and huffing and puffing. 

Honestly they held up better than expected. Despite their complaining they were keeping up with Red Son’s, what would be considered, brutal pace for mortals. 

They reached the top before sunrise. 

Luckily the big open surface carved out remained which meant they wouldn’t need to clear anything. The last time Red Son had been here, there had been monuments and structures and even green life everywhere. He didn’t acknowledge the blackened empty state of it.

Red Son drew the circle in the ash and dirt himself, since he didn’t trust either of them to know what they were doing. It didn’t take very long, but it was long enough for Mei to complain again. Red Son ignored her. He scratched the letters into the dirt then snatched some of his fire from the rings and lit the spell. The fire filled the grooves quickly until every bit of lettering was illuminated. 

“Now,” he said, dusting his hands off and turning to Mei. “First things first. This is going to cause quite a commotion in the middle of nowhere. Without any life disguising my power, we might as well be sending an invitation to that thing to come find us. So.” He stepped over to one of the edges of the flat space, purposefully not too far away from the circle, but not close enough to mess with the spell. “This is our escape route. If he comes, stand here, and it will take us out of here in a more permanent teleportation than I can currently provide.” 

“Cool,” Mei said. “Where does it go?” 

“Let me worry about that,” Red Son said, crossing his arms. “Now the spell. Not that I care but keep in mind that if you lose control at any point during the ritual, he will undoubtedly die.” 

“What?” said Mk, shielding the puppet with his hand. 

“No pressure or anything,” Mei muttered. She frowned at the spell. 

“Hurry up, we don’t have all day,” Red Son snapped. 

“You can do this, Mei,” Mk said. “I know you can.” 

That made her crack a smile. They were both so strange. “Thanks Mk.” She seemed to brighten just a little bit. “Alright, let's do this.” She got into position and planted her feet. 

Mk hurried forward and placed the puppet in the middle of the circle, gently brushing ash from the spot so there was a clear spot to place it down. He then scurried out of the ring, cursing as the hem of his hanfu caught fire. He stamped it out, giving a big bright smile when Red Son glared at him. 

Mei took a breath, closing her eyes. She placed the palms of her hands together in a meditative movement, then her eyes snapped open and she stared with intense focus at the puppet on the ground. “Ready.”  

Red Son nodded. He lifted his hand, breathed and released the puppet from the seal. 

It was an awful twisting, crumpling moment, then there the puppet stood at its full size. Its one eye blinked. 

“Now!” Red Son yelled. 

Fire exploded over them. 

Red Son thought just in time to yank Mk behind him to shield him from it. Red Son planted his feet, nearly slipping from the force of it. 

“A bit of overkill,” he said through gritted teeth as he held the fire at bay. She likely didn’t hear him mutter it over the roar of the flames. That had been his intention. He wasn’t stupid enough to interrupt her focus on purpose. 

The puppet cowered, shielding its face, but its feet remained glued to the ground, trapped by the spell. The flames washed over it. It wailed. 

“Ignore it!” Red Son yelled to Mei before she could hesitate or ask. “Continue the ritual!” 

The fire burned through layers of the curse. 

“It's working!” Mk spoke like he could see it which was absurd. 

Chains flickered into view. They connected to the puppets wrists and ankles, long and icy and blue. Deep churning gray ones wrapped around the rest of him as though they were holding him together. Those chains were much thinner and weaker than the blue, but both could be handled just fine. One part possession, one part curse. The seals on the chains lit up with light, exposed by the fire. 

The fire flickered green. Red Son grit his teeth and said nothing. 

“You almost got him! Keep going!” Mk yelled. 

“I… am…” Mei grunted, straining and pushing the fire at the puppet, trying to keep it aimed at him. Some of it lashed out to the side, dangerously close to Mk. 

“Focus, Dragon Girl,” Red Son barked. 

“Both of you zip it!” Mei snapped back. “Stop yelling at me-” 

One of the chains cracked. 

“Keep going, you're doing it!” Mk cheered.  

“I asked for quiet please!” 

The puppets' eyes flickered from empty to wide and pained and human. The puppet-like designs on its skin seemed to start to burn off. Its screaming was muffled by the fire. 

“This is really hard!” Mei yelled. 

“Of course it is!” Red Son yelled back. “Keep going!” 

A chain snapped. 

“You’re doing it, Mei! You’re doing it!” 

“Yeah!” Mei cheered. Her power surged and pressed firmer against the curse. 

Red Son hadn’t sensed anything, perhaps due to the massive surge of power in front of him. But quite unexpectedly he exhaled and his breath was visible, even with the flames in front of him. 

He snapped his head up to look at the sky to find frosty clouds looming above them and closing in. The air behind where the fire was not was growing cold.

Red Son hadn’t felt him coming. 

They needed to leave. Now. 

“Dragon girl! Stop the fire! We need to go-!” 

He landed a short distance away at the edge of the space and the mountain shook with the impact. 

Red Son stumbled, on his feet, some of the fire escaping past him and over to Mk. 

The fire vanished. 

“Mk, grab Liú,” Mei barked. If Red Son wasn’t distracted he might have been proud of her authoritative voice, clearly reminiscent of his own. 

Mk jumped into action and ran forward, jumping over rocks. He scooped the puppet off the ground, and bolted back to Red Son. 

The figure that filled Red Son with such dread started forward. 

The fire blasted into existence again, all of it focused on the possessed creature. 

“Leave it! We need to go!” Red Son yelled. He and Mk were already standing in the escape route, they just needed Mei. 

Chains flickered. 

Red Son realized that his uncle was walking into the circle they’d made for the puppet. 

Chains, white freezing chains, thin and thick, wrapping around every limb, tight around every movement. There looked to be hundreds of them, some of them thicker than some tree trunks Red Son had seen, and only getting bigger, as they stretched out of sight. They wrapped around his wrists, his arms, his ankles, his legs, his tail, his throat, his torso, his head. 

Every single chain link from big to small had a seal on it. 

The horror that Red Son felt choked him for a moment. 

“Wait!” Mei yelled. “Do you see that? Maybe I can-” 

“YOU CAN’T!” Red Son roared. “LEAVE IT, MEI.”

He could see her hesitate. It was a split second of her really truly considering… Then she growled. With a frustrated yell, she hurled as much fire as she could at their pursuer before she abandoned the circle and sprinted towards where Red Son and Mk stood. 

“Hurry!” Mk held out his arm to her. “He’s right behind you!” 

Mei didn’t glance back, she just launched herself forward, leaping at them. 

Red Son slammed his hand onto the ground on top of the spell to activate it seeing her trajectory. He didn’t pray that he’d timed it right, he knew he had. 

That was the moment that everything went wrong. 

Mei was jerked backward, the Possessed catching the back of her hanfu. 

Mk lunged out of the circle and tackled him.

Mei was catapulted forward and bowled into Red Son, knocking him off his feet and partially out of the spell. 

The possessed moved forward, Mei lunged for Mk, the spell activated just as she touched him and the mountaintop exploded. 

The impact of Red Son hitting the ground face-first nearly knocked him out. It left him dizzy and disoriented for a moment. 

He pushed himself up and staggered to his feet. 

He looked for Mei first, expecting her to be a short distance away, buried by rubble or fighting his uncle, but very suddenly realized several things: 

He wasn’t atop the mountain any longer. He was beside a running river, surrounded by trees. It was damp, not as dry, there was no ash or flame to be found.

He couldn’t feel the warmth of his fire at all, which meant it was no longer in close proximity with him.

His uncle, Mei and Mk were nowhere to be found. 

His fire was gone. 

Red Son punched a tree, splitting a fist-shaped hole into the wood. 

Then he wordlessly screamed at the sky for more than a few reasons but mainly because that had really hurt. 

Imbeciles.

| beginning | next (coming...sometime...) |

[noa-de-cajou]

Me : I'm adhd therefore I am disabled

My adhd : *Disables me*

Me :

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

No but something I love is how fucking loyal Miklan really is (in Hopes specifically since we don't have enough information in Houses).

At the camp, he takes his job seriously. Very seriously. He doesn't act begrudging or like he's just doing anything by force. As the chapters go on he not only goes from relatively aloof to a full fledged commander (which is great development in that span of chapters btw considering how fast the story has to progress) and one who fights for Faerghus because he wants to (why would he reassure the player that he's going to, literally, hold down the fort? Why doesn't he flee when his life is in immediate danger despite that Dimtiri prefers his allies to flee and save their lives over sacrificing themselves? Why does he like helping citizens who had their lands destroyed by the war, despite being a bandit who used to plunge towns just like those?).

At any time when the Empire was attacking, he could've surrendered and even joined their side because of not liking Faerghus and its people... if he didn't like Faerghus and its people. Also, someone brought this up to me once that Miklan likely has family in the Empire still, because his mother was from the Empire. He had a perfectly good out that wouldn't even necessarily be considered treason to Faerghus, i.e. surrendering and going to the Empire to protect that side of his family.

He doesn't. He dies for Faerghus. It was both a matter of honor due to the fact that he was finally living the life he always should've been and wanted to be respected for that, and also his loyalty that followed in the past's wrongs being righted. No matter what you think of Miklan post disinheritance, he was the heir who was removed because he didn't have a Crest. All over just that, despite that Sylvain having a Crest never meant they didn't still have someone capable of fighting off Sreng invasions.

They had someone able to wield the Lance of Ruin, so why did it matter if he was officially the heir? Miklan felt like his life was stolen from him (and I'm not saying what he did to Sylvain was okay either). Dimitri gave him all of that back and he started to become loyal to Faerghus and its king because Dimitri was giving the chance even the man's own father never gave him from the moment Sylvain was determined to have a Crest.

What happened in his life before Dimitri had him brought to him as soon as he became king is, in a way, almost like it never happened as far as Miklan's behavior. It was obviously there at first, but over time it's like it never happened. That is, if someone met him and didn't know about his past, by chapter 9 they'd never even know he'd had that history. He was the person he would've been years ago if he hadn't been disinherited, which led to the mess that led to him being disowned (and he says he just "left", but Matthias doesn't mince facts. At all. If that had been the case he wouldn't just say he disowned him. He would admit Miklan ran away. That means Miklan claims he left as a means of coping and trying to convince other people that it was his choice and not forced on him).

Miklan became a lot more loyal than he's ever given credit for, both in the game and in the fandom. Gwendal did recognize it, but that's about all we're given.

Gwendal corrected himself when Miklan died, referring to him instead as Sir Miklan instead of the insults he was spewing during their fight which were very clearly pissing Miklan off; but Miklan kept fighting and defending the fort, not just because he wanted to prove Gwendal wrong but because he was here because he was pulled out of his life as a bandit. The people he was defending the fort for were the people who effectively gave him his life back.

Basically, he would've been there in that fort defending it anyway if he had lived the life he should have to begin with. If his value was acknowledged all along, he would've been defending the most important fort in Faerghus all along (if this exact scenario occurred and everything was the same except him being disowned in the first place). He would be there being the commander and fighter he was supposed to be.

Mind you, it was the king himself who gave him that chance, meaning the person who reigns over Faerghus and has the most power to change whatever the hell he wants - including how people with Crests and without are treated. Miklan was part of a fight to better their society and be part of the new generation taking over. Nobody could truly change things unless the king - the top power - had the thought to change them (not saying Lambert thought the political climate was good the way it was, but he clearly had other priorities and it didn't seem to be something weighing on his mind. He may not have even truly noticed the problems and power discrepancies because he was so focused on other things).

However, the moment the king thought to change all that old stuff, Miklan was one of the first people who came to mind, and one of the first people he took action regarding, to integrate into his new army (and he even mentioned completely rearranging his army and whatnot, and then we find out he had Miklan located basically right after becoming king. We had a two year timeskip and Miklan had been there for those two years because of how soon after Dimitri was crowned that he had decided to bring Miklan back and give him another chance).

If the king sought to change things and was taking active action to prove it, that was something Miklan could see and realize was actually going to happen. It wasn't a blind trust - he could see Dimitri was actually doing it. He had a reason to be able to trust him with this.

He was also able to trust the people who were watching over him, i.e. the people Dimitri had making sure he didn't revert back to any sort of banditry. Those people could have easily faked it, made up that he did something and that they had killed him on the spot. Dimitri trusted those people not to do that of course, but those people were not told to bring him to Dimitri if he did anything. They were told to apprehend him and kill him immediately (which is reasonable, given what he'd done in the past, and they wouldn't want to try to wait to get Dimitri over to wherever they were. If Miklan escaped in that time, they'd just have a big problem on their hands).

So that is to say, those people could've just faked it at any point and killed him. They didn't. They, like Dimitri, were willing to give him another chance provided he didn't do anything bad.

The same goes for Felix and everyone else who had qualms about him being allowed into their army. Dimitri explicitly stated if anyone had issues with his appointment as a commander to "by all means" kill him themselves. He literally made it an open option for his friends to just up and kill him if they truly couldn't forgive him (which at that point was more reasonable of a time because the war was still new and people didn't know if they could trust him with this specific appointment yet. By later in the story I don't think it would have been as reasonable for someone to try to kill him after he'd already been proving himself).

In other words, nobody did it. Everyone, literally everyone, backed off and respected Dimitri's decision (and technically Sylvain and Matthias' as well). None of those people, even when given open opportunity, turned a weapon on him. Not one. These people all gave him a chance. These are the same people he died fighting for, and for himself to be able to feel like he was fighting and dying for what he would have to begin with if he hadn't been disinherited - Faerghus and its people.

In the end Miklan was in both rank and heart a top ranking commander of Faerghus and he both appreciated it and knew he appreciated it. He was looking forward to the future Dimitri would bring, basically saying that he thinks Dimitri is a fool ("weak-willed") for it but that he now believes in it too. If anyone wants to try arguing those points, I have receipts as the young folk call them, fresh from Miklan himself about his feelings about it as spoken to Catherine and Shamir!

Miklan fought for the future he was hoping to see, and he died protecting that future. Again, not something he by any means whatsoever had to do. He was tasked with guarding the fortress, but was never told to lay down his life defending it. After years and years of being hateful and angry, he finally had some peace of mind and hope for what he could be. He was loyal to Dimitri in the end because Dimitri was loyal to him - that is, he kept his word and Miklan was able to thrive in Dimitri's society without being a bandit or having to worry about his future because of his status.

Like Dimitri said, the only thing holding him down by that point were his past mistakes. It was up to Miklan to do something about that for himself with the opportunity he was given to fix it. Dimitri said here, fix it, and Miklan said okay, and worked to fix it. For me the saddest part is that he didn't even get enough time to properly fix it and be able to be free of his past. He died for Faerghus though, with his dying words being that he was able to buy them time (to arrive and fight back against the attacking Empire). That's not something someone who holds a resentful grudge would say in their last moments. He was grateful he managed to buy the other fighters time, even though it cost him his life.

hopes was a dumpster fire a whole lot of times but its incorporation of miklan into the plot was not one of them. miklan fire emblem my love you will live on in my heart and in my fics. i am also deeply grateful to hopes for uh i guess hopes-canonizing (hopesonizing???) basically every one of my headcanons about him before the game came out.

[gutsfics]

it would be so iconic of pb to let us decide if we want to end Crimes of Passion still dating Trystan or not

like id love it if we're allowed to decide if Rose and Trystan end up in different places emotionally and while they do love each other it's best for both of them if they break up

[nguyenfinity]

Originally it was just gonna be Rinne but then I realized what shirt I was wearing today so. Have Rinniki in the outfits I've worn this week--

[criscura]

I want to get to the good part of this blastvoid thing I'm writing but i do NOT want to write the part before it and I'm procrastinating so fucking hard

Like i know what i want and it'll be satisfying but it's like the reverse of eating beef jerky, where this is the tough gross part you just need to swallow before getting to the fucking SPPIUCCE