#Berserk imagine

[dollwrites]

the brainworms are brainworming soo… let’s talk about how possessive king!Griffith becomes over his queen.

ivory veils crafted from silk. parasols that catch the white rose petals the commoners rain down upon you. headpieces adorned with pure, white wings whose span careens around from the back of your head to spread across the bridge of your nose. your own kingdom’s population have never been allowed to gaze upon your countenance ( and you, in turn, never able to know what your subjects look like as their eyes gleam with awe at the king and his queen ) — only the lowest quarter on rare occasion. your soft lips as they curve to form the syllables of his name in a whisper before he juts his left shoulder into view, concealing you behind the glittering silver of his armor.

not even inside the palace walls are you permitted to be perceived. you are to hold on to one of his hands with both of yours, allow your husband to be your sight and guide you through seemingly endless corridors. each step you take, you count. you know how many it takes to reach each room in your palace, though you rarely see its magnificence for yourself. once inside the destination, your ladies in waiting as well as royal guard must leave the bedchambers before Griffith will run his willowy finger along the shape of your jaw. “Closed?” you know what the inquiry means, and you close your eyes behind their shield, before giving a subtle and obedient nod. the gentle tilt upwards, as his svelte digits slip beneath your eye covering, lifting it slowly, so as not to shock the delicate gems he keeps hidden away in darkness all day. “Slowly now, my pet.” he murmurs, the once rough pad of his fingertip feeling soft and delicate as it traces your temple, over your cheekbone, and down to your lips.

you are eager to see, but you allow your eyelids to flutter for a few beats before you open them. your vision restored, you glance around the familiar environment. the only room in your own home that you’d truly recognized.

“Very good girl. Take a moment to gather your bearings.”

you look around for a moment— take in the atmosphere. dim candles cast a warm, orange glow on the bed of silken sheets and on the man who sits in front of you upon them. “My love,” you utter, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as they flit upwards to catch his visage within them. he was as stunning as ever, with striking icy eyes and hair as soft and silver as the moon’s glow. “Why must I always hide myself?” it seemed almost disproportionate. if anything, it would be Griffith’s unearthly beauty worth concealing.

Griffith watches you with a stoic expression for a moment, his pout etching upwards into the ghost of a smirk that most would’ve missed. “You are mine, sweetling. As are the people of this kingdom. Every stone, every drop of rain, every blade of grass in this domain. But you are far more precious than any of those.” Griffith’s sapphire eyes seem to darken ever slightly, before he traces the shape of your lips, staring at them for a long moment. after a breath, they flicker back up and lock on to yours. “These eyes are priceless gems, finer than any that have ever been mined. And no man, woman, or child shall look upon them except for your king. They will never tear up, they will never glare. These eyes will only ever gaze up at me with desire and devotion. Your king. Your savior.”

[miniminiujb]

Entãooooo, faz um tempo que tive uma ideia para Berserk ksjs

E se o Griffith tivesse um irmão gêmeo? Eles tem uma relação muito fofa de irmãos, sempre se ajudam, não importa a situação (acho que vc já sabe onde eu quero chegar), e aí o irmão gêmeo do Griffith assumiria a culpa pelo oq o Griffith fez, passando por tudo que o Griffith passou.

Nesse caso, o b/n seria seria irmao do Griffith e assumiria a culpa por ele (cruel, eu sei). Na minha cabeça, o b/n teria como ler mentes e falar na cabeça das pessoas (seria assim que ele se comunicaria dps de perder a capacidade de falar), mas acho que seria mais legal se ele e o Griffith tivessem uma linguagem própria pra se comunicarem entre si.

Enfim, pode fazer um imagine assim? 🥺

A comunicação deles fica a seu critério skjs

Obrigada desde já! <3

Última Esperança

Sua respiração engatou, seus olhos se arregalaram quando diversos guardas do castelo circularam sua figura, lanças e espadas em volta do seu pescoço. Gritos estridentes saíam dos lábios dos soldados. Sendo levado para uma masmorra, onde foi amarrado, você não entedia o motivo daquilo, mas quando o rei passou pela a porta da sala em questão. Seus se apertaram levemente, tentando enxergar o que ele estava carregando nas mãos , seus olhos focaram na escuridão da sala, um chicote era carregado. Não demorou muito para aquele chicote ser colidido na sua pele. Gritos histérico saiam da boca dele, acusações de arruinar a pureza da filha dele. Na hora que aquelas palavras saíram dos lábios do rei, você sabia que o responsável era o seu irmão mais novo, Griffith. Se mantendo calado e aguentando as torturas cotidianas.

Seu corpo estava desnutrido, jogado em um canto da sala de tortura. Você já não sabia quanto tempo estava naquela masmorra, suas esperanças de sair com vida já estavam acabando. Sua cabeça era apertada com força, por conta do capacete de metal que você foi obrigado a usar. Seu corpo já não funcionava mais, seus tendões foram costados todos os dias, para que você não pudesse escapar.

Seus olhos sem esperança, observava a sala ao redor. Fechando lentamente os olhos, respirando profundamente, memórias percorriam sua mente, memórias que você não sabia se era invenção de sua mente ou não. Você questionou por muito tempo, se o Griffith não tinha armado para você, mas esse questionamento era logo esquecido. Você e o Griffith tiveram uma ótima ligação, vocês eram a única família que um e o outro tinha. Aprenderam a se comunicar com apenas um olhar.

Seus pensamentos depressivos foram interrompidos por um barulho de porta se abrindo, sua mente não conseguia prestar atenção nas vozes chamando por você, até que seu corpo foi erguido delicadamente para cima, seus olhos abrindo levemente, turvos e fracos. Sua visão focou em seu irmão, a mão delicadamente colocado sobre a capacete.

Você olhou dentro dos olhos do seu irmão, olhos que diziam muito.

"Estava perdendo as esperanças...", Você dizia através do olhar.

"Estou aqui por você, você está seguro agora" Griffith respondeu através dos olhos azuis.

[13eyond13]

The thing I respect most about Griffith Berserk is actually how ridiculously unsubtle with his hitting on Guts he is. Just IMMEDIATELY going up to him and literally grabs his face like "I realized I WANT you, now let me tell you exactly why." Like this isn't your typical suggestive homoerotic innuendo, this is just what he actually says. To the point Guts is just like, oh you mean like, in a gay way? And Griffith's just like... "*gay silence*" like idk you certainly can't blame the frustrating star-crossed lovers mutual piningness of their relationship on him being a bit too ambiguous about things or too cowardly to shoot his shot lol

[killercursor]

honestly, this shot's one of my favorites from this episode bc u can clearly see how hard loid's trying to compose himself when he saw that yor's face is swollen.

man was ready to fight someone for his fake wife.

[sondash360-art-blog]

The stupid crossover continues...

Bonus:

[maomango-doodle]

Inspired by @aidakhar 's dad!Knives AU (brainrot-inducing)

After venturing out, Azrael gets caught by ill-intentioned individuals

[farsight-the-char]

Sister Casca of the Band of the Hawk, by reddit user absurdistaoist

Reposted with Permission.

[a-a-a-anon]

appreciation post for Lise Mayer!! she co-wrote The Young Ones (and The Bachelor Boys book, additional material like when they did Comic Relief, etc), which is well known. but she also wrote for other things in the alternative comedy scene like Rik Mayall and Ben Elton's comedy tour (source: BBC Breakfast Time interview)! and, something I didn't know until recently: she co-wrote/wrote for Kevin Turvey! she's not credited in his television appearances, but see below for sources.

i really loved the podcast episode she did with Alexei Sayle about TYO, you gain a lot of insight into her perspective! she also mentions misogynistic treatment like being asked to go make tea when they were doing script readings, not getting invited to a big BBC party because it was presumed she'd be Rik's plus-one, and getting groped at the BBC bar. it pissed me off on her behalf and partly prompted this post.

some specific accolades/accreditation/fun facts:

Rik crediting her with writing/conceiving the Kevin Turvey non-joke "All right, biting political satire: What do Lech Walesea and Menachem Begin have in common? They’ve both got foreign names! What do you mean it’s not funny?" (x)

Alexei Sayle in Thatcher Stole My Trousers crediting Lise with co-writing Turvey: "Lise was, like Linda for mine, a vital part of Rik’s career, co-writing both The Young Ones and Rik’s character Kevin Turvey..."

a 1987 source for Lise co-writing Turvey: "The assumption that women do not write comedy scripts was one with which Lise Mayer, co-writer of The Young Ones television series, has also had to contend. She started writing for Rik Mayall’s Kevin Turvey in the television series A Kick Up the Eighties..." (x)

Rowland Rivron (comedian who toured with The Comic Strip gang and lived with Rik and Lise) in What the f*** did I do last night?: "[Lise] also had the unenviable job of standing at the side of the stage when Rik was performing, and jotting down anything he said that was unscripted. If it got a laugh, it would be woven into the next night’s routine."

the only time i've ever seen a Rik Mayall/Ade Edmondson/Lise Mayer writing credit: for a poem called Distance which was collected in this anthology! Rik and Ade seem to have acted it out (or at least a version of it) in this 20th Century Coyote performance

Rik on Lise writing TYO: "‘She discovers different things: the comedy of embarrassment and awkwardness – she draws out the cheating and stealing that goes on in the house.’" (x) (Lise also says her "favorite comedy was always the comedy of embarrassment" in the Alexei Sayle podcast)

Rik: "... Lise Mayer wrote this great scene where I find a tampon in a handbag and it's my birthday party and I think it's a present because my character is Rick, who is such a git, he didn't know." (x)

Helen Lederer in Not That I'm Bitter, writing about being on The Young Ones: "[Lise] was known to be the brains behind it all, particularly the more surreal elements…"

she and Rik chose the bands (x)

Lise: “We’d have a table read at which point we’d discover that the script ran over an hour long, and then I’d have a sleepless night editing it.” Alexei: “You did that?” Lise: “Usually me, yeah…” (she later explains they'd present the script Monday and rehearsals were Tuesday, Wednesday-so she literally had one night to edit!) (x)

facts from the blu-ray commentary tracks:

Rick's yellow dungarees in Interesting were based off a picture of Lise in a similar pair

Lise wrote an essay about the tampon joke in Interesting so that the BBC didn't cut the scene (though they still edited it)

Paul Jackson (producer) credits Lise with arguing "you are seriously telling me that we cannot refer on television to something that happens to 50% of the population for about 30 years of their life? and we're not allowed to even refer to it" to make an executive back off about the tampon joke in a meeting

Lise came up with Neil's flowerpot covering in Nasty

Vyvyan/Vivian's name comes from Lise having lived in Vyvyan Terrace, Bristol

Lise thought of the cast switching costumes in Bambi (one of my favorite moments!!) (/end of commentary track facts)

this is guesswork, but i've seen Ben Elton and Rik Mayall's handwriting and i'm pretty sure the editing/handwriting on the bottom left on this script must be Lise's, which gives insight into what/how she wrote: (x)

i feel like it's easy for people to overlook or minimize Lise's impact, something that happens to female creators far too often. i hate when women's identities are framed around their association to a man-girlfriend to Rik in this case-which was the norm whenever i saw Lise discussed in articles/books/online discussions about TYO. it's important to know she was a writer and co-creator with her own identity and (underappreciated) contributions. The Young Ones (and Kevin Turvey, and things we don't even know she goes uncredited for) would not have been the same—or wouldn't have even existed—without her!

[dollwrites]

Can I request Griffith for the I will ruin you prompt if it isnt already taken?

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), fingering, mentions of mindbreak, size kink, it might tow the line between consensual and dub con, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i made a few tweaks to the prompt to fit it into the fic, but the backbone is still there! please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

you had underestimated the task the king had set for you, and you found yourself at a loss for words, a loss for breath, as you squirm against the floor. the fire roars in the hearth, flames licking outward, reaching for you, as you bathe, naked in the orange glow. light catching the glistening diamonds of perspiration on your skin, your back arches.

“Count Griffith!”

it’s a hoarse gasp, a plea for mercy as his head bobs between your clenched thighs. your legs desperately tried to squeeze him out, to keep his supple lips from kissing your core, his mad tongue from swirling around your clit, but you couldn’t. your feet follow the trail of his spine, coasting as far down his toned back as you could, whilst both of your hands gripped silky, silver tresses.

you were so sensitive to his caress, his lips so skilled in the way that they meld against your curvature and his tongue gliding over your swollen bundle, rubbing you silly with his tastebuds, that you could hardly think.

“T—the stories about you… they’re more than goss— uh!” it was hard to finish your sentence, when his middle finger slips in below his working mouth, prodding you open and then pumping deep and slow. “—gossip!!”

“Stories…” Griffith muses, finally granting you a moment as he pulls his mouth from you. his digit curls, knuckle deep, beckoning for your body to to rock to meet the motion, but his icy eyes flicker up to you, before his swollen pout blazes a trail of white, hot kisses up your belly, over your chest, and finally to your jaw. he mutters, in a low and husky tone, meant for you and you alone. “The people of the kingdom gossip about me?” he questions, the muscles in his arm tight as his fingertips stroke your sensitive nerves from the inside. he’s slow and calculated in his movements, guiding your figure to writhe up and down like a winding snake beneath his weight, smothered by his body heat. his breath is warm against your open lips as he hovers there. “What have you heard?” his sapphire gems search your pleasure-twisted face, as if deep in thought, examining every twitch.

your brows knit together as you reach down and hold on to his wrist, your legs hanging helplessly in the air, bent at the knee, on either side of his waist, your hips bucking to the slowness of his pumping. but your eyes, as hazy and lust-heavy they may be, stare up at him, your voice shaky. “That you will break a woman.” you answer through a flustered moan, “Count Griffith, leader of the famed Band of the Hawk, will ruin a wom—woman for all other men..!”

Griffith only stares for a moment, before pulling his finger free from you. you elicit a soft, partially disappointed gas as you squirm, but when he sits back on his knees between your legs, you become entranced by his visage. his naked form, the way his hair cascades over his chest when he tucks his chin downward, watching his own hand wrapping around his thick cock. he’s hardening, quickly as he strokes himself, using the slick on his fingers from your body and a faint, dribble of spit from his lips that rains down on the head, soon worked into the enticing muscle. your stomach seems to knot up at the sight, as if your body can already tell it has plenty of stretching to do to accommodate him.

“Yes,” he answers simply, draping the heaviness of his cock over your lower belly, as if demonstrating just how deep he will go when he’s inside. his icy gaze raises to lock on to yours, but you were too busy staring down at his sex as he teased you, eyes wide. “I will ruin you for any men that follow.” a faint smile etches his soft lips as he guides his cock downward, dragging the squishy tip over your clit for a moment before splitting your netherlips to ease you open. “I will ruin you and you will love it. You will seek me out forever, and you will start to beg me for it. To be ruined relentlessly.”

you hiss through your teeth when the head slips inside, your back arching off the floor, knees tucking inward against him, but he plants a firm hand on your collarbone to keep you from squirming, pushing your chest back down, and a soft moan erupts from his lips, his eyes trained, now, on your sex as he shoves his inches into you. “Be sure to thank your King, little servant girl,” he croons, before his thumb grazes your throat, caressing it as you pant and mewl, “if not for his generosity for sending you to me as a gift of good will, you would never experience such a passionate fucking as the one I will give you tonight.”

[miniminiujb]

Poderia fazer um imagine do Puck? Onde o leitor tbm é um elfo

Defendendo o Puck

Seus olhos se arregalaram quando Guts empurrou Puck com força para longe. Você voou na direção do humano rápido, dando um tapa forte no rosto dele. Se afastando antes que Guts pudesse pegar você.

"Seu rude! Puck curou suas feridas e você faz isso?", Você disse bravo, voando para se aproximar de Puck. Colocando as duas mãos nas bochechas gordinhas dele. "Você está bem?", Você perguntou recebendo um aceno de cabeça.

"Eu não pedi para ele me curar! Seus vermes", Guts disse bravo, ignorando vocês e começando a andar para longe.

"Puck você não pode deixar o Guts tratar você assim...", Você disse deixando um selar na bochecha rosada dele.

"Eu sei B/n...", Ele disse com a voz baixa. Pegando a mão dele e voando na direção em que o Guts estava indo.

"Vocês ainda estão me seguindo?", Guts falou bravo, entrando em um bar. Você suspirou, vocês entraram e ficaram sentados no balcão. Olhando para o conteúdo do copo de Guts e percebendo uma azeitona, você se aproximou devagar e enfiou as mãos dentro do copo e pegando a azeitona. Recebendo um peteleco pelas as costas, você se virou mostrando a língua para o humano.

Andando para perto da figura de Puck, e entregando nas mãos dele. "Coma, vou ir buscar mais coisas", você disse recebendo um grande sorriso do outro elfo, antes de você voar pelo o bar.

[diegowife]

Guts ( Millennium Falcon / Fantasia Arc)

Guts As Your Boyfriend SCENARIO

A Bit Yandere ¿

Contains MANGA SPOILERS

( REMINDER! ) This is NOT connected with the Golden Age Arc ( Part 1 ).

Part 1 : Pre-Eclipse

• During the relationship, Guts displayed a noticeable lack of enthusiasm and was not particularly talkative. Moreover, he struggled with maintaining lasting romantic connections and admitted to being less than proficient in this domain. His discomfort with ongoing intimate interaction was evident.

• You remain the most significant individual in Guts' life despite the tranquility he experienced while being in your presence.

• Demonstrating his dedication to you, physical contact emerges as the foremost and conspicuous means. Whether through gentle caresses on the head, tousling of your hair, or embracing you from behind, he conveys his affection.

• Despite this fact, when you suddenly embrace him, he may become somewhat bewildered. This could be attributed to the limited experience he had in receiving hugs or displays of affection during his childhood.

• When it comes to processing his emotions or receiving honest declarations of love, he tends to struggle and demonstrate rather unfavorable behavior.

• A favored and swift gesture of Guts is to place tender kisses upon your forehead. Whether in departure or amid a battle with an apostle, this affectionate act brings him joy. The sensation of his lips lightly caressing your warm forehead is also cherished by him.

• Despite being somewhat lacking in terms of kissing skills, he thoroughly enjoys receiving hugs. He finds them particularly necessary, especially during instances when he is actively experiencing a terrifying nightmare or being persistently pursued by a relentless entity within his dreams.

• Insecurity often plagues Guts due to the loss of his right eye and left arm. He is unable to fully perceive your majestic presence with both his eyes, nor can he embrace or cuddle you effectively without his left arm.

• “Never would I be able to cease gazing upon you if my right eye still remained with me...”

• “If there's a way where I could restore my left arm, I would gladly hug you ceaselessly throughout the day, causing you to struggle for breath.”

• In return, the way you indulging him as the little spoon brings him great delight, with little regard for his characteristics or the absence of other features.

• Furthermore, Guts took great pleasure in observing you as you compared your tiny hands to his own. He playfully mocked your stature and expressed his hopes for you to surpass him in height.

• “What a midget. Can you at least grow an inch taller than me?”

• Guts' sleep patterns are usually limited to daytime hours. His neck bore the scars of brands, haunting him with nightmares and causing him to experience PTSD, thus preventing him from obtaining decent rest at night.

• In one of his nightmares, the idea of you abandoning him fills him with revulsion. It seems as though you continuously eluded him or attempted to break free from his clutches, further intensifying his aversion.

• In the same way, his greatest fear resides in the idea of you betraying him, much like his closest companions once did. The notion of placing excessive trust in you fills him with dread, as he is haunted by the possibility of another act of betrayal.

• In his affection, he will always perceive and observe you without any apprehension towards his own well-being. Hence, he continues to regard you as reliable and unproblematic.

• “In this vast world, where thousands of humans and apostles reside, you stand out as an exception. Can I assume that you won't follow the same path as everyone else, will you?”

• When the moment arrived to present a gift, he would frequently seek Schierke and Farnese for suggestions.

• Subsequently, an inventive notion would emerge from their minds, wherein Guts would grant you a mystical stone conjured by the magical abilities of Schierke.

• Upon receiving the stone, Guts couldn't suppress his smile of admiration at witnessing your appreciation for the gift he had bestowed upon you.

• The stone's discovery, he would deceive you about it.

• “It seems that you quite enjoyed it, didn't you? I must say I am pleased about it. If only I could accumulate it further and present it to you...”

• Observing him smile is a rare occurrence, but the subtle curvature of his lips, exclusively directed towards you, instantly sparks a sensation of being uniquely valued.

• Puck, the mischievous little companion, often draws attention away from Guts, igniting feelings of envy within him. Guts' emotions are further aggravated as Puck relishes in mocking him.

• In light of Guts persistently taunting and repeatedly demanding Puck's silence, this can be perceived as an act motivated by revenge from Puck.

• “Y/n, don't waste your time talking with that little shit.”

• “Pardon me! What was that name you just referred to me as, Mr. Nuts The Madman!?” Puck raised his voice, crossed his arms, and averted his gaze.

• Guts also possess a great deal of jealousy towards the excessive concern and care that Serpico, Schierke, and Farnese exhibit towards you. They frequently inquire about your well-being and assume responsibility for your welfare during illness.

• Considering that you don't have any abilities and are just a regular human being... that Guts will protect from the bottom of his heart.

• Isidro, in a similar fashion, will express admiration towards you and persistently request Guts for permission to marry you. Consequently, Guts will proceed to discipline Isidro by subjecting him to a time-out, wherein Isidro will be securely bound to a tree and left undisturbed.

• “Guts! Are you kidding me?! Y/n, help me!!!”

• “Tch serves you right, puny little runt.”

• Furthermore, Guts is a person who tends to overanalyze situations. Whenever he witnesses you feeling upset or, in the worst-case scenario, crying, he will instinctively attribute the blame to himself.

• Your tears are a complete turn-off for him, as they evoke memories of his childhood. Essentially, every aspect of your presence resonates with his youthful past.

• Initially, his curiosity will be piqued upon witnessing you have emotionally broken as you steadfastly decline any form of communication or elucidation with him.

• When he saw tears streaming down your face...

• It will constantly trigger him.

• Perpetually shattering is his heart whenever the thought of it crosses his mind; he holds the belief that he is a disappointment to his late father.

• When witnessing his lover's tears, can the blame be placed on him?

• In the depths of his thoughts, there has been no solace bestowed upon him by anyone. Absolutely nobody. He was firmly deserted, bereft of any companionship.

• In what manner should he navigate people's emotions? It has become customary for him to observe civilians experiencing breakdowns due to the apostle's destruction of their villages.

• In due course, hesitantly drawing you nearer, he envelops you with his arms around your waist and rests his chin atop your head. Subsequently, he proceeds to wipe each tear gently and ensures no remnants are remaining.

• Guts remains indifferent to whether or not you wish to explain to him. It is of no importance to him if you choose not to share or release your emotions.

• To ease your mind, Guts will grant you a portion of a gift he presently possesses once you have settled down.

• "Don't be sad. Take a look at this jewelry that was generously bestowed upon me by Farnese. They serve as a token of appreciation for my courageous role as one of her esteemed warriors."

• After the development of the Berserker Armor, Schierke takes extra precautions to prevent Guts from approaching you in any way. Moreover, she emphasizes the importance of keeping a distance.

• In the presence of your company, Guts harbors a fear of relinquishing control over his Berserker Armor. It is a concern that at any given moment, he may impulsively obliterate you without allowing rational thought to guide his actions.

• Ordinarily, Guts would have an intense anger when an apostle approached and attempted to separate you from him. Ultimately, he would slaughter the vile creature with a single blow of his sword.

• With every moment you drift off to sleep, he is fully conscious of observing each contour of your body. Also, with utmost certainty, he would ensure your safety and prevent anyone from causing harm or separating you from his presence.

• Observing your intense shivering, Guts' left eye widened, prompting him to remove his cloak and tenderly envelop you within its comforting fabric.

• Furthermore, he longed to recline beside you and experience the comforting sensation generated by the warmth emanating from your physique.

• In his dreams, he is filled with fear that if he snuggles up to you, apostles will come after him. Consequently, he may inadvertently unleash his Berserker Armor, losing control over it. This poses a risk of unintentionally harming you while you are asleep.

• While you peacefully doze, he exhibits his capability solely in the gentle stroking of your hands.

• Without your knowledge, he will softly utter something inaudible.

• “I love you, although you can't hear my words right now...”

• “I'll be with you... for eternity.”

Thank you so much for reading !

Sorry if there are any terrible grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

;(

[arbuthnotblob]

Sometimes I think he should get Outrage berserker powers, as a treat! Just lay eyes on Giovanni and spontaneously combust into red-blue flames - saves all the hassle of even getting Dragonite out to use Hyper Beam 😌

[Lance Week 2023, Day 3 - Superpower, Emergency Pinch Sketch]

[dragonbornphoenix]

Draco as an animagus. That'll be all. Thank you for coming to my presentation. 🐍

[boldlygloriousqueen]

Three Connected Souls -

Part 1: Two Souls

Griffith x Oc x Guts

Just a quick warning! This series will have smut, sexual @ssault and the alluding of it, cursing, toxic/controlling behaviors, obsessions/possessiveness, non-con, blood, and violence.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warning for this chapter: SLIGHT VIOLENCE

"Little princess, where have you gone? Princess Daphne! Why must you make everything so difficult for me?!"

A lady with black hair ran through the halls in search of the young girl who watched the lady from above the second floor. The woman seemed close to yanking out all her hair out of frustration with the child she lost. The missing young girl had light brown hair that was braided up and soft hazel eyes that followed the women as she searched the halls. The girl remained silent and bent down to hide her small figure from the woman while her hands gripped the poles of the balcony.

Once the woman was out of her eyesight, she stood up and walked towards the stairs. She slipped off her heels that looked rather plain. As a matter of fact, so was her dress. It was mainly white and yellow and had no special patterns or a single jewel rested upon it. She might have been able to pass as a maid. Daphne was never one to wear expensive dresses as in her mind there were "better ways for money to be spent" given the midlands' current state. Most ten year old princesses and nobles didn't have the same mindset as Daphne, which would explain why her father spoils her rotten in any way he could.

The princess ran down the steps, pattering her feet on the cold material with a stern face. She was upsets, very upset nonetheless. One thing Daphne hated most in the world was when promises were broken. While running through the halls, she held her dress slightly up to allow more movement for her small legs. Her hazel eyes were set on a large door engraved with golden designs. There, her father, the king, and his loyal commanders often discussed war and political issues. These were most important for the survival of Mindland, but Daphne did not care. She was a child, after all, and her mind was set on bursting into the doors demanding for her father to take her to the festival the towns people had every year on the same day. It was clear that Daphne could be mature at times, but she still acted like a child on other occasions.

This festival wasn't just any kind of festival, not to the princess. It was a festival that was meant to ask for the King and Midland to be blessed with good fortune during these hard times. People sell all kinds of sweets, dress in costumes, dance, and sing, but the princess's favorite time of the festival was when they lit the fireworks. Sure, she could watch that from the balcony of her room, but it was more fun to watch in person and see the common people smile. She could see that the festival was a few times people seemed to forget about the death and fighting outside the walls. It also helped her to forget.

Before the princess had the chance to create further rumors about her unladylike manners, a young boy emerged from the room. He had long white hair and blue eyes and was dressed like a nobel's son, though he was far from it. Rather, a playmate for the young princess who made a first good impression in front of the King when he was found roaming around in the courtyard. No one knew how he got in, but he did. He was described to look quite rugged, and he was skin and bones. He managed to avoid alerting any guards that interested the King. The man always enjoyed being surprised by people who proved to be of some use and so this young boy that came from the war room, was a boy full of undoutable potential, but potential isn't always enough to reach your dreams, your desires so at what cost would someone like this chose to pay?

"Griffith!" Daphne waved one of her hands up to catch his attention.

Daphne was fond of Griffith without a doubt. He never spoke behind her back like other children and adults did. He was someone who made her feel safe, and she felt that he was the only one in this castle she could share her secrets with. Of course, she was a girl so it was safe to say she had a bit of a crush on him as most young girls did when they met him, but in the eyes of adults the princess was merely happy to have someone to play with. The boy's eyes pierced the princess, but without any malicious intent. He always had that look in his eyes, like he was always chasing after something he couldn't quite reach. The smile that came after suited his face, Daphne felt the room brighten with his presence and brought a soft red hue to her cheeks as he closed the door softly, behind him.

"Princess Daphne, what brings you here?"

"A-ah, is my father inside?" Griffith's smile widened at her shyness. Griffith knew of the princess's feelings towards him. If he had to, he'd use those feelings for his own use. They belonged to him in his eyes to begin with.

"I'm afraid he is busy, princess. I do hope you do not plan to create a big ruckus. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," Griffth walked closer to Daphne, who was pouting her lips.

"Father promised we'd attend the festival like we always do."

"I don't think that will be possible this year, princess. Your father won't be finished anytime soon." Griffith's eyes traveled down to Daphne's feet to see her barefoot were missing then to the heels in her hand.

"Princess, why aren't you wearing your heels. The floor is cold. What if you were to get sick." Griffith bent down onto one of his knees and held his hand up for Daphne to hand him one of her shoes. She furrowed her brow and hid the shoes behind her back.

"Griffith, are you my friend?" The boy stared at her slightly confused.

"Yes, of course, princess."

"Then, from now on, stop calling me princess. It just Daphne."

"But-"

"And stop acting like you're some servant. You shouldn't do this for anyone, not even me. I can take care of myself," the girl sat the two shoes down, then slipped her feet in one by one while holding her dress up for a better view. She held her hands on her hips and held her head slightly up.

"See, this is nothing."

Griffith chuckled while he stood back up. Daphne felt her cheeks burn up worse than it did before. With him being so close to her, she never noticed the slight difference in their height.

"You're right, my mistake. From now on, I won't coddle you as mush. I'm sure you already deal with that enough from everyone, but if there is anything you ever need from me, I'll always be there for you, Daphne."

Things like this were the reason Daphne was so close to Griffith. She couldn't see a life without him. Anyone else would have told the princess they couldn't do what Griffith because of the difference in their 'class'. A large smile grew on Daphne's face, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Griffith patted the innocent young girl's hair and rested his head a top of hers. He fond himself getting more use to the girl. He promised the moment he met her that she would br nothing more than a pawn for his dream and while that steal might the case, he was getting attached to the girl to the point he'd do anything to keep her at his side. He never met someone so unselfish, unlike himself. Her uncle would have been furious at the sight. He never liked Griffith. He always saw him as another one of his problems to deal with.

"Princess!"

The young children could hear someone yelling from the distance. Griffith took the princess's hand, and they both shared a thought together, and without saying a single word, they ran out to the garden.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

"It's so pretty, Griffith." Daphne admired the wooden bracelet that was delicately carved and carefully tied around her wrist. Daphne and Griffith wore hoods as they walked the streets.

"It doesn't compare to your jewelry collection, but I'm glad you enjoy it." His fingers grazed her cheeks softly, having the same smile he always had when looking at her.

"I'm glad you carry that with you. It suits you," Daphne pointed to the sword hidden in the scabbard on his hip.

"Does it not scare you?"

"Why would it when your the one who's wearing it? The only people who should worry about you with that sword are the evil people in this world. Besides, you've been training a lot lately. I'm sure your an expert and... soon you could... possibly teach me to use one some day."

"I could have sworn your father said no," he spoke with an amused smile knowing Daphne's intent with the subject.

"My father is an overprotective old man who doesn't understand that I'm growing up. You never know when I'll need to use one, and it's better to be safe than sorry," the princess continued, "I should know how to protect myself. What if you are not around? Would you really trust my life with just anyone?" Griffith spoke his head, the same smile remaining.

"I suppose I wouldn't."

-Boom-

The two swiftly moved their heads to the direction of the noise, and there they saw the beautiful fireworks that lit the sky. Along came from cheers and praise from the townsfolk. Daphne found it fascinating that someone found a way to light the sky with festive colors. It seemed like something that would take up a lot of time to create, but she could never grew tired of watching them. She grabbed a hold of Griffith's arm and rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes on the fireworks.

"Do you remember what you told me when we first met? About you having a dream?"

"I do," Griffith responded as his eyes went from the fireworks to the castle in the distance.

"What is your dream?"

"What I want...." he paused for a long second before breathing out a soft sigh. "That's a secret, little princess."

"Ha? Friends are supposed to share secrets with each other. You know all of mine."

"Mm, I'll tell you one day when the time is right, so don't pout."

"You promise to tell me?" Her eyes stared up at him wanting reassurance.

"I promise. Just be patient. Haven't you heard that patience is-"

"Key? Yeah, yeah. I've heard this all before. You're starting to sound like my father now. I think it was time for you to stop joining them in that war room. You might end up becoming like him,"

"I'd could never. I fear you might grow tired of me," he gently poked her nose. Happiness smeared all over her face from his touch.

"And what about you, Daphne? What are your dreams?" He asked curiously.

"....I want to help the people of Midland in any way I can, but as of now, I can not do that as I know too little," Griffith flinched slightly at her words. Most girls her age would speak of marriage, having a family, or keeping family content. Yet the princess is more concerned for others rather than herself.

"I will become Queen no matter what. I will learn until my brain hurts, I'll even be willing to ride into battle so everyone knows how serious I am. People are always worried about the next time their families eat or what war will take their children away from them," The princess pulled away from Griffith and held a fist to her heart. "When I become Queen, it will be the last thing they have to worry about."

Griffith held his head down as he stared at the ground with wide eyes. This was something he truly didn't expect her to hear. He knew the kind heart she held, but he didn't think she had that much kindness. In a way... she was reminding him of himself. The princess didn't stop there. She continued to talk further about her dreams, but the more she talked, the more Griffith zoned out into his own thoughts. How could he ever let someone like her go? She was exactly like him, no... maybe even better... different? The mere thought of it brought a devilish smile to his face that was covered by his long hair.

"You are truly delightful, Daphne,"

The princess turned towards Griffith who was mumbling. "What was that-" before she could finish her question she felt a strong force push her down.

"Hey, can't you see!" Daphne yelled at the perpetrator who had a scrunched up face. He was a young boy who had short hair that stuck up. His hair almost reminded her of a raven. He had a noticeable scar on his nose and he seemed to have the look of someone who knew not a single bit of happiness. Oddly, he held a sword on his back that seemed way too big for someone his size and height.

"Daphne! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Griffith touched the young girl's face as he scanned her body. "You should be aware of your surroundings. You could have easily hurt her." Griffith stared up at the rough looking boy who seemed to care less as he searched his surroundings.

"Maybe next time she shouldn't be in the way," he spoke coldly before running through the crowd. Daphne was stunned to see the boy run off without even apologizing and she couldn't stand how rude he was towards them.

"I'm going to kill that jerk!" Daphne stood onto her feet and began her chase as Griffith started his after to princess.

[sailorgundam308]

I have this headcanon about berserker Karlach where she simply loses control of her rage.

(It’s based on a type of berserker rage that exists in DND and my own OC’s canon)

Kinda like her moment after defeating the paladins of Tyr - but worse. Much worse and chaotic, more violent and less aware.

-

I keep thinking what if she went berserk like that during the blood war - pure blind carnage, no consciousness? It could happen sometimes after she consumes a soul coin, when she has a close call, and, bam - she goes NUTS. She slashes through enemies and allies and anything in her way. Until she drops down, having quite literally run out of fuel.

-

What if one day Astarion is in a very bad situation, suffering or close to death - or she thinks he’s been killed? What if, even without a soul coin, she just loses it?

Her eyes aflame - when she screams you can see the glow of hellfire inside her throat. She turns into something TERRIFYING. It’s like seeing the true Demonsbane of the Blood War right there in the Sword Coast. It’d catch her unexpectedly. The sight of something so overpowered unleashed would seem horrifying for those looking.

It would then become clear why Zariel put her in the frontlines.

-

I assume once she’s done with raging (someone might have to incapacitate her just to make her stop), she takes all damage and pain at once, collapses unconscious and burning from the inside for days. She’s not supposed to burn so hot outside of Avernus.

Even in Avernus, going berserk like this would put her out of commission for s while, and she’d need repairs. Even if she could predict or control it, raging like that should be unnecessary outside of the Blood War. So when it happens in Faerun, it’s sort of a stunning thing to behold.

[enden-k]

fgo x hsr collab would legit kill me