#glenn close fic

[hopelessromance21]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

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「 DISCLAMER: 」

ᴛᴡ: ᴄᴀʀ ᴄʀᴀsʜ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɢʀɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅʀᴜɢs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴡᴇᴇᴅ, ᴏɴᴇ (𝟷) sᴡᴇᴀʀ

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛs/ɴᴇxᴛ ᴏғ ᴋɪɴ ɪɴ ᴀ ғɪʀsᴛ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴᴅᴇʀ/ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,074

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It's 5:23 PM. The tv plays faintly in the living room, white noise that falls into the subconscious of those in the room. The small, 2 bedroom apartment is utterly silent aside from this.

On the couch lies a man and his son, both sleeping in comfort with the warmth of the other. Father and son, bearing similar resemblance with their shaggy black hair and charming features, are clothed in their pajamas.

Glenn Close is a 30-something father and husband. His home and life is humble, with the father just starting up his Christmas Cover band; The Glenn Close Trio. Between the Christmas Season, he gets by, working as a DJ for weddings and other events.

He barely begins to stir, shaggy black hair draped over his eyes and obscuring his vision. He’s starting to grow it out, for the so-called “Rocker look” he feels will do well on stage. At the moment, is it in the awkward stages of its growth, but he still sports it well.

Opening his eyes, Glenn raises one hand to brush away his hair, his chest rising and falling in a yawning sigh. On his chest, he feels the small weight stir. His other hand remains on his son’s back; Nicholas, sleeping soundly.

The father and son fell asleep around an hour ago, while enjoying a lazy Sunday watching the Disney channel. Nick rested comfortably on his fathers chest, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat.

Glenn smiles with parental love for his child. Only seven years old, bringing both calm and chaos into Glenn’s life. Filling his life with a love and purpose he never thought he could find.

Feeling the need to awaken his tired limbs, Glenn carefully lifts Nick up— he is a heavy sleeper, always has been— and lays his son on the couch, a pillow under his head.

In his very plain pajamas, simply a band t-shirt and sweats, Glenn raises his arms up in a stretch, groaning quietly at the effort. He sluggishly shuffles to the bathroom down the hall.

He notes the silence of the apartment while he uses the toilet— he knows his wife, Morgan, left an hour and a half ago to run to the store, but he expected her to be back by now. The store is only a 15 minute drive, and she only needed a few things.

Leaving the bathroom, Glenn takes a quick peek across the hall into his shared room. Empty, and silent. He also looks into Nick’s room, just for the sake of looking. Again, nothing.

The man scratches his stomach lazily, stepping out of the short hallway. He crosses the living room, making an effort to keep light-footed, letting his son nap undisturbed. He steps into the kitchen, the space separated from the living room only by the countertop and rickety dining room table.

He finds the remote phone idling where it was last left on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, he dials his wife’s number, the set of digits memorized years ago.

The phone rings in his ear as the call is sent out, and Glenn waits calmly for Morgan to answer. As the sound drones in his ear, he pops open the fridge, peering inside at the meager leftovers. He grabs the little bit of orange juice left, taking a swig from the container.

“Hey, this is Morgan. I can’t get to the phone right now, I’ll call you back when I can. Later!”

Glenn pouts half-heartedly as the recorded voice of his wife answers his call. He glances at the time on the stove as the phone beeps and waits for him to input a message. Nearly 5:30

“Hey babe, uh, I was just wondering where you’re at. Me ‘n Nicky here are missin’ ya. Lemme know when you’re heading home, m‘kay? Love you.”

Satisfied with his message, Glenn hangs up the phone. As he lowers his hand to return the device to the countertop, it rings in his hand, startling him with the abruptness.

He answers, clearing his throat subtly.

“Y’ello?”

“Is this a Mr. Close?”

“Mhm. Who’s this?”

“This is Officer Foster. Mr. Close, I’m calling about your wife, Morgan Close.”

Glenn feels a pit of dread begin to form in his gut. He shrugs it off, swallowing the sudden lump that forms in his throat.

“It’s- its uh, Morgan Freeman-Close, actually…”

“.. Mrs. Freeman-Close was in an accident, Mr. Close… A head-on collision.”

“...”

“She was dead on arrival, sir.”

Glenn’s free hand grips the edge of the countertop, his mind dizzy and his legs turning to jelly. His balance wavers, as if someone pulled the ground out from under him. There’s a horrible nausea in his gut, climbing up his chest.

The phone clatters out of his hands, onto the countertop and into the empty sink. He can hear the faint, polite apologies of the Officer. Meaningless condolences as Glenn’s world crashes around him.

She’s dead. She’s dead. He saw her just this morning and now… she’s gone.

Glenn crumbles, leaning over the countertop, throat choked with tears. His hand cradles his face as a sob leaves his mouth, soft and muffled.

“... Daddy?”

The soft, sleepy voice of Nick awakens Glenn from his grief.

Oh God- Nick…

Glenn wipes his eyes that were wet with tears. He swallows hard.

Nick lost his mother. All he had now was… him.

Turning to his son, Glenn forces a smile, looking down at the sleepy boy. He’s clothed in a plain blue pajama set, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his little fist. His hair, similar to Glenn’s in shade and texture, is messy and laying flat on one side of his head.

Kneeling to be level with his son, Glenn affectionately ruffles Nick’s hair. His son smiles at him and yawns.

“Hey- hey bud,” Glenn speaks with a voice that initially croaks, before he clears his throat to right his vocal chords. “Hey, uh… you want pizza for dinner? Pizza an-and.. ice cream! Yeah, does that sound good?”

Nicholas, unaware of the turmoil his father is silently going through, visibly brightens with excitement at his suggestion. “Yeah! Pizza and ice cream!”

“Alright, yeah!” Glenn inwardly grimaces as he smiles down at his son. “You, uh, put something on to watch, I’ll call for a pizza and… and ask Mrs. Reed to watch you while I run to the convenience store to get the ice cream.”

“Okay!” Nick beams up at his dad, running back to the living room.

Sitting in front of the entertainment system, Nick opens the doors to the multitude of movies inside, picking from the Disney content Glenn had amassed.

In the kitchen, Glenn’s hands shake subtly as he types in the Papa John’s number and orders a pizza. His eyes grow blurred and wet as he slips on his shoes and a jacket. His throat becomes tense and sore with building tears as he knocks on their neighbors door and employs her help.

He keeps it together for the rest of the night. He thanks Mrs. Reed when he returns with two pints of ice cream. He pays the pizza guy with a good tip. He gives Nick dinner, and the two watch Disney movies on the couch. He pretends everything is fine, and watches Nick look around curiously, wondering where Morgan is.

As Glenn puts Nick to bed, his resolve is tested. His son looks up at him with a thoughtful expression as his father puts the storybook away.

“Daddy, where’s Momma?”

Glenn’s movements stutter, sliding the book back into its place on the bookshelf. He glances at Nicholas, mustering a smile that has weakened through the hours.

“She, uh.. she had to go somewhere… she isn’t gonna… u-um..”

Glenn swallows, absently holding Nick’s teddy bear in his hands.

“Let’s uh.. I’ll explain it all tomorrow, okay? I’m beat, and you’ve got school tomorrow.”

Nick stares up at his dad, his head sinking into the softness of his pillow. He nods, beginning to suspect everything isn’t as good as Glenn tries to make it seem.

Glenn smiles down at him, passing his hand over the curls of hair that fall over Nick’s forehead. “Okay, g’night buddy.”

Leaning down, Glenn presses a kiss to Nick’s forehead. Nick wraps his small arms around Glenn’s neck in a brief hug.

“Night Daddy.”

Standing up, Glenn places Nick’s bear next to him on the bed. He silently walks to the door, switching off the light. Nick’s night-light gives off a soft glow beside his bed.

The apartment is silent again. This time, the absence of noise is suffocating; surrounding Glenn, choking him.

He steps away from Nick’s door, left open just a crack by his preference. The father takes the three steps it takes to cross the hallway to his door. He shuts his door, remaining in the dark of his room.

It’s messy, in the space he and Morgan inhabited. Clothes tossed here and there, the bed unkempt. Morgan mentioned cleaning up that morning. Glenn forgot to.

This room was once warm and inviting to Glenn; now, it's bathed in a somber grief. It only invites pain.

The man crosses his room, pausing at a pile of clothes. He stoops down, picking up one of Morgan’s shirts— initially his, but she stole it so often it became hers.

Holding the shirt in his hands, Glenn sits on the bed, on her side. He holds the shirt to his face, taking in a breath— smelling her so clearly, as if he was holding her in his arms.

A single sob shakes his body. It rips out of his throat, as silent as it is. And from one, a second and third erupt forth, until he is sobbing without stop into her shirt. Tears fall from his eyes, turning the black fabric a shade darker from the moisture. He cries desperately, grieving violently.

His choked and muffled cries bring his body to collapse and crumble in his bed. He feels the softness of their pillows under his head, smells everything so familiar and so agonizing. Wafts of her shampoo. Notes of her perfume. The lingering musk of the last bowl they smoked.

His mind wanders back. Back to the previous night. How they laid together, warm, content. Cuddling, their room smoky and musky. How they talked about their dreams, about the bigger picture. About how much they loved Nicky, how much they loved each other. How it turned into kissing and giggling, whispering “shh”, and “don’t wake Nick up”...

And that morning, laying together, chest to back. How he woke her up with playful kisses on her shoulder and neck, and ran his fingers over her ribs to make her laugh and giggle.

How he traced her tattoos and mumbled soft things to her. Mumbled her praise and his gratitude. Marveled over the life he has, married to a woman that showed him compassion and love, scolded him and taught him how to be something more than he was raised. Showed him he could be a good father. Better than the shitbag he had.

And how that was all gone.

That night, Glenn Close grieved heavily. He fell asleep in tears, his last thoughts of tomorrow. Of having to sit down Nicholas and explain to him how his Mommy is never coming home.

Explaining that, in several week’s time, they would have to dress solemn and black, and stand in a field blemished with grey tombstones and watch a coffin be lowered into the earth.

Sending him to school with that knowledge. Going through the day himself, with that knowledge.

Knowing Glenn will do his best, and his best will be lacking in every way. Knowing he will fall back into old habits while trying to keep things together. Knowing as he begins to look strangely reminiscent, his habits will grow hauntingly reminiscent, and his actions will be shadowed with similarity.

Knowing while he may never fail to kiss his son on the head and tell him he loves him, he will fail to comfort him in the right ways, as he has always struggled with. He will hesitate and ultimately avoid addressing the problem, and go on pretending everything will be alright.

Knowing, for certain, in 10 years time, or sooner, he will hate himself, and who he sees in the mirror.

And won’t be alright.

[jksnrabbit]

Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart [CLOSESON]

happy pride month to my favourite fictional men

i also made a version with Good Luck, Babe! because i think chappell roan couldve changed darryl 'he feels love for the first time in a while' wilson

[methcheese]

me when things get Bad but i can only think abt that fuckin dad podcast

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely think that from a moral standpoint Glenn made the better choice at the end of the trial- in fact I think one of the most tragic things about that scene (where we hear Glenn’s reasoning and all that) is that if you needed irrefutable proof that Glenn is both a good person and a good dad, there it was! But of course by that point it was already too late.

But… Sometimes I find myself thinking about… How to put this… If Nick had learned of his dad’s decision, do you think he might have… Taken it the wrong way? Do you think if Nick Close had learned that Glenn chose to give up being his dad, he would have understood this as the ultimate act of abandonment? Or that his dad didn’t see him as someone worth fighting for? Not that I think Nick would have wanted his dad to fight the dragon either per se, but… Well, maybe deep down some part of him would have, actually.

[pencildragons]

i think glenn would be SO annoying in the heaven prisons. just talking ALL the time, trying to get darryl to play i spy with him, or bait henry into arguements by saying WILDLY untrue things about nature, or planning tours with ron. he definitely absolutely gets into arguements with the other dads, because even if he has to get into yelling matches, it means he isnt alone

[felsicveins]

Post-forgotten-realms-return Christmas

[untowardsthoughts]

I Believe You Have A Call [dndads brothers au fic]

this is one of the fics that i mentioned in this post; a lil piece of the Glenn and Jodie Brothers AU that's been rollin around my noggin for a few months now. its basically just a rewrite of that one scene where glenn takes the phone call from morgan but brothers au

--

Excerpt taken from Dungeons & Daddies (Ep 28, The Bridges of Dad and Son County) Anthony: The shortest one walks up to Glenn and produces a cell phone. Shortest Robe: I believe you have a call. … Freddie: Uh… Caller ID? Nothing? Anthony: The caller ID says the name of your late wife, Morgan Freeman.

--

Standing face to face with the men who kidnapped their sons was bone-chilling, to say the least. Jodie stood there, ears plugged on account of Erin’s warning to their group, unable to hear anything of what was being said from the purple robes in front of them. 

Jodie and Henry watched the muffled back-and-forth between Darryl, Ron and the robed figures, until Paeden turned to the two of them, flicking his ears in a gesture of take out your earplugs. 

The tallest robe steps forward towards the dads, “You are going to answer yes or no to the following question: you will let us raise your children, in exchange we will help you leave the Forgotten Realms today. And not only that…”

The shortest one approaches Jodie, producing a small cellphone from the depths of their robe. Jodie takes a step back, hand inching towards his firearm on his holster. 

“I believe you have a call.”

… A call?

The only people capable of producing phone calls in this dimension were themselves to their wives, and Scam Likely - and seeing how the latter recently met his demise, Jodie doubts either option. 

Jodie gingerly takes the cellphone from the hooded figure and puts it to his ear.

“... Hello?”

“Hey man! How’s it hangin’?”

The phone almost slips from his hand. That can’t be him- he’s dead, he’s been dead- He steadies his breathing as he can feel himself about to choke up. 

“... Glenn? Is that- is that you?”

“Yeah dawg, did you lose my number already? I’ve been gone for, what, a month now? I woulda hoped you’d wait a bit longer than that, at least two.”

“No, no, no, no - I didn’t- What I meant was.. you’ve- I-”

“Relax dude, I was joking. Anyways, I’m calling to tell you that I’m on my way back! Dad and I are gonna be in town for a couple days and I wanted to see if you were down to hang out. I’m thinkin’ McDonalds?”

“.... What year is it?” Jodie can feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. Out of all things, a call from his late brother was the last thing he was expecting to deal with since coming into this realm and losing his kid. The thought crossed his mind when they were faced with the whole Terry Senior situation, but once all the Dads agreed that they were indeed not dead, Jodie tried not to give it any more thought. His brother’s been dead for at least a decade now, he can’t afford to spiral down that theory again. Not now. Not here, not when he was so close to getting his son back. 

“...Dude, are you okay? Don’t tell me you went through my shit, dammit. It’s like 1 in the afternoon! Did you eat anything? If it was the gummies on my desk- ”

“Glenn, answer the question - please.” 

“It's 1996. Joe, listen to me, man. You’re gonna be alright, just hang in there. Put on a movie, sit your ass down on the couch - I’ll be home in about 2 hours. Is mom home?”

“I- uhh…”

“Alright, forget about that. Just relax, you’ll be fine. Try to enjoy it! I’ll see you later.”

Click. 

[itsbrucey]

Part of me is a tad frustrated we haven't been able to crack 48/49% of the poll. Especially with so much effort going into it. And then I realized this is Glenn fighting against Carlos from NIGHTVALE. THEE TUMBLR PODCAST OF ALL TIME??? and then I'm in awe that grandpa is still fucking standing.

Idk I think there's something legitimately something there bc idk if any of the other contestant groups unionized as hard. that's fucking insane

[ajaystillblue]

“Darryl had slept next to Henry and Mercedes a few times and then with Henry and Glenn, of course, but never with all of them together. It felt right. Safe. 

The afternoon light bled through the blinds, dappling the bed as wind moved trees in the backyard. The fan hummed above them.

Mercedes was the first to fall asleep, snoring lightly, her face tilted towards her husband. Darryl couldn’t see Henry's expression but saw it in his mind’s eye, the gentle reverence of his gaze on her. He reached out to settle a hand on Glenn’s hip, and he was out soon too, forehead resting on Mercedes’ shoulder.

Darryl peeked over at Glenn. His eye was closed but Darryl knew what he sounded like when he was truly asleep. With a start, he realized he’d taken off the eyepatch— he’d never seen Glenn without it. 

“Hey,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the shush of the fan and Henry and Mercedes’ breathing. Glenn looked over at him. 

Sure you’re okay? he mouthed. He knew they were waiting to talk properly but he had to check. 

Glenn studied him for a long moment, face soft in the faint light. His head rose and fell gently with Mercedes’ breathing, his hair shaking into his face. He didn’t move to fix it. 

Gonna be okay, he mouthed back. Promise. 

Darryl’s throat got tight again. He nodded and watched as Glenn drifted off as well. 

He fought against sleep for a long while, not wanting to forget the way he felt at this moment. He watched shadows dance on the wall until his eyes closed.”

I commissioned the incredible @martineisling to design a cover illustration for my fic Emergency Contact and!!!!!!! 🥺🥺 I mean what can I ever SAY!!! The details??? (THE TAROT CARDS!!!!) Their sweet little faces?! Martine’s designs have always been these characters in my mind’s eye when I’m writing so seeing them here like this is such a gift. 

[yeahiguess3232]

Do they even have beds this large in the forgotten realm?

[risetherivermoon]

every now and then i go back to the disabled glenn, glorgan & cloakson oneshot/fic ive been writing since forever ago and feel the urge to post it, because its one of the best character studies ive ever done, but alas, it aint finished 😔

[phillycheesesteakcore]

The Sleepover

CONTAINS SEASON 1 SPOILERS

word count: 4.6k

cw: mostly fluff, some angst if you squint, a little suggestive

synopsis: Glenn still has a house on Earth. it mostly stays empty, except of course when a certain druid uses it as a place to crash occasionally. this is what happens when the owner of the house happens to catch said druid when he comes home unexpectedly

Henry shook his head, pushing that last thought away and dragging himself to his feet. He could almost see Mercede’s smug smirk over his dumb crush. He made his way to the living room, dropping the bag he’d brought with him on the floor and collapsing on the sofa. He stared absentmindedly at the ceiling. It was quiet here. So quiet. In a few minutes he’d schlep himself off the couch and pop the pastries he’d picked up from Trader Joe’s in the air fryer to toast. In a few minutes he’d actually enjoy a meal that didn’t end in an impromptu food fight. In a few minutes he might even take a shower without having to worry about anyone barging into the bathroom without so much a knock. But right now, right now he’d just lie there and stare at the ceiling, enjoying the silence.

Henry looked around furtively. This was ridiculous. He really should stop this. This would be the last time. You said that a dozen times ago, a little voice said in his head. He ignored that voice and turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, slipping soundlessly into the house. Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against it and sunk to the floor. Eyes shut, he simply breathed in the air of the empty house, smelling of leather and guitar polish and the faintest whiff of weed. Just like him.

Glenn pulled into his driveway and just sat there parked, looking up at the house. He could’ve just made a portal inside, but he’d had to pick his car up from the mechanic anyways, and it was nice to drive around a bit. Most times he came back to Earth he just hung out with Nick or the other dads and their kids, so it’d been a while since he actually took a spin around San Dimas. Most of it was the same, but there were a few new sights to see. He was just glad to be home. Hell was cool and all, but it was still Hell.

Grabbing his duffle bag and the bags of groceries and other things he’d picked up from the store, he got out of the car and headed towards the door.

“Glenn, honey?” an old voice called over, “Is that you?”

“Yes Ms. Dolores,” he replied with a grin, making his way over the low fence that marked the property line, “it’s me”

“It’s so nice to see you” his geriatric neighbor said genially, gently pinching his cheeks, “I swear I see less and less of you these days. Where’ve you been?”

“Nowhere suitable for your ladylike ears to hear,” Glenn said with a wink.

“Oh, stop it,” she said with a cheeky smile, “if I were twenty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

“I think we both know if you were twenty years younger, I wouldn’t stand a chance, Ms. Dolores,” Glenn said. She playfully swatted his shoulder.

“You stop with that talk now, or else you’ll make your boyfriend jealous. I think he’s inside.” she said. Glenn quirked an eyebrow.

“Boyfriend?”

“You know; greasy blonde hair, cargo shorts, Birkenstocks? Kind of cute in a crunchy way.”

“Oh right, him,” Glenn said, slow smile spreading across his face, amused.

“Has that new salt and pepper in your hair made you as forgetful as me, or do you just have so many paramours it’s hard to keep track of them all?” she asked sardonically.

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” Glenn replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek in goodbye and heading towards his own home, “You take care of yourself.”

“You too honey” she called, going back to what she’d been doing.

Glenn approached the front door, fishing his spare key out of the secret compartment in the house number by the doorbell. He was about to put it in and turn the lock when a thought occurred to him. Instead, he slipped the key in his pocket and simply tried the doorknob, finding it open just like he suspected. Slipping inside as quietly as he could, he looked around and listened for anyone else inside. Sure enough, there was light spilling out into the hallway from the direction of the kitchen and he could hear a quiet humming coming from there as well.

Henry had finally pulled himself off the couch and made his way to the kitchen to make himself a snack. He was absentmindedly reading the ingredients lest on the back of the packaging when the air fryer let out a little trill indicating it was done. After carefully folding up and tucking the cardboard box in one of the recycling bins, Henry grabbed a plate from the cupboard and started putting pasties on it.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” a voice said from behind him. Henry yelped and jumped with a start, almost dropping his plate. Whipping around, he saw a not-so-amused looking Glenn Close leaning against the doorframe, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, groceries in his arms.

“Glenn! H-hi!” Henry stuttered, “Listen, I can explain.”

Glenn just walked over to the kitchen island, setting the duffle bag on one of the tall stools pulled up against it and the grocery bags on top of it. He started pulling things out of the bags and walked over to the cupboard to put them away, peeking his head back out from behind the open cupboard door.

“Go ahead, explain.” he said, going right back to putting the things away.

“R-right. Um, well, Glenn, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing in your house.” Henry stammered out, still stood nervously by the air fryer.

“Uh-huh.” Glenn moved over to the fridge, sliding past Henry in the narrow space between the kitchen island and the counter. Henry felt the heat of him as he went by, shivering just a tiny bit. He shook his head, gathering himself before going on.

“D’you— do you remember that time we needed a speaker on short notice and you said I could borrow one from your place?”

“Yeah.” Glenn said from the refrigerator, sniffing suspiciously at a jug of juice he’d left behind.

“Well, I, uh, never got around to giving you back your house key.”

“Clearly,” He decided to throw it out just to be safe. Going over to where the trash can was, he noticed the recycling bins. “These new?”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“Huh,” Glenn said before throwing away the bottle. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, just staring at Henry.

“Look, man, I’m sorry for crashing your place and using your stuff and moving things around. I honestly didn’t mean to keep your key, I really just forgot to give it back right away, and then I never had it on me when you were around. I know I shouldn’t be here when you’re not home, or I should’ve at least asked,” Henry burst out in a rush, “it was meant to be just a one-time thing but then it came a habit before I realized it, and I’m really, really sorry and I— are you laughing?”

“No it’s— keep going man it’s—” Glenn cleared his throat and tried to put his serious face back on but just doubled over laughing again, leaning on Henry for support. “You just looked like kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Seriously, what am I gonna do, ground you? It’s fine man.”

Henry sagged against the counter, relieved and slightly annoyed. “That wasn’t funny Glenn.”

Glenn looked up, face nearly split in two with a grin. “Come on, it was a little funny.”

Henry could feel the weight of him, catch a whiff of that smoky, almost spicy scent that clung to him. Gently shoving him off, he cleared his throat asked “When’d you get back?”

“This morning. I picked my car up from the shop and decided to a spin around town. I actually ran into my neighbor just outside. You’re over here quite a bit, aren’t you?” Glenn asked, leaning in even closer and playfully flicking Henry’s cheek, “She thinks you’re my boyfriend.”

Henry turned beet red and spluttered. “Sh-she saw me? I’m not over here that ofte— She r-really thinks tha— I can’t believe she’d say something li—”

“Relax,” Glenn said, resting a hand on Henry’s shoulder, “I don’t think she’s exactly going around telling people that. Besides, you could do a lot worse than me.” With a wink, he turned back to the kitchen island, he grabbing his duffle bag and heading out the door. “I’m gonna go shower real quick, I’ll be right back.”

Henry once again sagged against the kitchen counter, chuckling to himself. He felt windblown, but that was just the thing about Glenn, wasn’t it?

He was just sitting down at the table with his snacks when his phone rang. His wife’s face filled up the screen.

“Hola, mi amor,” Mercedes trilled, “just wanted to let you know that Ricky picked up the boys for an impromptu sleepover with their cousins. Me and some of the girls from the station are going out to get some drinks so I might be back late. You’re at Glenn’s anyway right? So you’ll be fine. Say hi to him for me.”

“How’d you know he was in town?” Henry asked.

“Gloria ran into him at the mechanic’s,” her expression turned mischievous, “try not to embarrass yourself too much, you know how you can get.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Henry said, blushing furiously.

“Oh come now, mi león, don’t be coy. Remember that cute barista in Quito? Or that lovely couple in Amsterdam? And we can’t forget how you first were with me when—”

“Alright, I get it.” Henry said.

“Get what?” Glenn asked as he came into the kitchen. He had a towel wrapped low around his waist and another in his hands drying his hair. He came over to where Henry was sitting and looked over his shoulder. “Hey Mercedes. Looking radiant as always.”

“Thank you Glenn, great to see you,” she replied, “well, I’ve got to run. I’m carpooling with Gloria, and you know how she hates to be left waiting. You boys have fun. Te amo mi amor, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Get what?” Glenn asked again after Mercedes hung up.

“It’s nothing,” Henry said quickly. He looked at Glenn. He was still drying off his long salt-and-pepper hair, and evidently hadn’t bothered to dry off much else yet. Water droplets glistened on his skin under the kitchen lights, and Henry struggled not to stare. “You’re dripping all over the kitchen.”

“And you’re changing the subject. Besides, it’s my kitchen. I’ll drip where I like.” Glenn said.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a demon now, remember? We have a much warmer internal temperature than humans.” He took Henry’s hand and placed it on his bare chest. Sure enough, the heat was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He could feel the strong thump of Glenn’s heartbeat under his skin, he wondered if that had been affected too by his transformation. He realized he’d been staring too long and snatched his hand away.

“Oh, um, I guess you will.” He laughed nervously. “Mercedes was just calling to let me know that the twins were taken care of for the night and she was going out with friends.”

“Great. You should spend the night. We’ve got a lot to catching up to do.”

“Aren’t you going over to Jodie’s to hang out with Nick and them?”

“Jodie always makes a big stink if I show up without giving them a heads up when I’m coming around. I’ll go tomorrow.” He leaned in, placing a hand on the table with a smirk, “What, you don’t want to spend some quality time with your good friend Glenn?”

“It’s not like that,”

“Alright then. You go shower. I don’t care if you think rain is nature’s shower or whatever. I’ll order pizza from that new place I saw in town. You know if they’re any good?”

“Hey!” Henry said, slightly offended, “And yes, they are. They’ve got great vegan options too.”

“Fantastic. Now shoo, off you go.” Glenn started looking up the place he’d seen on his phone, “I’ll order for you too don’t worry.”

“Fine,” with a sigh Henry started to get up.

“Up the stairs, second door on the right,” Glenn called after him.

“Yeah I know.” Henrey said back.

“Oh I forgot, you practically own the place.”

“Shut up!” Henry spluttered, “And put some clothes on, I don’t care how hot you are.” He immediately wanted to stuff the words back in his mouth.

“What was that?” Glenn asked, Henry could practically hear that smugness in his voice.

“Nothing!” and with that he raced up the stairs, hearing Glenn cackling with laughter behind him.

Glenn knocked on the bathroom door, entering when he heard a muted response. Henry was stood there barefoot in only his cargo shorts, squinting at the back of a shampoo bottle.

“I brought you a towel,” Glenn said, handing it over to him, “what’re you doing?”

“Thanks,” Henry said, slinging it over his shoulder absentmindedly, “I’m just trying to figure out how eco-friendly this is.”

“Please,” Glenn scoffed, “you think I just let any old garbage chemicals in this hair? You got nothing to worry about.” To demonstrate, he let his hair down and fall to its full length reaching past his waist. Henry’s expression softened.

“I guess you’re right.” He said.

“Of course I am. Food’ll be here in about twenty minutes. When you’re done you can just put your clothes in that basket, I’ll throw ‘em in the laundry.” With that, Glenn left the bathroom and headed downstairs. He collapsed on the sofa in the living room. Henry had been there, he realized. He could smell that musky, piney scent of him. A faint smile played at his lips. He should probably get back to his room and finish unpacking, but he just wanted to lay there for a bit. A couple minutes later the doorbell rang. Heaving himself off the couch, he got up to go answer it. “Food’s here!” he yelled upstairs to Henry.

“Alright, I’ll be down in a minute!” Henry called back.

Glenn took the takeout out to the back porch and put it all on the picnic table out there. He could hear Henry come downstairs. “Out here!” he hollered. When Henry came out wearing his robe, he stopped in tracks.

“Oh sorry,” Henry said a little sheepishly, “is it alright that I borrowed this? I didn’t have anything else to wear.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s fine man,” Glenn replied after a beat, “Sorry, I should’ve left something out for you.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m alright.” Henry stared at the mountain of food laid out on the table. “Are the others coming over too?”

“Nope, just us,” Glenn said with a grin “I eat a lot more than I used to on account of being a—”

“Demon, right” Henry sat down as Glenn inspected the pizza box labels and handed one off to him.

“This is for you,” he said, handing him two smaller bags as well, “and I got you a salad and some garlic bread too. It’s vegan, I asked, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I thought you might want to eat watching your favorite show.” Glenn said. Looking up, Henry saw that, sure enough, the sun was setting in a gorgeous array of oranges and pinks and reds, streaked with vibrant shots of blue.

“Thanks,” Henry said with a sight chuckle, “I gotta say Glenn, you are the nicest demon I know.”

“Don’t let anyone know,” Glenn said, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Sure.” Henry just rolled his eyes. After a moment he asked, “What is that like, being a demon?”

Glenn didn’t answer.

“If that’s too personal I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer.”

“No no, it’s” Glenn sighed and took another beat before answering, “that’s just the thing. It’s great. My senses are heightened, I’m stronger, I don’t get sick. It’s a better body than I ever had before.” He looked out into the backyard for a moment. “Over there in that corner there used to be a crabapple tree. When Nick was a little kid, he and some of his friends ate a bunch that they’d picked from the schoolyard over there and a little tree ended up growing. There was a playset too. He begged me and Morgan to get it for him on a trip to Costco. Hell, I had to buy this picnic table like the one we used to have. It took me forever to find the exact same type but I did. There’s nothing here that proves I was ever anything to either of them, and I don’t even have the same body I was a husband and father in.”

Henry put a hand on Glenn’s shoulder. “I— I’m sorry I asked.”

“No, it’s— it’s fine man.” Glenn ran a hand through his hair, “It’s not your fault. I— I’m glad you’re here.”

“Even though I broke in?” Henry smiled.

“Pfft, yeah,” he looked over at Henry, “Why did you come here? I’m not mad or anything, just, why here?”

“You— you know I love my boys,” Henry started, chewing on his lip, “but it’s no secret that they can be— difficult. Even before, well, everything, I used to have to get a way every now and again. Stay an extra hour at the museum, that sort of thing. But since we came back, things have been different. And of course they have, of course they have. It would be unfair for me to expect everything to go right back to normal, whatever normal even is anymore. But, Glenn, my sons feel like strangers to me. I’m— I’m reaching out with love and it’s like it means nothing. Lark is so angry, all the time. And he’s hurt, and I know this, and I want to help, but he just won’t let me. He won’t even let me get close. And Sparrow, Sparrow, the poor kid is tearing himself in two. Trying to keep the peace, trying to mediate, trying to be a good brother. And I’m afraid he doesn’t have room for himself anymore. And I can see this, and I can do nothing, they won’t even let me try. I— being in that house, it’s… I have no words for it, Glenn. And so I run away, like a coward. And I end up here, where I can just be alone, without pitying glances from coworkers who know my kids used to come with me all the time, or know-it-all comments about teenage rebellion.”

After a minute, Glenn said, “You’re a good dad Henry.”

Henry looked up sharply. “I didn’t say all that for you to tell—”

“I know. But I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it. We both know what shitty dads are like. And I know that just not being a shitty dad doesn’t make you a good one. But you’re a good dad Henry.”

“Thanks Glenn.” Henry said after a minute.

“Yeah.” Glenn looked up at the house. “Thanks for staying with me tonight. I’ll be honest I was relieved when I found out you were here. I— I don’t like being here by myself. The house being so empty just feels so wrong. And you can come over whenever you’d like. Someone should stay here. I don’t know if I count.”

“Okay,” Henry said softly. They ate in silence for a few minutes. A drone buzzed overhead. Glenn looked over at Henry with a wicked smile.

“Watch this.” He got up from the picnic table and walked down the back porch steps into the backyard. As he went, horns sprouted out of his head. He took off his shirt as wings sprung from his back and a tail peeked out from the top of his pants. Crouching low for a second, he leaped into the air, his wings taking him further up until he caught the drone twenty feet in the air. He took a deep breath and bellowed as loud as he could directly into its camera before letting it go and slamming back to the ground.

“What in the world?” Henry asked with a bewildered smile.

“There’s a fairly new urban legend going around about a local cryptid that may or may not be based on yours truly,” Glenn replied, grinning wildly. Slinging his t-shirt over his shoulder, he walked back up the steps of the back porch and started clearing up the empty pizza boxes and take-out bags.

“You shouldn’t mess with them like that,” Henry jokingly scolded as he moved to help him clean up.

“I’m not really, if you think about it. A demon truly walks amongst them.” Glenn said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. Bringing the things inside, he placed it all on the counter, looking to the recycling bins and then back to Henry. “We’re supposed to separate the plastic and cardboard right?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” Henry said, pleased that Glenn was using his little additions to the kitchen, “you have to flatten them first though, so they don’t take up too much space.”

“Got it. Watch this.” Glenn stacked all six pizza boxes in his hands and shmushed them together.

“No, you’re supposed to unfold them first,” Henry laughed, “if you do it like that, they’ll bunch up around the sides.”

“You don’t like my pizza box flattening?” Glenn asked, taking one of the boxes and lightly smacking Henry on the shoulder. “Huh?”

“Wait— sto— Glenn!” Henry managed to snatch one of the boxes and smack Glenn right back between laughs.

“Oh it’s so on.” They chased each other around the kitchen, laughing and smacking each other until Glenn had Henry cornered by fridge. He raised his pizza box above his head to bring it down on Henry for one final smack.

“Entangle!” Henry yelled and the little potted plant on the windowsill suddenly burst into a writhing, viney mass, wrapping up Glenn in seconds. Thoroughly incapacitated, Glenn could only watch as Henry got oh so close and gave him one last soft tap on the forehead with his pizza box.

“You cheat.” Glenn said, smiling.

“I was playing with a demon after all,” Henry shrugged innocently, “you can’t really expect me to play nice.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With a great burst of his wings, he cut through the plant, freeing himself. He looked down at the pile of vines left on the floor and then back at Henry. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

“Fair enough,” Henry started making his way over to the closet where the cleaning supplies were kept to grab the broom, but his foot caught on one of the vines. Glenn tried to catch him before he fell, but they both ended up crashing to the floor.

“Ow,” Henry rubbed his sore hip, “you okay Glenn?”

“Uh…” Glenn stared down at Henry. The robe he was wearing had slipped down his shoulders. The two of them were close, so close. Glenn could smell the scent of his soap on Henry’s skin. He could feel him, warm beneath him, legs tangled with his own. Henry’s breath tickled against his skin in a small gasp as Glenn brushed away a lock of blonde hair from his face. Glenn leaned his head in closer.

“Glenn?” Henry asked in barely a whisper.

“Yeah?” Glenn responded in the same breath, dragging his eyes away from his lips to look Henry in the eyes, “If you don’t want—”

Herny kissed him. His lips were soft but fierce against Glenn’s own, ravenous, hungry. His hands snaked up Glenn’s neck, his fingers tangling in his salt-and-pepper hair. He tugged on it and Glenn moaned softly into his mouth. Glenn’s own hands wandered over Henry’s body, feeling his way under the robe, tugging it down to the belted waist. His hands faltered. He wanted this, he needed this, so badly, and yet he—

Henry tore his lips from the kiss. “Glenn?”

“I— I can’t, I—” Glenn’s voice was raw and raspy. “I’m sorry— I—”

“Hey,” Henry’s face softened. Letting go of Glenn’s hair, he caressed his face. “It’s okay.”

“I want to, I really do, but—” Glenn couldn’t find the words.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t apologize.” gently pushing himself up, Henry took Glenn’s hand in his own, “We can take this slow.”

Glenn just nodded. They sat in silence together for a few minutes. After a while, Glenn pulled himself to his feet and offered a hand to help Henry up. He gave him a small smile.

“We should, uh, probably get you some real pj’s.”

“Oh, right.” Henry laughed. They both stared at the mess of the kitchen, suddenly feeling tired.

“We can clean up tomorrow, I wanna go to bed.” Glenn said.

“Yeah,” Henry replied. They headed upstairs. Glenn dug through his drawer pulled out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants and handed them to Henry.

“Thanks.”

“I, uh, dressed the bed in the next room over while you were in the shower earlier.” Glenn said, “If you want to sleep there, that is. Unless you want to sleep here… with me.”

“Are you sure?” Henry asked.

“Yeah,” Glenn smiled, “yeah I am.”

“Okay then.” Henry pulled on the t-shirt and sweatpants, slipping out of the robe. By the time he was done changing, Glenn was already in bed. He crawled in under the covers with him and closed his eyes. Glenn switched off the light beside the bed.

“Goodnight Glenn.”

“Goodnight Henry.”

“I know you’re awake.” Henry gently poked at Glenn’s cheek.

“No I’m not,” Glenn grumbled, digging deeper under the covers trying to shut out the morning light.

“Sure.” Henry just rolled his eyes.

“What time is it?”

“Nine twenty-one.”

“It’s nine am on a Saturday, there’s no way I’m awake.”

“If you say so.”

After a minute, Glenn reached a hand out from under the covers and felt around for his phone on the bedside table.

“I thought you weren’t awake.”

Glenn just made a face at him. Picking up his phone, he dialed Jodie.

“What?” Jodie answered.

“Me and Henry are coming over for breakfast.”

“Henry, sure. You I don’t know.”

“Shut up.”

“Is that Glenn?” he heard Nick ask, “Is he eating here? Did he say he’s bringing Henry? Are Lark and Sparrow coming?”

Glenn looked over at Henry. “We can pick your boys up from Ricky’s place on the way over, right?”

“Y-yeah.” Henry said.

“Yeah, the twins are coming too.” Glenn hung up without waiting for a response from Jodie. He and Henry got dressed and ready to leave. Just before Henry got in the car, he pulled him close and kissed him.

“Good morning, by the way.” Glenn said.

“Good morning to you too.” Henry replied.

“Good morning boys!” Ms. Dolores called from over the fence.

“Good morning Ms. Dolores!” they hollered back.

“How are you Hank?” she asked, “Don’t be such a stranger, you should come say hi some time.”

“It’s Henry.” Glenn said.

“It’s fine,” Henry said, “I’ll be sure to do that Ms. Dolores.”

“Good, good.”

Glenn pulled out of the driveway and headed over to Ricky Garcia’s place. The twins piled in the backseat and they drove to the Foster household. Nicky answered the door and gave Glenn a big hug before pulling Lark and Sparrow to go hang out in his room. Glenn and Henry made their way to the dining room and said hello to Jodie and Morgan, catching up. Jodie noticed the band t-shirt Henry was wearing and smirked.

“About damn time,” he muttered under his breath to Glenn.

“Shut up.”

They were all sat down halfway through breakfast when Glenn remembered.

“Shit, the kitchen.”

Taglist: @apricior @aqua-ginger @cheesetheory @greiiliss @i-3at-s0ap @officialgleamstar @m1locer3al @your-witch-trial-has-expired @thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls @itsbrucey @drag-ev @nutria--oscura @babacontainsmultitudes @prettyupsetnerd @pepadesol @cornychipper-18 @girlnemisis @landrick-lycidas @icy-book @watermelon-beachboy @bread-stickk @amnestyliketaz @yinmndragon @quillisgay @wombat-things @confusedlazydoggo @van-goghs-leftear @pencildragons @justablah56 @auguststone @chaos-ignited @roboobin @abeinginsand @mcleavemealone @himboparimbo @cookies-over-yonder @javasquats @lunarrosette @renepessimisticfanboi @mikeystrawberry @greylight32 @imperatrice-pigeon @oswin-remains (I tagged most people who interacted with my previous posts about this fic, barring those who indicated in their bio/carrd that they were minors, due to the suggestive content. If this applies to you and I missed it, or you would like to be taken off the tag list for any other reason, please let me know!)

[abeinginsand]

You're adorable like this (Glennry)

For wip wednesday! Title: You're adorable like this

Relationships: Glennry, Background Hencedes Other info: AU where Glenn had the prison arc, but never died, the doodler wasn't released, and both Glenn and Nicky are still human.

“You're adorable like this." Those are the first words Glenn hears after waking up. He blinks groggily and blows a silver strand of hair out of his face. It joins the rest of his hair splayed against the colorful pillows and sheets. “Ah geez, sorry, Glenn. Didn’t mean to wake you.” The blonde haired man above him smiles, chuckling in a way that rumbles through his body. The sound makes it clear this guy’s not that sorry at all. The tension in his shoulders lessens as he recognizes the voice and feels the warm, sweaty, weight leaning on his chest. It’s Henry. Of course, it’s Henry. Why wouldn’t it be?

‘Cause Glenn’s been spending the week at the Oak-Garcia’s keeping his pal company with Mercedes’ thrilled permission while she’s at some conference out of town. The arrangement isn’t the part the ex-rockstar’s still stalling over. It’s all the other kinks he hasn’t managed to shake off from the past. Always takes him a minute to an hour everyday to fully believe he’s not in that cell and in chains again. Doesn’t help that the aches from back then, especially in that arm, never left either.

“You’re making a face. Need some space? I can get started on breakfast–” “Nah, stay.” “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.” “Yeah, m’ good.” The words get Henry to stop his half-way move to get off the bed and he opts to flop down to the dark-haired man’s side with a hand resting on his chest instead. The feeling of Henry’s fingers swirling circles over his scars tickles too much not to get a laugh out of him. He has his gaze on the ceiling but moves a hand to rest over Henry’s. He pretends it’s to get him to stop with the tickling instead of wanting something more to remind him how real this cozy moment is. “You're adorable like this, all sleepy and soft…” “You said that earlier. How come I’m not cool or handsome?” “Those words aren’t mutually exclusive, Glenn. You’re all of them to me.” Henry squeezes his hand once and,with a glance, he can see the geologist is ready to launch into a passionate lecture about toxic masculinity. But he seems to lose steam when the DJ squeezes his hand back and smirks. “Heh, yeah, I’m an all in one package, baby. Don’t forget it.” The other man makes a face at that familiar cocky tone, frowning some, and shaking his head. “I should watch my words. Looks like it's already going to your head!”

“My head, huh?”

“Don’t make me throw a pillow. You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Ugh, you’re a menace.”

Glenn shifts under the thin blanket to turn to face Henry. He admires the stray wrinkles around the druid’s forest green eyes as he so clearly pouts back at the cause.

“You love me, anyway~”

There’s the feeling of hot breath on the bard’s skin as Henry leans more into his side with a grumble and gives him a kiss on the cheek. The other man whispers a soft:

“Yes, I do, mi amor.”

The long-haired man’s heart squeezes at that response. He knew that both Henry and Mercedes had talked at length with each other and with him about all this stuff. Yet being called one of the same pet names as Henry’s life-long partner, his wife, felt–

His train of thought is interrupted by the sound of several things clattering and crashing to the ground. Seems like the kids were awake, them or the various animals anyways. Or the horrible possibility of both at once.

This week of such noisy living was leading to plenty of revelations. One of the easier ones to accept being that maybe his parents had a point when they only let him have a goldfish as a kid.

[isadora-greenhall]

A Feeling That I Belong

Happy Day 1 of @dndadsfanweeks’ Ronmance Weekend! How could I not write Glenn realising how much Ron loves him? Enjoy!

Rating: T

Archive warnings: None apply

Relationship: Glenn Close/Ron Stampler

Words: 623

Can’t wait to see everyone else’s wonderful creations!

[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.

[luvs-hound]

in which glenn wakes from a nightmare and henry’s there. when isn’t he.

part of my art trade w/ @bearlyastar <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/56174851