littlecomet

[nefastum]

#12daysofcasca Prompt: Doll

Makeup time~

A young Casca and Griffith getting "dolled up" and playing with cosmetics together ^ ^ There is a full headcanon to this, which I will put below ♡

When Griffith was little, he found himself curiously watching the "ladies of the night” reapplying their lip tint outside of taverns. Eventually, one day, he asked them what it was. The child was promptly told to "get lost", but years later while picking through goods the small band had 'acquired' from a nobleman's carriage, he found an ornately painted cockleshell compact with lip rouge tucked into gift wrapping. He took it with him, and late one night curiosity got the better of him, and he tried putting it on.

It became a routine for him, and when Casca joined the band, he taught her about cosmetics as a way to bond and help her feel less out of place in the mercenary group. Casca is enamored by how pretty the angelic boy Griffith is and is giddy to learn from him. As the years roll on, whenever they can procure new shades and tints, they will try them out together.

[philosophicalparadox]

Let's have fun with feelings!

Originally I was going to submit this for the 12 days of Casca event, but it just didn't seem to fit most of the prompts, and its really angsty, so eh 🤷

EDIT: it's been updated with what will probably be the final version of this scene, and the official title of the fic. I finally had enough chapters compiled to come up with a fitting title. :) I've also trimmed it down via line break so it's not wall-o-text on my poor followers feed. It's a few character-thought paragraphs longer though I must say.

Anyway, have a scene/chapter from the WIP I keep changing the name of - now officially called Never Sleep Alone. I've tossed around with a title for this for a while but that one's sticking for now. Sums up the theme pretty well. :p

Slightly NSFW; nothing too overtly sexy but there's a hurt/comfort-sex vibe and implications thereof.

Pairing: Griffith x Casca - Almost. :) Underpinnings of Griffith x Guts. Griffith is Confused with a capital C.

Context: this is a Griffith-stops-Guts-from-leaving fic, and this scene happens when Casca seeks Griffith out after events on the hill, before he can get into trouble with Charlotte...or anyone else, in theory. Buuuuut.....well. That's not quite how Griffith works, unfortunately.

NOTE: Braies are the medieval equivalent of underwear.

Enjoy!

Casca knew where he was headed; she didnt have to think as her feet studiously brought her before the Noble-quarters Griffith was staying in whilst in Wyndam on behalf of the king while his own manor received it's reconstruction. It was in a high-brow neighborhood of course, a light reddish tint to the White wash on Griffith's dwelling making it distinct from the other town-homes on either side of it.

Casca moved without much thought or consideration as she went through the motions of inviting herself inside. It had been a long, confusing, emotional evening, and if she was this strung out, she knew Griffith was at least twice as bad.

The housekeep were polite and understanding, though they seemed at once quite unsettled, though she could only guess at why. One of them, a swarthy, sun kissed old woman, did remark briefly that they had heard him "moving things about" upstairs, and that when he had let himself in earlier, he seemed very pensive and hadn't said a word to anyone. Casca wasn't sure she knew what they meant by "moving things around", but she wasn't sure of a lot of things right now, except that Griffith, despite successfully disarming Guts - and nearly taking his leg in the process - had to be hurting right now. In fact, she quite confidently knew he was struggling right now. How he was dealing with it, like so many things tonight, she was not sure of; but she recognised when her instincts were trying to tell her something, and right now they were telling her to go to him, before he did something he would regret.

If there was one thing she knew about Griffith better than anyone, it was his tendency to act out or become some flavor of weird and reclusive when he felt down. Often that manifested as shutting himself in his tent for two days, barely eating a thing; sometimes it meant he would take a long walk by himself or ride away to some unknown place for a few hours. Other times she would come upon him dressed down to his braies, shivering himself into sensibility by letting the cold numb him. She tried not to disturb him too much when he was like this, unless she thought he was hurting himself too badly; and she would have let him alone tonight. But she had a feeling, deep in her gut, that he would end up doing exactly that if she didn't keep an eye on him.

"Griffith?" She called, rapping her knuckles on his bedroom door. "It's Casca. I just...wanted to see how you're doing. Make sure you're okay." She struggled with the words in her mouth as though they were chewed fat, sticky and awkward. A few moments passed, and in the time there was not a sound to be heard from the other side of the door. She went to tap the wood again with the back of her hand, but stopped when he finally responded.

"Come here." He called back quietly, his voice surprisingly even, though he sounded a little raspy. Casca paused, her intuition finding some issue with the invitation. It wasn't the stunning formality she was used to, and though that made her happy on some level, that he would drop the ruse to invite her in, it also heightened her concern. She shook the nerves away and opened the door - to find a sight she'd of better assumed to be the work of a determined house theif than the man before her.

Papers were strewn about everywhere, his desk where they had presumably been settled was wildly ajar, it's fresh-scuffed surface betraying the violence with which it was put into that position, with drawers shuddered open and edges chipped and notched. A simple, long dagger stood glinting from its splintered top, and suddenly the notches and scratches in its leading edge made a cold kind of sense. Even the curtain on his bed was ripped from its stays and had clearly been mutilated by the very same blade. 'Moving things about indeed' she surmised - but the idea was far from amusing. Instead a heavy dread settled into her gut like a stone, recognizing the handiwork of rage and pain that she would have never presumed her commander capable in this disaster of a room; she hated herself for it, but she'd of been lying if she said it didn't intimidate her, on a subconscious level. She'd never seen Griffith lose his temper, not ever, so seeing such a wanton display - accentuated by the dagger, plunged so deep into the wood he'd of had to throw his whole weight atop it - definitely scared her.

"Don't." Griffith broke the stiff, heavy silence with a small plea. "Don't be frightened of me." He looked up at her from where he stood, braced against the window ledge with his hands, his body awkwardly slumpy and clearly tired - it wasn't until then that Casca noticed that, in spite of how level he sounded, he was just as much of a wreck as the room. Young bruises and a few scrapes of blood coloured his knuckles, vivid against his milky skin. He had on his neck the faintest flush of pink and a thin veneer of sweat, and his breathing was more ragged than it sounded. But it was his eyes that truly gave him away - fading signs of bloodshot eyes and a wavering, barely-focused view told her stories of tears that had since dried and retreated from view.

And she understood, in that moment, how deeply she had underestimated his attachment - and maybe affection - to Guts.

Her thoughts were swirling. 'I knew something happened between them. Guts was so determined - and, like it or not, he was always going to win that fight. He was always going to win - you don't have the strength to best him anymore, and you both knew that; hell, if I knew that, then so did you, right? But he didn't win - why? Was it the look in your eyes when he was making the final blow? Did you show him the depth of your feelings? On accident? On purpose? Why?' Casca didn't know. But she understood - and that is what he needed right now.

Someone to understand. Someone who wouldn't judge him for the sin of being in love with the wrong person. Someone who could embrace him in spite of it. Just like before, just like that time in the river after...that, had happened.

Or, at least that's what she thought he needed.

Casca didn't have time to offer words or gesture. "Oof! What? - " she was caught off guard when Griffith suddenly threw himself at her, gathering her tightly in his arms - so tight she could barely breathe. Initially she was frightened - but his embrace was too gentle to hurt her, however hard he was squeezing, and he wasn't making any moves to lay her open or some such.

On one hand, she was pleasantly surprised; but her gut, which had been very talkative this evening, told her something was very wrong here. Griffith never initiated things like this, not with her - not with anyone that she knew of, not even Guts. A slow, semi-painful squeeze forced the air from her lungs completely and distracted her from her thoughts for a moment; but it was over as quick as it started, and he let go of her just enough to lean back and look at her face, searching for something Casca didn't know how to identify. He was always so clandestine. Not for the first time, she wondered how much of that was innate and how much he did it on purpose.

"Please," Griffith pleaded, a vague, distant, and if Casca were guessing right, jaded look in his pale eyes. "Don't be frightened of me. I am far more dangerous to myself right now than you." Casca's heart dropped at the confession, still too breathless to form a response, or even think of one. Her breath then stopped completely, heart flying unceremoniously into her throat, when Griffith's hand trailed feather-light upon her cheek, his eyes taking a darker, more subdued hue. His long, pale lashes glinted in the lamp light, and Casca felt her whole upper body flush with what was no doubt a ruddy blush.

"I want you." He breathed, bringing their faces so close she could have counted the lashes on his half-closed eyes. His hand then rested, open palmed but still so light, so gentle, upon her warming cheek. "I want you to be brave, Casca. Can you do that?" He whispered, leaning toward her other ear. She felt their cheeks brush just barely and couldn't resist a gasp as her lungs gave out from their neglect. "Can you be brave for me?" His voice held an undeniably seductive lilt this time, and Casca abruptly realised the darkish look she hadn't then recognised to be one she'd seen easily a thousand times - just not on his face. Never on his face.

"I don't...understand?" She defended weakly, her breath suddenly returning to her in heavy gasps, pulling away from him on reflex. But his arms held her fast in place, and at once pulled her closer; he then buried his face in her shoulder and neck, breathing deeply. Casca was horribly confused, and habitually a little bit scared, but her reflex to push him away left when she felt him tremble. It was slight, and if she hadn't of been looking for something like that to offer explanation to the situation, she'd of probably missed it. But it was there, a tiny, barely perceptible shaking in his shoulders that shuddered through him to his nose and jaw where he pressed them to her skin.

She didn't fight him when they started moving, a cautious curiosity feeding strange ideas in her mind as he led her to the exposed edge of his bed. When the corner pressed into the back of her thigh, suddenly she felt sparks. Was this happening? She seen him draw back and pause for a moment, before bringing up his hand to guide her face to his, silently asking permission, she presumed. She did not deny him, and met his soft, warm and surprisingly dry mouth with a mixture of elatement and apprehension.

She knew then that he didn't mean her harm, and once that was established, it was like nothing else mattered. Her mind went peacefully blank, offering him whatever it was he was asking from her - she would be his anything if it meant he went back to normal. If it meant she could be helpful. If it made her more than a sticky thorn in his side. She knew - she could sense his annoyance with her at times, could sense the shift in his disposition when he was trying to shield his emotions from her. But this... this was new. This was different. This was Griffith, in his purest, rawest form. And she wasn't going to give him any reason why he shouldn't show her more of this side of him, a side he so desperately needed to share with somebody.

Or, that was the plan, anyway.

He reached down to twine his hands with hers, kissing her neck gently, cautiously. She had no idea where this was meant to be going, but she did not resist. It wasn't worth it to resist - though if it was fear forcing that feeling upon her, it didnt make itself known. She was both calm and restless. She was elated, but also felt defeated, somehow. Like he had just won a fight she had not realised they were having.

The speed at which the kiss escalated surprised but did not disappoint her - she had always wondered why it was men blathered on about the 'taste' of a person, but she kinda understood it now; as did she understand why the previously gross notion of having someone else's tongue in her mouth was such a celebrated win among the rookies. He seemed to have a degree of skill in this endeavor, winding and twining his tongue in hers, though she dare not think how he may have acquired such experience. Their soft tongues tasted and tested each other curiously, and Casca wondered for a moment if all men tasted like this or if it was unique to him. She'd of liked to prefer the latter.

Upon meeting, Casca suddenly felt his possible intention pressing into the hollow of her hip, and a flutter of anxiety struck her like a dull sword in the chest - but it was very swiftly overwhelmed by the excitement growing from below, which roared from a dull possibility into a very different sense of reality, of proximity, as her body seemed to instinctively know what that was and what she wanted it to do to her.

She did not get much longer to ponder though before a much firmer hand than had previously touched her found the crook of her thigh below her butt, and lifted her the short distance onto the bed. It was a jarring experience, enough to break their kiss momentarily, and in nearly the same motion, he gently leaned onto her, using the hand that had been cradling her face and neck to push her back by the waist until she lied down. Before she could mutter an utterance, their lips - and tongues - resumed their business as if there had been no interruption. His hands, freed of the need to prevent her escaping, apparently, now wandered to all but her most sensitive places, tracing gentle, sensual shapes up her sides, tracing dashed lines up and down her outer thigh. It was exhilarating.

He then quite abruptly used both hands on her buttox to move her upward, higher on the bed - bringing his own hips along with, and meeting her own with a small sigh that escaped somehow between them.

She could not resist a soft moan when he moved from her lips finally to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the corner of her jaw as he simultaneously held her arms down gently beside her head, pulling back so he could push his sex into hers, pressing just until the pressure seemed it might tear through their clothes. She reacted with a tremble, sliding her legs up his flanks before entwining them around him, pulling him closer, tighter, asking for something she had, to his knowledge, never known.

He stopped, then. Froze, to be more precise - a stiff statue of his formerly passionate self. Casca looked up at him, bitterly confused, but became concerned instead when she seen the ghost of pain on his face. It wasn't physical pain, though - no, he was still pressing into her, still stiff as wood - no, this was another pain entirely, and Casca honestly understood none of it.

"You don't want this." He said morosely, with a bizzare form of authority. He turned his face away from her then, trying to hide his expression, which nonetheless betrayed the key to this sudden interruption - shame. "You don't want me to treat you like this." He half-whipsered, jaw going tight and arms stiffened from restraint.

Casca was a little dazed. "Wh- yes, I do. I would have stopped you otherwise."

"No, you wouldn't, and we both know it." He said starkly. Those words struck something in her then, sending her heart racing with - what was that? Fear? No. Panic? Why? Because she was losing her chance? Because he was now backing away from her, moving across the room with hanging head to sit as unceremoniously as she'd ever seen him sit onto the chair beside his desk? Because he was rejecting her, again? Because she wasn't good enough, again? Why then? Why offer her a taste if he was just going to rip it away like that? For what? His pride?

"Griffith, I -"

Casca desperately wanted to cry, to scream, to be angry and hurt - and she was. But the words Griffith next spoke offered respite, first in the form of feeling doubly offended, making her anger overshadow her pain for a moment: "You don't want me to treat you like a whore." He said firmly, folding in on himself.

... and then in the form of feeling a wave of regret pass over her for it, for he uttered softly, a moment later, "...I would know."

His bruised and bloody knuckles tightened around his shirt on his upper arms, a familiar coping behavior that Casca immediately recognised - and understood precisely what he meant. And it shattered any resolve she might've had to be angry at him for rejecting her.

"You should go." He interrupted. It was not phrased as a suggestion. "I...need to be alone, for a while."

Casca felt lost. One minute, they were breaths away from taking their clothes off, then she wanted to throttle him, and now he wanted her to leave?

And yet she couldn't argue with his logic, as per usual. After all, what would they have been? A single night tryst made in the throes of a passion that wasn't made for her? A union made from the desperate trappings of greif and longing? For another man, no less. She was hurt - oh, was she hurting. But she couldn't find the will to argue. He was right - maybe it was better this way. He was always right.

But she had never before wanted so, so desperately for him to be wrong.

"Thank you, Casca." Griffith said suddenly. "For checking in on me. Believe it or not, I needed that. All of that." Casca fought off a wince. He gave her a small and tired but surprisingly genuine smile, though his usually clandestine eyes now poorly hid a vicious bitterness that Casca knew was not directed at herself - he would have hid it from her otherwise, or at least tried harder. He was funny like that. In spite of everything, his smile was like a soothing balm upon her temperament, and she managed to collect herself even for just a moment. "If you...need, anything else," she fought the tremble in her voice with all her might, forcing it into her shaking hands instead. "You know where to find me." Casca didn't have the strength to look at him when she said that, turning on her heel and walking out the door without a second glance. And yet, she could almost sense the frown behind her. Almost.

She only made it a few steps before her delicate resolve came undone in rivulets, deep breaths trying to disguise sobs as she prepared to go down the stairs. But the wave of emotions would not be held back this time, and so she resolved to escape as quickly as possible, before she was noticed.

Unbeknownst to her, a young and now very confused housemaiden watched her descend.

Feel free to ask questions or comment with suggestions if you have them. I won't be able to put this whole fic up on Ao3 for a minute yet since all the scenes are out of order still, with bridges yet unwritten, so here's a taste for you. :)

[deripmaver]

15, 16 and 17 for Casca 👀

ohoho lfg alright!!!!

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Honestly? I will ship Casca with pretty much anyone hahahahahahaha. I think at the moment Farnesca is probably my favorite, but I also am really into Gutsca especially in the sort of softer way it's portrayed in the fandom by artists like Theo, Aki, Lora, etc etc etc (sorry if I missed ya, there are just so many!!!). The one rarepair ship with her that really fills me with uwus is Luca/Casca, I just think Luca is such a sweet, supportive presence in her life.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

I... Honestly don't know if I have one???? I feel like the obvious thing to say here is GriffCas but even that I think CAN be interesting with a very, veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery careful hand. I think it's more about the dynamic, what I really want for Casca ships is for her to be happy hahahahah so my least favorite ship for her would be a ship where she's in a bad place physically or emotionally (which ok yeah that kinda describes GriffCas lmfao It's Complicated ok).

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

HMMMMM actually I think this one would have to be Cadeau (Judeau/Casca) haha. It's cute, and I like how supportive of Casca Judeau is + the tragedy of unrequited affection, but it just doesn't really do much for me.

[mrderbird]

for the fandom ask meme: 5, 9, and 23!

5) something you see in fics a lot and love

my favorite berserk fic trope is griff teaching guts to read. also guts taking care of post-torture griffith. i don't usually like fluff but fuck it they deserve it

9) a ship that isn't your OTP but you enjoy

yall already know i'm a proponent of slansca and ngriff/apostles polycule, those are the big ones. i also ship casca and charlotte for the fairytale vibes (i feel like this is the only possible combination of characters in ALL of berserk that has the significant potential to actually be healthy lmao) and iiiiii actually like griffcas a little bit lol (pre-eclipse obviously). not like i want them to fall in love and have babies and be like, an alternative to gutsca (🤮) i just feel like their dynamic, regardless of what type of relationship they have, could've been really interesting. i like zodd/guts also. i have...a lot lol

23) the fandom you're curious about because of a mutual

MASH, it's MASH. of all things. the person who's responsible for that knows who they are lmao

thank you beannnn<3

[bthump]

"not actually guts as a nightmare griffca child" oh yeah ofc, hallucination!casca even wonders if the real guts is still out there swinging his sword. I just find it funny given the mb thing. God, but the mb thing really is stupid no matter what, the only way it can be redeemed is if mb is the luminous form that help guts sometimes and that form is a manifestation of griffith's residual love for guts

Yeah I hate that theory a lot less tbf. honestly tho imo the only correct number of children that magically manifest thru griffith somehow is 0

[nefastum]

Fantiction silliness that just returned to my empty brain~

I was sitting here jotting down ideas for GriffCas smut, and I'm like, "Ah, I'm gonna have to do some digging to make the plot fit into canon timeline at least a little." And then I think, "Well, now I've gotta find canon evidence/moments to tie this together." And it took me embarrassingly long to remember that you can just write porn sans plot XD Like if I wanna write them fucking, I just... can?

I used to read porn without plot all the time, and for some reason, it didn't occur to me to do it myself. So yeah, that was my brain melt for the day. I'm gonna just write Griff and Casca fuckin and I'm not gonna even bother writing a plot because I don't have any clue what it would have been anyway lol who needs settings or story? (Probably most, but hey, I'm not here to impress XD)

If I manage to edit something, I let you all know when I post it, loves ♡

[nefastum]

How have you dealt with the hate you surely get for liking Griffith and Griffith x casca?

Hello there, love ♡ This one gets a little heavy, okay?

⚠️CW// self harm mention CW// suicidebating mention ⚠️

Hate is a tricky thing, isn't it? It depends on the kind of complaints I get, honestly. I understand why the pairing would unsettle some and why Griffith himself might make people uncomfortable, so when comments are strictly on the basis of "this upset me" I am pretty accepting of it as their opinion. It's completely valid. I like people to feel safe, so I want them to be able to avoid my content if it makes them uncomfortable. That's why I'll tag and content warn for anything I feel might be upsetting. Of course, there are those who ignore/don't use filters, in which case I either direct them on how to do it or ignore the comment if it is just "🤢" or something.

As for outright rude comments, like "Gross, should have drawn xyz character instead" or "Fuck you" or something ^ ^; I usually just block them or ignore it. Sometimes, I will admit, I have poked back at them. Dudebros tend to have like one of two insults for me, so it's pretty easy to just respond with a stupid gif. It's not the most mature, I know, but I have my limits. (Also, if I get dumb comments, I make more properly tagged art.)

Speaking of limits, if it is something particularly distressing to me, like threats or telling me to hurt myself, I will either not publish the ask and just delete it, or if it is on twt reply I will hide the reply and block them. I don't take threats to real ppl over fictional characters lightly, and I will not abide by making said threats- even if it is a joke. I will block, delete and remove whatever I must to curate my online space.

In short, if someone is simply uncomfortable, I try to help them. If they are an asshole I block/ignore them. And if they threaten/suicidebait me, I delete/block/remove them from my tl as best I can. I also take breaks from it, because it can really mess with me if I let it.

Thank you for the ask, Anon! I hope you are doing well and keeping yourself safe out there on the internets~ Take care, love ♡

[nefastum]

Instead of going with Charlotte the night Guts left, Griffith should have gone with a casca.

Hello there, love ♡

It is a tantalizingly dramatic AU route, isn't it? I've entertained the scenario more than once, and luckily for you, I have also drawn it ♡ If you are interested in seeing it visually play out, I will have it linked below for you~

Tumblr censored ver: [link]

Twt uncensored ver: [link]

The twt version is a part of a longer thread, so please feel free to scroll around and read up on my take of the AU if you like ♡

Thank you again, Anon~ I do love a kindred spirit 🙏

[nefastum]

There is no way Casca x Griffith is a thing 💀

Hello, Anon~ Sorry I didn't answer this sooner, I haven't been getting push notifications for some reason.

I'm going to go out on a limb and assume this is a response to my GriffCas makeup piece? If so, I'm sorry that made you uncomfortable. But! The good thing is that, if you like, you can block the tag #griffcas. That way, even tho I'll be posting to the main berserk tag, you shouldn't have to see it ♡ Should be under account settings in Filtering, I believe ^ ^ and if that doesn't work, please feel free to block me since i will be posting more GriffCas in the future ♡

Take care out there and keep yourself safe, love~

[nefastum]

I don’t really do this stuff but like if you do make a sequel to Birdcage, here’s maybe an idea ffhgubjjhvn ((cuz that fic was that good good cush 😫👌🏿))

The days had passed within the very containment of that very room. The once proud leader had lost herself then gained her members once again and then once again was she trapped.

The brightly lit heavenly room became her fortress it would seem. As she would start to expect what would happen—wake up, pray perhaps, eat the food that was given to her, read, eat again, sleep then repeat. But every so often now, the angelic gentle voice would come to her. He would take off his armor—tower over her—his hair spill over his shoulders as she gazed into his eyes.

At first she would disassociate when they do it—daydream the golden days of her youth— leading her beloved army—her friends.. her family.. bickering with Guts after every battle, training, going on morning jogs with Griffith—sometimes alone—watching the sunrise engulf the once night sky filled with stars.

After all of that… she is snapped out of reality once his cold hand traces along her face,

“Casca.”

His gentle voice brought her back to the unfortunate reality.

“… Mm?”

She had been silently for so long, even her voice seemed a bit foreign.

She gazed into his eyes as he did the same—he then puts a hand against her stomach and rubs ever so softly.

“… you will birth another.”

Omg you wrote this for me, Anon? Ahhhasdfghjkl thank you so much, love! ♡

Birdcage holds a special place in my heart. It was the first thing I tried writing, and I am so honored it inspired you to write this 😭🙏💕💖

Ooh the dead-dovey GriffCas gets me everytime~ I love the idea that she recalls happy memories of going on jogs with him and watching the sunrise together ;3; Happier and simpler times ♡

[nefastum]

Please, for the love of god, finish and release the Griff Cass fanfic smut. Birdcage was so good.

Ahh, thank you, kindred Anon~

I know I need to finish it ♡ 🙏 I will hopefully have some time after the new year to edit (and maybe a sketch for it?) Thank you so much for your interest, love ♡ I always appreciate Griffith x Casca thirst~

[nefastum]

Anyone remember that "Happily Ever After" Post-Healing Griffith AU I had, with the griffgutsca kids? Well, I finally got around to sketching some older versions of them~ Sorry it's not full illustrations, loves <3 Getting back into the swing of things still ^ ^

Aged-up Jan chara sheet~ 18 years old, into falconry and ever obsessed with catching up to Guts in big sword swinging. He's an extremely competent unit leader and somewhat of a stickler for the rules. While his fighting style is still as recklessly wild as ever, following through on battle plans to the letter is a point of pride. Especially when he can see Griffith's nod of approval upon returning. ( oh and he did end up making up cool stories for his facial scar, tho it changes depending on who he's told)

Efa aged-up. Jan's younger sister by three years, Efa is a slight young woman whose large icy eyes stand out against her small face. As years have rolled on into teenhood for the girl, she has retreated more and more into her books and stories. Preferring to stay in her room tucked away reading, she rarely sees the need to change out of her bed clothes. Quite the opposite of Jan, punctuality is usually far from her mind, while she spends time dreaming of other worlds and times. She inherited her curl pattern from Griffith, but her hair remains thick and coarse like her mother's, and she often can't be bothered to fix it. Comb teeth do not stand a chance, so her curls are left in a constant wild state of bed head much to Griffith's dismay. Because of her withdrawn nature, it has led some to wonder if she was sickly. In truth, she is quite able bodied, and trains with Casca frequently. She is fond of animals more than people, and enjoys spending time with Jan and his falcons in the mews.

[nefastum]

The way this was such an innocuous post too lmao... wait til they see what else I've said/drawn of the two 😂

[nefastum]

Hi there! I've noticed there's not a lot of Griffith x Casca stuff out there and most of it is made by you XD Do you prefer that ship best since a lot of your recent art has been for them? Or is there an order of preference for your pairings? It's cool you want to make stuff either way. I'm sure some people hate you for it, but keep vibing.

Hello there, love~

Aha I might sort of have the market cornered on GriffCas, I think ^ ^; I understand why it is a rare pairing tho, so I don't mind so much being one of the few. (Thank you to the other brave souls)

As for order of preference? Hmm, my main ship/throuple will always be my ot3 GriffGutsCa ♡ I love them dearly. And rest assured, no matter what I am working on, they reign supreme haha

Regarding separating them into duos, ahh I have to say I don't really have a preference of one over the other. I suppose it might look that way, given I focus in on GriffCas a lot (at least recently), but really, that is just a matter of supply and demand on my part. There are some phenomenal writers and artist who make fantastic works for both GriffGuts and Gutsca, and most of my plot itches get scratched by them. I can usually find cute/sexy/dark content for either of those ships. For GriffCas, just by its nature, there is less. Like I said before, I understand why that is, but it doesn't stop me from craving it. So, where there is a demand (me) there will be supply (also me) It's its own weird little feedback loop.

I adore all of my favourite pairings/ships, I just get stuck in trends of needing a craving filled and with GriffCas I have by and large had to fill it on my own ^ ^; Though, that is not to say there are not brave individuals who are like minded and want to make stuffs too! I am so happy whenever someone new joins the cult mwahahaha 🙏😈

As for ppl hating me for it; they couldn't possibly hate me more than I do lmao. So it is really not such a big deal, most of the time. They can block me or filter me if they need ^ ^;

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Thank you for the curiosity! ♡ I hope my rambling made any sense at all~

[nefastum]

With griffguts weekend over, have you been working on anything new? 😊

Sorry for answering this late! ^ ^;

Yes! I have been working on a lot of art, actually 🙏(some of it might even see the light of day lmao) I have an event I'm brainstorming ideas for in December and a separate personal project for GriffCas since I promised more work of them after I finished October's events ♡

So if that interests you, please look forward to it, love ♡

[nefastum]

⚠️cw// blood⚠️

Berserkween Day 1: Vampire Bite

Off to a bloody start with GriffCas 😈🩸 Don't worry it's costume blood. Griffith just had to be full on theatrics for Halloween. Casca was up for spooky pics with him, but that pose is killer on the back ♡ 🧛