#miklan anschutz gautier

[4701rose]

... I want to start by this art is utterly amazing, so much so that I needed to write a scene of what is going on inside this world.

Title: good things do happen

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,445

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Love

Miklan was rifling through the kitchen cabinets, looking for something to eat, when he heard the key turn in the back door. He looked down at the mostly empty box of protein bars he knew Sylvain was saving for lunches and the jar of peanut butter they had no bread to spread on and shut the cabinet. When he turned around, Sylvain was standing in the hallway, wiping his snow-covered boots on the black dirt-encrusted doormat that was here when they first moved in. There was a radiator by the back door. 

Miklan watched as Sylvain pulled off his gloves with his teeth and put them on top of the radiator. Sylvain shivered as he pulled the zipper on his jacket down. He was wearing the outer layer of Miklan’s coat. The zipper was broken, so Miklan couldn’t very well use it, now, could he? 

Sylvain looked up and saw Miklan watching him. He smiled one of those corny little smiles that made Miklan want to go over and smack him. “Hey,” Sylvain said as he stepped out of his winter boots and into their kitchen. The floor was linoleum that had once been white, dotted here and there with blue flowers. There was dirt strewn all across the floor. In black socks, you didn’t notice it as much, but Miklan did notice Sylvain kept the jacket on. 

Sylvain stroked his red hands up and down his upper arms before he buried his hands in his jacket pockets with a shiver. “Did you manage to get the heat working?” Sylvain asked, his chestnut eyes twinkling like he knew the answer already and was asking just to be annoying. Typical. 

Miklan grunted as he turned around to inspect the other cabinets in their tiny kitchen. “No,” he huffed. “The landlord said he’ll come by tomorrow.” 

Sylvain chuckled. “You don’t sound convinced.” 

“He hasn’t come over the last two times he’d promised to.” Miklan opened the fridge and studied its contents as his annoying little brother draped himself against Miklan’s lefthand side, like leech. “What the hell, brat.” 

“You’re warm,” Sylvain huffed into his ear. “How was work today?” 

Miklan made a face at the jar of mustard and the carton of eggs with three eggs remaining in it. “It was work,” Miklan said, noncommittal. 

“Dorothea told me you scared the piss out of some dude.” 

When Miklan looked down at his little brother, Sylvain’s eyes were laughing. Miklan sighed and then shook Sylvain off his arm so he could crouch down. Inside the vegetable drawer was one lonely wilted head of lettuce. When Miklan opened the drawer and pulled it out, it was wet to the touch. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?” Sylvain asked. 

“What’s there to tell? Besides, Dorothea probably already gave the whole story already. What’s the point in retelling it?” Miklan moved around Sylvain to toss the wilted lettuce into the trash can, Sylvain moving with him. They hadn’t been here very long, but Sylvain always had a sixth sense for where Miklan was in proximity to Sylvain. Miklan supposed that was his fault. He tried and failed to dredge up anything other than tiredness. 

“I still wanna hear it,” Sylvain said as Miklan pulled out their only fry pan. 

“He was an ass.” Miklan said as he reached for the last of the vegetable oil. “I dealt with it. End of story. Pass me the eggs.”

Miklan didn’t jolt as Sylvain pasted himself against Miklan’s back. “You’re no fun,” Sylvain whinged. Through the black leather jacket Miklan was wearing, he could feel Sylvain’s body heat. The kid was like a walking furnace. 

“Then you tell it,” Miklan said, disinterested. “Hey, I asked you to pass me the eggs. Can you do that, or should I tell Dorothea her boytoy is broken?” 

“You’re so mean, Miklan,” Sylvain grumbled. He put the eggs on the counter next to Miklan’s hand. Miklan clicked on the gas stove as Sylvain jumped up on the counter on the other side of the stove. Miklan glanced at Sylvain’s black skinny jeans with the purposefully ripped holes in the knees and wanted to scoff. He held his hand above the pan to see if it was hot yet. 

It was not. 

Miklan fried them both an egg each as Sylvain rattled on about anything and everything under the sun. After the eggs were cooked and sitting on a clipped blue and white plate they’d found at the local thrift store, Miklan turned and went to go cook the rice. It was broken short grain rice, the only kind they’d been able to afford when they went to the store last weekend.

Sylvain trailed off into silence while Miklan was washing the rice in the sink. Miklan flicked water off his fingers, his hands growing numb from the cold, and looked up at his little brother. Sylvain was wearing that brittle smile that meant he was thinking too much about dumb things. 

“What?” Miklan said. “I got something on my face?” 

Sylvain didn’t rise to the bait. Miklan stood there, waiting, as Sylvain leaned forward, one elbow on his bent knee, his chin resting on his fist. “Hey, Miklan,” Sylvain said softly, his brown eyes uncharacteristically somber, “Do you ever regret it?” What It was laid unspoken between the two of them, like a dead horse you could smell but had to pretend wasn’t there. 

“No,” Miklan said. “And neither should you.” 

Miklan turned and put their cheap Aroma rice cooker to boil. From behind him, Miklan heard Sylvain sigh. Miklan looked down at the thin scars running criss-cross up and down his thick paper white wrists, the sleeve of his blood red cotton shirt not long enough to cover them to his satisfaction. He felt a brief surge of the anger-hatred-pity, then pushed it back down again. 

Miklan had left that all behind when he took Sylvain and ran. He didn’t have time for it, not when Sylvain was trusting him to keep them warm and safe. Miklan swallowed thickly. “No,” he said, softer, “I don’t regret it.” 

Miklan was staring at the little pinkish-orange light on the rice cooker, listening to the sound of rice beginning to boil when he heard a loud thump. He was about to turn around and ask, What the fuck was that, Sylvain, when Miklan got slammed into the sharp edge of the counter by his annoying little brother. “Ow, fuck,” Miklan cursed. He twisted until he was facing Sylvain. 

Sylvain was clinging like a limpet, Miklan’s leather jacket clenched so tightly in his fists it was making a weird creaking sound, and Sylvain’s nose was smashed so closely against Miklan’s skin-tight shirt, he could feel it stir when Sylvain breathed. Miklan didn’t know what to do with his hands. His hands hovered uncertainly in the air before coming to rest hesitantly on Sylvain’s back. Sylvain took a long deep breath in like just this much was killing him. 

Slowly, Miklan tucked Sylvain’s head of hot dry hair under his chin. He brought up one hand and stroked the back of Sylvain’s head, wavy curls springing back into place after each pass of his heavy head. Miklan’s heart felt like it might be breaking, like a vase someone threw a rock at. 

Miklan remembers his mother holding him like this, once, after a nightmare. It was before Sylvain was born. Miklan doesn’t remember anyone holding him like this after Sylvain was declared heir. He wonders if he was supposed to be watching out for a reaction like this from Sylvain. They haven’t been gone that long. Long enough for Sylvain to pick up a girlfriend and for Miklan to pick up a job beating others black and blue for entertainment. 

When Miklan had gone back to pay his little brother back for all the times their dad looked at him like he was a disgusting little spittle barely worth his time, he hadn’t expected Sylvain to ask him to leave with him. And now they’re here, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in an apartment with no heat and no food and no dad riding their asses to kingdom come. 

Miklan holds Sylvain tight against his chest and tries to pretend that it’s enough, that the inside of his brain isn’t a hellscape few dare tread, that his anger isn’t molten lava waiting to overflow, that Sylvain isn’t going to get himself killed one day, stealing another guy’s girlfriend. It’s cold and dark outside, but for one single blindingly simple moment, Miklan tries to believe that good things can happen to bad people.

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

[hekxate]

burn until we meet again

[icarus-mp3]

[cherrypikkins]

the hopes and houses of gautier

done as a collab with @dimiclaudeblaigan who pitched the idea :333 thanks so much!!

[by-their-side]

sorry for the radio silence! i got sick and injured which delayed a lot of things and got other things on my plate! ; _ ; i focussed on rewriting the parts and i hope i can resume drawing soon so be able to post part 2! i will probably alternate between digital and traditional art and/or mix it up depending on what's more reachable for me.

here's one of my fav image from part/chapter 1!

[dvrtrblhr]

Can I please get Miklan teaching Sylvain how to clean a lance, or some other nice brotherly thing, for the drawing requests?

'you're doing it wrong, sylvain.' (6)

is this brotherly enough? i can't really draw miklan being gentle. though i like to think the gautier brothers shared a few good moments in what was, most of the time, a very very difficult relationship. and that, i think, would only make sylvain more messed up.

[mandalora]

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Gautier family anon needs to accept that any form of lust for the dad characters in FE3h is inherently freaky. They all have 2, 3 character traits if generous so lusting after them is a purely carnal affair. No one WANTS waldemar, they want spindly old dads

That being said I would bed Matthias Gautier as a ploy to kill him for both of his sons sake and I deserve the freaky emblem tag for it

.

[maiamars]

bound to destruction

[godly-feh-edits]

Miklan and Sylvain with Allied weapons 🤝✨

[spadefish]

stream comm for my wife :3 Miklan and Dimitri from one of our RPs (though I made mitya a little small here by accident, whoops)

[tygertyger413]

The Parallels Between Holst Goneril and Miklan Gautier

Holst and Miklan have a surprising amount of things in common: they're both from noble families that have traditionally protected Fodlan's borders from foreign invaders (House Goneril with Almyra and House Gautier with Sreng), they're both crestless (meaning they are unable to use their families' relics in defense of said borders), they both prove to be capable fighters and leaders despite lacking a Crest (Holst at Fodlan's Throat, Miklan with his bandit group in Houses/being given a generalship in Hopes), and they both have younger siblings who do have Crests (Hilda and Sylvain).

And yet their paths in life and attitudes towards their siblings couldn't be more different. Holst is the Hero of Leicester, the greatest general the Alliance has ever had, a man respected and beloved by just about everyone, and later becomes Duke Goneril after inheriting the title from his father. He also is a doting big brother to Hilda who adores her and is overprotective of her to an almost unsettling degree. Meanwhile Miklan canonically abused and tried to kill Sylvain multiple times before being disowned, and went on to become a leader of a group of bandits that terrorized Gautier, with his final fate either being transformed into a Demonic Beast after using the Lance of Ruin in Conand Tower and killed (Houses) or being conscripted into the Kingdom army and dying in defense of Arianrhod (Hopes).

Why?

If their beginning circumstances were so similar, then why did Holst's and Miklan's lives turn out so differently? Is the difference something inherent to their characters? Or is it something else?

Could the difference be in their family situations? We know from Hilda's supports with Byleth in Houses that their parents placed a lot of pressure on Holst to meet their high expectations, that it was stressful for him to live up to those expectations even though he could most of the time, and that on the rare instances he failed, he was devastated by people's disappointment. As for Miklan, we know that his birth mom died in a Sreng attack when he was young and his father became distant and emotionally closed-off following her death. Margrave Gautier later remarried (most likely out of the pressure/desire to have a Crested heir who could wield the Lance of Ruin), but Matthias's second wife did care about Miklan despite him not being her biological son, to the point of being hit hard by his death in Azure Gleam. It's never mentioned how Miklan felt towards his stepmother, though. Still, between the Gonerils' pressure and Matthias's "Wall of Ice" personality, it doesn't seem like either Holst or Miklan would be inclined to see their parents as a source of support.

Could the difference be in their societies? Compared to Fargheus, which puts more emphasis on martial prowess and duty (and thus values Heroes' Relics and consequently Crests for the ability to more effectively fight and defend one's people), Leicester is known for its merchants and its Roundtable politics, so Holst would've been able to leverage his family's money and connections (as well as his own charming personality) to convince people to give him a chance despite his lack of a Crest more effectively than Miklan could've in Fargheus. Additionally, Crests are not only valued for granting the ability to use a Hero's Relic, they are also seen as blessings from the Goddess, so the Holy Kingdom of Fargheus would see Crests as even more special for that reason, while the less devout Alliance wouldn't care as much about the religious significance of Crests.

Could the difference be in their education? We know Holst canonically attended the Officer's Academy, but we don't know if Miklan ever did; nothing says he didn't but Rodrigue probably would've at least mentioned it offhand if he did, given how much Rodrigue loves to bring up his old school days with Lambert. Of course, even if Miklan didn't attend Garreg Mach, it's not clear if it was due to a lack of interest on his part or his parents deciding it wasn't worth it for him. We do know that he still received an excellent education from his dad despite lacking a Crest, and he taught him everything he knows. Still, Holst attending the Officer's Academy while Miklan was homeschooled could've affected them in other ways, as Holst would have had the opportunity to form positive relationships with more people and expand his worldview, including the idea that Crests (or his lack thereof) didn't have to define him nor his ability to be successful.

Which leads into my next question: could the difference be Holst's friendship with Balthus? Seeing how much grief his best friend suffered from his stepmother due to having a rare Crest while her son didn't might've convinced Holst that having a Crest didn't make someone inherently better or luckier. Also, having someone who valued Holst as a person instead of for his Crest/crestless nature from a young age (Holst and Balthus have been friends since they were teens, if not earlier) would've helped Holst's self-worth. Meanwhile it's unclear if Miklan ever had any friends: Sylvain's friends all hate Miklan for obvious reasons, and Glenn (the only other person we know of who would've been close enough in age and location to possibly be friends with him) is just a huge unknown in general - though if Glenn was half the honorable knight he is described as by others, he would've hated Miklan too if he knew about Miklan's abuse of Sylvain. The closest thing Miklan would've had to friends at the time of Houses/Hopes is the group of bandits that he led, and even that was more likely a leader/subordinate relationship rather than true friendship.

Another thing to note: Holst's and Miklan's attitude towards Crests. Miklan hates the Crest system because it was the reason Sylvain was chosen as heir to House Gautier over him, and hates and abuses Sylvain for "taking what should've been his", telling Sylvain he "should've paid for that Crest," and ultimately stealing the Lance of Ruin in Houses (which could be interpreted as Miklan taking what he considers to be "his" inheritance, given that the name of the chapter where you fight him is called "The Gautier Inheritance"). Notably Miklan seems more mellow in Azure Gleam, where he's able to earn respect as a general despite his status as a disowned crestless noble and former criminal - which strongly suggests that most of his anger/hatred comes from envy for the power and prestige associated with having a Crest. Holst's feelings regarding the Crest system are never explicitly stated, but it is telling that the Book of Crestology is one of Holst's disliked gifts in Hopes. In Golden Wildfire, while Holst doesn't oppose the Church of Seiros as a whole, he also says "to accept the teachings of Seiros unquestioningly is to abandon reason itself", suggesting that Holst disagrees with the Church on at least some issues - as such, say, the importance of Crests. Yet unlike Miklan, Holst holds no resentment towards Hilda for being born with a Crest when he wasn't - if he does, he hides it very, very well. Which poses an interesting possibility: could Holst's protectiveness and excessive declarations of affection towards Hilda be compensation for any ill will he may have felt towards her in the past, even if he never acted on it? Or a reactionary psychological response to whenever he does feel resentful towards her? (I.E. countering any impulse to hate/hurt Hilda with the reminder that he DOES love his sister and wants to keep her safe.) Another possibility is that seeing Balthus getting along well with his crestless half-brother is what convinced Holst that Crests don't have to get in the way of him having a good relationship with Hilda.

I've written a lot on this topic already, but I just want to share some final thoughts: Azure Gleam shows that Miklan could have easily become a renowned general like Holst if given the investment and opportunity, especially the Reunion at the Fortress City chapter (where Gwendal calls him "Sir Miklan" after Miklan dies out of respect for Miklan's skilled defense of Arianrhod while it was under siege by the Empire). And if Miklan could've turned out like Holst, then Holst could've turned out like Miklan. And yet Holst was able to rise above his family's and society's expectations to become a great general, while Miklan was unable to move past his resentment and blamed others for circumstances of birth beyond anyone's control. What made the difference? We may never know for sure. Perhaps it was something inherent to who they are as people; perhaps it was one of the reasons listed above; perhaps it was multiple reasons or something else entirely. Comparing what little we know about these two still provides us with a fascinating character study, and I wish we knew more about them, their families, and their early years so that we could dive even deeper.

[hekxate]

gautier inheritance

[reneethegreatandpowerful]

The redheaded Lions are making mock battle breakfast plans. :D

This was a gift for my wonderful sister. <3

[cherrypikkins]

the complete request compilation :3 thanks again so much everybody who participated, I was able to learn a lot and improve my skill in such a short amount of time!