#griffith scenario

[loneworldgazer]

@pinkkunt-imagines @dwelleroftheobsidiantower

req :I saw Berserk in your tags, so assuming I'm assuming you write for it. I'd like to request either a headcanon or a scenario about Post Eclipse Guts and Griffith having become parents from a relationship pre-eclipse. Like their reactions, interactions with the child, etc. Thank you, bookie. 💖

pairing: Guts x Reader, Griffith x Reader

a/n: ive done your request but there is so many things i am not satisfied by. there's probably a lot of repetitive words and i deeply apologize, enjoy it nonetheless!

tags: hints of violence and manipulation in griffith's, angst to comfort, fluff,

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

Guts wasn't one to soften his heart easily, he pushes away people and let people assume of him by his strength and how much of an arrogant man he is. He didn't bat an eye to people who try to cross him again and goes off to his own path to protect others from him.

He felt that he'd let his weakness slip when he had opened his heart to another person.

There was just something about the way you held the baby in your arms. You wonder what type of hell he'd been through to look at you that way. It was a haunting look not one of no emotion but weakness from the facade he had pulled away from.

"Guts?"

Your voice didn't reach him as he runs out the door. Understanding him will always be never ending, there will be more questions you utter than answers he can think of.

Erica holds your baby, her childlike innocence calling Guts such a bad guy for leaving you just like that and you could nothing but chuckle. The chuckle made your throat hurt from the tears that had started pouring down your ears, darting from the little girl's sight to wipe them away quickly.

Your hands extend to the teapot and look closely at the tea leaves that had dwindled down since the trees in these parts were dying to the fast winter that was approaching. It was quite silly worrying about Guts who was running out in this cold, he was a machine. A weapon that wont stop to anything in its path yet the nights of worrying about the sores he had on his feet, the splinters he had from trees he gathered back to home will always stick close to you.

"I have thick skin, don't worry too much."

That soft smirk he had when he wipes tears away from your eyes as the blood just won't stop flowing. Every scar that was stitched was remembered, it came from many brave battles that may have been a breeze for him but an impending ache to you.

Should you rush out the door after him, the wailing of your baby could be heard miles away. A fierce cry coming out from such a small body. All the pain of child birth would come rushing back into you, legs trembling when the throb shoots up your nerves. Oh and Erica who was so observant even if she held the tiny bundle of joy in one arm while stopping you with the other with a pout on her face.

"You don't need to go out for the tea leaves, Rickert keeps them in the second drawer near the dried fish."

You can't help but smile, such a sweet girl. Stepping away from the door, you trust Guts to return. He always does be it battles or training, clenching the necklace you wore, you've convinced yourself.

He will come back.

-------

The storm had particularly been rough tonight though it didn't wake you up but the anxiety had consumed you on why the baby had been silent. The bile in your throat rises up, whipping your head to the baby's cradle. praying that there was nothing wrong when you saw him.

Guts looked down at his baby, the part of his armour on his chest removed where he laid his child against. His hair was wet but he made sure to tilt back so the droplets don't touch what he was holding. His breathing was slow, the sound of the night drowning out in his ears when he focused on the breathing of the baby in his arms. The little bundle of joy nuzzles into his chest, soiled tank top warm enough for the trembling body of his little girl.

You didn't want to see his reaction, scared he will have the same look of horror from the first time he'd seen the baby. Fist clenching the sheets to try to hurriedly wipe the tears from your cheeks, you twitch when he turns towards you.

He holds up the little girl, a look of pure awe and serenity that made your shoulders droop from the tension.

"She has your eyes.."

He cradles him, running a hand through the short patch of hair on his head.

"She also has my hair.."

Coming from Guts was a smile that looked painful to muster but this baby was the best thing that could happen eversince everything. His finger toys with the spikiness of his child's head and you can't help but run to him. The sharp edges of his armour, the ones on his arms that wrap around you slightly pokes you but you couldn't care less.

His reaction was enough, calloused hand wrapping around yours as his eyes speak more to the fear in yours.

This was his baby, his soon to be pride and joy whom he'll fight for.

With you by his side.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

While he focused on his training, he easily brings back kills to feed you as you light up fire for the pot

He spoon feeds the grilled meat in your mouth while he takes the baby in his other hand. Even if you protest that you should hold the baby, he declines that offer

You were a hardworking parent without him and he wants to give his part too if possible, give himself whole for you

Everything was warm enough for you. He pulls that romantic stuff of blowing your hot food for you and you'd slap him playfully when his spit dribbles on to it

When it comes to sleep, he made sure to let you sleep. Ever since he came back, he looked at his baby with a look of longing. like he had lost so much time because of battles, missing the period where you had given birth to a new life.

He traced his fingers against the skin of the girl, she was quite plump. Guts was grateful that you had reside with Rickert and Erica, you look pale, the challenges of childbirth evident on your body but both of his dears healthy and untouched by any danger he had feared of

Small arms wrap around his hand, the swordsman knew he was a walking heater and caressed the little one's face. His palm on her cheek as she gurgles

This is one of the cases where Guts will give you never ending heart attacks when the sun had illuminated the room and his thick body resting down on the baby

You'd pound on his back to wake up, he was a beefcake so your punches barely register not until the baby started crying

"You idiot, you fell asleep on the baby!"

Rickert entered the room to see what the commotion is, he could only chuckle softly but before he asked the couple to tone it down, Erica pulled him out the door with all her might. Rickert nearly stumbled back against the short girl.

Erica shushed him excessively, clutching tea leaves in her hand.

"Shh! Don't bother them."

She huffs, letting go off Rickert's scarf and walked away to start a fire, blowing it a bit before wiping her cheek. That soft look in her eyes wary.

"I haven't seen Mx Y/n this loud before.. not since Guts came back."

Rickert understood the implication, his tense shoulders drooping as he listens to the rattle in the room. Y/n had been restless since the months Guts had been gone from war. Even if Erica had talked with them daily, there's so much a parent could worry about. He clenched his hand, it made sense. Sooner or later, Guts have to leave even if it looked like he won't.

That sword man's always had many things plaguing his mind but for now, he'll stay with his spouse and hold his partner close to his heart.

Griffith

Those sharp eyes look down at his child, sweat running down his face with a tissue lodged in his nose. He held a sword in his hand, one that was in his favourite colours and chattered in excitement on how he won his third fight with the older fighters.

Griffith's eyes slowly trail to the noise of your steps, you looked at your son with endearment but a hint of worry. He was barely bruised and his cuts were covered by bandaids, those eyes of his though were filled with the same fire just like his father's. You adjusted your son's collar to which his eyes follow, whining when you'd pull the ribbons too tight.

"Cmon, dont you want that puff pastry I baked this morning? If you get your teeth knocked out, you can't chew it!"

The little boy lights up to the sound of having a treat after a day of training, he really wanted to bite into something that was as rewarding as his parent's creation. He then runs home, slipping through your fingers to get that bite of pastry. You sigh, holding onto the boy's sword that dropped out of enthuasiasm. When you look back up, Griffith was staring straight at you, a look that sent a chill down your spine before he pulls away.

Unlike Guts, Griffith had already made his plans for his child.

He'll be strong, he'll fight like him but not become just like him

He let his son indulge in human activities like playing about, tasting all kinds of foods, giving him clothes warm and luxurious clothes. Things he weren't able to experience when he was a child

Scratching after scraps of food, the clothes on his back wet from grime and rain and his only childhood friend a sword amongst a pile of dead bodies wasn't something he wanted his child to ever go through

Even if he watches his son play in the garden, he doesn't feel like anything. He would be another weapon whom he can send off into war but he made it count for his creation, the spitting image of him should reign amongst everybody and step on the tombs of his once companions

He does engage in idle talk with his son, maintaining a connection with his creation in order to bring him over on his beliefs. He does find the benefit in attaching himself onto the little one's mind. It was obvious that his normal was completely different from his son, his stories full of sparks of colours while Griffith's was only red

Griffith's fingers occasionally comb through his son's, just what is mentioned prior is that he was a spitting image. It almost seemed like his genes had been more on the dominant side but what was different was the shape of his eyes and nothing more

Griffith smelled the fresh smell of baked goods being made, you had made a new batch instead of reheating the ones in the morning and heads inside. His home was lavish but due to your wishes on wanting to bake alone, the ones under him followed

He follows you and sits down, his hand caressing your face.

"Thank you for this, my love."

He kisses your hand before his son passed his father a piece of puff pastry, putting it on his plate. The dining table was quiet with the clinking of forks and knifes and soft laughter from both of his beloved. He didn't have to eat it, he didn't have to do all of this. He could even succeed without his family.

But maybe, this was a sense of normalcy he always wanted to feel when life was nearly stripped away from him.

[vobomon]

As much as I love the fact that Griffith became a demon in the Berserk canon... I think it'll be really cool to see more people experiment and spread out from that original concept.

Why should Griffith be a demon when he can (also) be literally anything else that isn't human? The possibilities are endless!

Mermaid Griffith?

Werewolf Griffith?

Dragon Griffith?

Y'know... might as well take a moment to give a quick shoutout to that one AO3 fanfic where Griffith is a kelpie! They had a vision and they made it work!

So yeah... in conclusion, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we need more monster Griffith AUs (or) scenarios because-- well just look at him.

He was never human to begin with! So its time to embrace that fact.

[quibbs126]

Okay that got a laugh out of me

[chemos-factories]

maybe i would be more open to trying heinrix's romance if they let me Berserk him

[indigosuvi]

Iggy In A Relationship

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 194 | Read it on AO3 | Tag List

Iggy loves that you help him out if you redecorate the furniture. Telling him where stuff is so that he doesn't trip and fall. He also hates that you rearrange the furniture. Just leave it where it is, please.

He enjoys cooking for you and will always make meals unless you insist on cooking him something. If you're a terrible cook, you're not allowed in the kitchen.

If you don't have wings, he may take you on flights if you aren't afraid of heights. If you are afraid, then he'll just stick to the regular walking until you're more comfortable with being in the air. 

While he can't see, it is said that he can see white, and he does enjoy seeing you in white lingerie. It is also said that he can feel and tell the difference in the feelings of colors. So there are colors that he does enjoy feeling on you if you aren't wearing white.

He is rather shy when it comes to affection. As time goes on, he does begin to warm up and become more comfortable with it. His favorite thing to do is hold hands or cuddle.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

[insiderzx]

Griffith Observatory - Los Angeles

[mariacallous]

With vaccination rates among US kindergarteners steadily declining in recent years and Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. vowing to reexamine the childhood vaccination schedule, measles and other previously eliminated infectious diseases could become more common. A new analysis published today by epidemiologists at Stanford University attempts to quantify those impacts.

Using a computer model, the authors found that with current state-level vaccination rates, measles could reestablish itself and become consistently present in the United States in the next two decades. Their model predicted this outcome in 83 percent of simulations. If current vaccination rates stay the same, the model estimated that the US could see more than 850,000 cases, 170,000 hospitalizations, and 2,500 deaths over the next 25 years. The results appear in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

“I don’t see this as speculative. It is a modeling exercise, but it’s based on good numbers,” says Jeffrey Griffiths, professor of public health and community medicine at Tufts University School of Medicine in Boston, who was not involved in the study. “The big point is that measles is very likely to become endemic quickly if we continue in this way.”

The United States declared measles eliminated in 2000 after decades of successful vaccination campaigns. Elimination means there has been no chain of disease transmission inside a country lasting longer than 12 months. The current measles outbreak in Texas, however, could put that status at risk. With more than 600 cases, 64 hospitalizations, and two deaths, it’s the largest outbreak the state has seen since 1992, when 990 cases were linked to a single outbreak. Nationally, the US has seen 800 cases of measles so far in 2025, the most since 2019. Last year, there were 285 cases.

“We’re really at a point where we should be trying to increase vaccination as much as possible,” says Mathew Kiang, assistant professor of epidemiology and population health at Stanford University and one of the authors of the paper.

Childhood vaccination in the US has been on a downward trend. Data collected by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention from state and local vaccination programs found that from the 2019–2020 school year to the 2022–2023 school year, coverage among kindergartners with state-required vaccinations declined from 95 percent to approximately 93 percent. Those vaccines included MMR (measles, mumps, and rubella), DTaP (diphtheria, tetanus, and acellular pertussis), polio, and chickenpox.

In the current study, Kiang and his colleagues modeled each state separately, taking into account their vaccination rates, which ranged from 88 percent to 96 percent for measles, 78 percent to 91 percent for diphtheria, and 90 percent to 97 percent for the polio vaccine. Other variables included demographics of the population, vaccine efficacy, risk of disease importation, typical duration of the infection, the time between exposure and being able to spread the disease, and the contagiousness of the disease, also known as the basic reproduction number. Measles is highly contagious, with one person on average being able to infect 12 to 18 people. The researchers used 12 as the basic reproduction number in their study.

Under a scenario with a 10 percent decline in measles vaccination, the model estimates 11.1 million cases of measles over the next 25 years, while a 5 percent increase in the vaccination rate would result in just 5,800 cases in that same time period.

In addition to measles, the authors used their model to assess the risk of rubella, polio, and diphtheria. The researchers chose these four diseases for their infectiousness and risk of severe complications. While sporadic cases of these diseases do occur and are usually related to international travel, they are no longer endemic in the US, meaning they no longer regularly occur.

The model predicted that rubella, polio, and diphtheria are unlikely to become endemic under current levels of vaccination. Rubella and polio have a basic reproduction number of four, while diphtheria’s is less than three. In 81 percent of simulations, vaccination rates would need to fall by around 35 percent for rubella to become endemic in the next 25 years. Polio, meanwhile, had a 50 percent chance of becoming endemic if vaccination rates dropped 40 percent. Diphtheria was the least likely disease to become reestablished.

“Any of these diseases, under the right conditions, could come back,” says coauthor Nathan Lo, a Stanford physician and assistant professor of infectious diseases.

To evaluate the validity of the model, the researchers ran a scenario with recent state-level vaccine coverage rates over a five-year period and found that the number of model-predicted cases broadly aligned with the number of observed cases in those years. The authors also found that Texas was at the highest risk for measles.

One limitation of the study was that the model assumed that vaccination rates were the same across all communities within a state. It didn’t take into account large variations in vaccination levels. Pockets of low vaccination rates, like in the Mennonite community at the center of the West Texas outbreak, would likely lead to local outbreaks that are larger than expected given the overall vaccination rate.

The study also didn’t take into account the possibility that vaccination rates could rebound in an area in response to an outbreak. “That’s the thing that we have control over. If you’re able to change that cycle, then that disease won’t spread anymore,” says Mujeeb Basit, associate chief of the Clinical Informatics Center at UT Southwestern Medical Center, who wasn’t involved in the study.

Kiang and Lo say the full impact of decreased vaccination will likely not be seen for decades. “It’s important to note that it’s totally feasible that vaccinations go down and nothing happens for a little while. That’s actually what the model says,” Kiang says. “But eventually, these things are going to catch up to us.”

[menthea]

the Miquella and Griffith (also Leda and Griffith) comparison is especially funny to me because aesthetically and on a surface level, I definitely see there being inspiration! Venn diagram of these characters DOES overlap some! however reads that extend similarities to their core motivations when they are so different tells me that they either have a very harsh opinion of Miquella or a very kind opinion of Griffith, likely both

getting gamerbro elden ring memes and takes suggested to me is always such a jumpscare what do you mean you think Miquella is Griffith. what do you mean you think Radahn is wholesome. what game are we playing here

[makeyuomine]

written in the stars // part 1

Summary: (Y/N) was hoping for a quiet evening under the stars at the Griffith Observatory — a chance to clear her mind. But something shifts when she spots Harry, a graduate student in Planetary Science, during the planetarium show. What begins as a few curious glances soon turns into lingering conversations, shared stargazing, and a growing connection neither of them saw coming.

Tropes: Slow burn, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, academic/nerdy bf x grounded gf

Photo Credits: Pinterest

Author’s Note: Hi readers ⭐️ This is a work of fanfiction inspired by the public persona of Harry Styles. All characters, events, and scenarios are entirely fictional and are not intended to reflect real-life individuals, situations, or relationships. This story was written purely for entertainment and creative expression — nothing here is based on real events.

Also please note this is my first time writing a fanfic in literal years, so I’m a little rusty.

Thank you so so much for taking the time to read. I hope you all enjoy.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

(Y/N) had grown up with the Griffith Observatory practically in her backyard, but it felt brand new tonight. She had decided to attend a showing at the planetarium that evening.

Maybe it was the mist drifting in from the hills, softening the sharp lights of Los Angeles like a veil. Or perhaps it was how everything had started feeling a little off lately—like her life had tilted half a degree on its axis, except no one had noticed. She wasn’t looking for an answer tonight, just a reason to keep going.

The planetarium dome smelled the same as it always had—clean, slightly metallic, like old projectors and cool air. She chose a seat in the center row, her favorite spot since childhood. When the stars would swirl and expand across the ceiling, it felt like she was floating.

"I should’ve gotten high first," she muttered under her breath.

(Y/N) adjusts herself in her seat, getting comfortable. A few seconds later, someone slid into one of the seats beside her.

Not right beside her, but close enough to notice.

She glanced over, expecting some bored couple or a tourist with a camera.

The man beside her was quietly silencing his phone, settling in for the show. He sat alone, entirely absorbed in his own world—and looked absolutely, maddeningly gorgeous.

He wore black jeans, scuffed Vans, and a button-up shirt, with a navy blue cardigan draped casually over his shoulders.

His hair fell in loose, tousled waves near his collar—like he'd been running his fingers through it all day without realizing. A soft leather notebook rested on one knee, a pen poised in his hand, like he was treating the show more like a study session than a casual outing.

He noticed her looking.

"You don’t strike me as someone who’s here for an Instagram post," he whispered, a half-smile playing at his lips.

(Y/N) arched a brow. "And you don’t strike me as someone who’s here for fun."

"That's right," he laughed, offering a hand. "I'm Harry."

She shook it. "(Y/N)."

There was a pause, the kind that crackled with the promise of more.

“I'm a grad student at the university here,” he said, eyes flicking up to the domed ceiling. "I study Planetary Science."

Her brows lifted. "That's amazing. So you do this for a living?"

"Well," he said, shrugging modestly, "I try to make sense of celestial chaos. Planets colliding. Moons forming. Rings collapsing into dust. Romance, really."

(Y/N) smiled and raised her eyebrow. "That’s your idea of romance?"

"Well, what's yours?"

Her eyes met his, lingering a second too long.

"I... I don't know, actually."

She felt slightly flustered. (Y/N) didn't expect to be talking about romance, let alone being asked what she considered to be romantic.

"I'm sure you do. We’re alive in the blink of cosmic time, and somehow, here we are."

The lights dimmed.

The dome came alive with light—stars unfurling in spirals and flares above them. (Y/N) tilted her head back, chest rising and falling slowly. She found herself unable to focus on the show—despite having seen it more times than she could count. Her thoughts kept drifting to the handsome grad student beside her, and the way he managed to make astronomy feel like poetry.

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe the universe had timing. That maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all chaos.

Next to her, Harry was silent. Still.

He watched the stars with quiet intensity, occasionally scribbling notes into his notebook. How he managed to write anything in the dim light, she had no idea—but she couldn’t look away. There was something about him that felt effortlessly poetic, like he belonged to the stars he was studying.

Sensing her watching him, Harry turned his head.

And when she turned—drawn by the same invisible thread that had pulled her to come here alone, he looked away, like he’d been caught in something intimate.

The narrator’s voice filled the dome again. Soft, reverent.

"Venus spins backwards, did you know that? Her sun rises in the west and sets in the east. No one knows exactly why, but she defied gravity and expectations."

She.

(Y/N) swallowed. She wasn’t sure if it was the narrator's words or the way Harry tensed, just a little, as if he felt them too.

When the show ended, the crowd shuffled out in a hush, like worshippers leaving a chapel. Outside, the night was velvet and full of echoes. The Observatory loomed behind them, glowing like a crown on the hillside.

She lingered at the edge of the terrace, arms crossed, watching the smog-shrouded city glitter below.

Harry joined her quietly.

"You didn’t ask why I came alone," she said.

"I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would."

(Y/N) turned to look at him and chuckled, "That’s surprisingly respectful for someone who called planetary destruction romantic."

He grinned, then grew more serious. "Why did you come?"

She hesitated. Then: "Everything’s changing lately. People, plans. It’s like…I don’t recognize anything I used to count on."

He nodded slowly. A few seconds passed before he spoke up, "Sometimes I look at Jupiter’s Great Red Spot and think about how it’s a storm that’s been raging for centuries. Longer than any of us will live. But even that’s starting to fade."

"Hm, is this your version of a pep talk?"

"I’m just saying," he smiled, his voice softer now, "even the most chaotic of things can’t last forever."

She didn’t mean to stare at him again. She didn’t mean to want more.

But she did.

He was brilliant and magnetic and too much for the moment she was in. But he’d made her feel something—for the first time in months.

They stood together in silence, the kind that felt less awkward and more like a pause the night was holding its breath through.

(Y/N) stared out at the city lights, scattered like fallen stars across the hills. Beside her, Harry did the same. When he wasn’t looking, she stole quiet glances—drawn to how composed he seemed, how effortlessly he carried himself, like he belonged in some other era.

After a long breath, Harry pulled out his notebook and jotted something down, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I should get going,” he said finally.

He tore a small slip of paper from the notebook and held it out to her—edges rough, his number written in a looping, deliberate hand.

“In case you ever want to talk stars again,” he said. Then, after a beat, his mouth curved with mischief. “Or chaos.”

(Y/N) took the paper, fingertips brushing his.

“It was really nice meeting you, (Y/N),” he added, extending his hand with that same steady warmth.

She shook it, and for a second, neither of them let go.

“Call me,” he said, his voice low as he took her hand, brushing a soft kiss against her palm.

He let her hand slip from his, the touch lingering just a little too long. She stood there, utterly speechless, only able to offer a small nod and a shy smile.

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

She watched him go, lost in the sea of people, but something told her—he wouldn’t be gone for long.

And somehow, she knew she would stay with him, too.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

A/N: Thank you to everyone that took the time to read the first post of Written in the Stars! Please let me know your thoughts. Also make sure to drop any recommendations for other one shots, blurbs, etc.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[sayruq]

Below is a statement by the UN Relief Chief that is both true and meant to reassure zionists that he is not pro Hamas

Despite this, there is a smear campaign against him (and the UN in general)

All this to distract people from this grave warning issued by Martin Griffiths

The scenario we have long dreaded is unraveling at alarming speed. More than half of Gaza’s population – well over 1 million people – are crammed in Rafah, staring death in the face: They have little to eat, hardly any access to medical care, nowhere to sleep, nowhere safe to go. They, like the entire population of Gaza, are the victims of an assault that is unparalleled in its intensity, brutality and scope. More than 28,000 people – mostly women and children – have been killed across Gaza, according to the Ministry of Health. For more than four months, humanitarian workers have been doing the near-impossible to assist people in need, despite the risks they themselves were facing and the traumas they were enduring. But no amount of dedication and goodwill is enough to keep millions of people alive, fed and protected – while the bombs are falling and the aid is choked off.

Add to this the widespread despair, the breakdown of law and order, and the defunding of UNRWA. The consequences are humanitarian workers who are shot at, held at gunpoint, attacked and killed. I have said for weeks now that our humanitarian response is in tatters. Today, I’m sounding the alarm once again: Military operations in Rafah could lead to a slaughter in Gaza. They could also leave an already fragile humanitarian operation at death’s door. We lack the safety guarantees, the aid supplies and the staff capacity to keep this operation afloat. The international community has been warning against the dangerous consequences of any ground invasion in Rafah. The Government of Israel cannot continue to ignore these calls. History will not be kind. This war must end.

[runningwithscizzorz]

So I do think Christopher Lee is a good choice for Narinder, but could I also suggest Griffith Kimmins specifically with his voice for Mao Mao?

You mean Parker Simmons? That man is a friggen beast, he voice acted like, half of the cast. I can see that! His delivery wouldn’t be nearly as hysterical as Mao Mao typically is, but the gruffness of his voice would suit his small cat form immensely well. Ntm The part where Mao Mao barfs up his binoculars will never not be fucking hilarious to me, the whole show is incredibly underrated. Badgerclops’s voice would also suit Lamb (Ill think of a name for them soon) really well in that scenario

[gyodragon]

POST GRIFFITH TORTURE RENASSIANCE!!! i keep staring at your art of griffith's broken stare with the bandages wrapped across his face and his emaciated little corpse beside guts...

I read this ao3 fic about his struggle with recovery in an aftermath where he doesn't go apeshit. *offers it to you gently* https://archiveofourown.org/works/609721

it made me think, as a certified griffith expert, what do you think his recovery may have looked like? could anything possibly have still made him happy after all of that... or at least minorly not-miserable? what kinds of things do you think he'd enjoy in such a state?

would he even try to grow out his hair?

The Renaissance that really constricts our hearts!! I remember when first learning Berserk, it was the transformation Griffith has after the torture that got its hooks into me and compelled me to read the series. The rest is history. Thank you so much btw! I've only drawn him a few times but it feels like more in my heart. Thank you for sending that fic my way! (I'm super into gen fic and that is a good one) *Certified Griffith Expert* AHH! That's sweet! I'd like a badge or something after this long LOL. First off, this ask has given me SUCH AN ITCH to pick 'Iron Hawk' back up (my fan project about Griffith being rescued from the Tower early and the aftermath of that. It's my baby) I'm thinking about maybe using a different, more sustainable format by writing multi-chapter fanfiction with accompanying illustrations. But I assume you mean a scenario about his recovery after the canon full year of torture. Interesting. I actually haven't put a ton of thought into that because, morbidly, I have a hard time imagining any outcome after that amount of trauma where he isn't doomed. So assuming this is a world in which he is able to make some progress in his recovery that allows him to regain some mobility and use of his hands, I could see a return of the bandit era. I could see Judeau with his ingenuity and the help of other Hawks working together to fashion him a kind of wheelchair. A Merlin chair wouldn't fit with the time period but you get the idea! Maybe he eventually uses a cane and back brace. He grows his hair out but it never comes back as thick or as long. He shows his face again but rotates a collection of partial porcelain masks to cover the worst of his scars. If his hands heal enough, he learns sign language, writes with the tip of his finger in people's palms and writes with a large pen or quill. (edit: I've recently been totally swayed by your post about him relearning to speak and whispering to his trusted inner circle. I'm SOLD) I think his band would continue to whittle down until only the most loyal remained. The core members who would inevitably transform back into his friends. He used to protect himself from 'friends' with compartmentalization when they were among the thousands of Hawks under his command. I think that Griffith's life during recovery would be hell but he could find happiness in his inner circle reducing to a small group. Like when he was a kid. I think with the deterioration of his body, it could be possible that his mind goes into overdrive. The frail, mute, mysterious general who is even more of a political/military genius. No more White Hawk. He is just 'Griffith' or 'General' or 'The prisoner'. After enough banditry and roaming, the group reclaims a comfortable position in a land away from political enemies. Griffith gives up on his dream and focuses on fulfilling the promise of his vision to just these few people. He is even able to preform Robin Hood-like feats in the countryside. Outlaw goodness, that sort of thing. He doesn't retire himself though. I have a dark outlook. I think he probably satisfies himself with this twilight campaign, sees his remaining friends in positions of security and wealth and when all is said and done he eventually claims his own life. I think Guts is the last one with him when he is finally finished.

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: You and Griffith were the best of friends since childhood trying to get by in the kingdom of Midland. After a lack of communication for years due to a fight that cost you two your friendship, you and Griffith are invited to the same ball, where you two lock eyes together. Such a scenario is harmless, right? What could possibly go wrong?

𝖈𝖜: dubcon, mild sexual tension, implied stalking.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I must admit this was rushed. However, I have no regrets writing this.

“Griffith…. I can’t do this. I can’t afford our friendship to transcend into something more. My parents don’t approve of our…relationship. It’s best if we just stop meeting each other, okay?”

Chandeliers filled the ceiling of the ballroom, illuminating bright enough to light up the whole venue. The windows were decorated with crimson red curtains and white roses, giving off that elegant feel one could ever ask for when stepping into the palace. The doors were made of gold, stainless steel, and intricate patterns that boasted the wealth Midland’s kingdom had over the nations.

This feeling was a dream come true, you thought, as you danced with your partner of the night. You weren’t beyond friends, but it was nice having someone to tag along when dancing to the rhythm of classical music that echoed through the halls.

You were beautifully adorned with a gown as black as ebony and a flower crown that gave emphasis to your crowning glory. There is indeed beauty in the smallest of things the moment you step foot into the ball, giving you a glimpse of what it feels to be in possession of the luxury you usually never had. Is this what it was like being a part of the elite and the royal family in Midland? Perhaps.

You swore to yourself that there was nothing that could get in the way of your amazing time at the ball. You had a handsome partner to dance with, appetizing food and drink you could turn to in moments of hunger and thirst, and your friends to accompany you as the time passed. Your parents trusted your friends enough to protect and be by your side in case things don’t turn out rough ….so far as to let you be invited with your friends to sleep at the guest rooms of the palace.

You were a close friend of Princess Charlotte, which granted you some privilege at least. She handed out invitations to you and your friends to join the feast as it was her birthday being the main focus of the celebration. But what bothered you is her friendship with someone you refused to speak of—a man with long, wavy, and flowing white hair and a pair of icy blue eyes. A man whose dream was to build his own kingdom and have people work for his rule. A man who once claimed you as someone he wanted to keep for as long as time stretches itself into the void. A man who was once your childhood friend, but was somehow separated from you because of your family disapproving of the relationship.

It didn’t take even a second. The moment you looked back, he was amongst the crowd, right behind you and your partner. Seeing him dancing with another woman felt almost strange to you, as he wasn’t one to mingle with other girls other than just you. Anyhow, you chose to move on. Your parents always had a disdain for him, claiming he was a dangerous, selfish young man who took pleasure in taking lives within the battlefield. They say it wasn’t a very smart decision to be friends with him, and the fact that he confessed his feelings for you enraged your family even further.

You dared not revisit the past, better yet, you’d rather not reminisce about your friendship with him. He was not good for you, end of story.

“Griffith, I’ve had it. Let’s just stop meeting here, okay? Our relationship serves ZERO benefits and I just can’t stand the sight of you anymore!”

“Then we’ll fix things one by one. What is it about me that you so despise, hm?”

“The bloodshed, the destruction, the violence you constantly put yourself in! Why would I, a diplomatic person advocating for peace within Midland, care enough to associate myself with a monster who takes innocent lives like you!”

“You know that I take lives for the money. It is a part of what I wanted, dear. A dream the both of us can indulge in, if you so desire. I cannot abandon my dream. I will never betray it. Causing bloodshed isn’t just a hobby, it’s a part of my DREAM. And I shall NOT abandon it over your will.”

“Griffith…..I-”

“I told you this a long time ago but you recall that I said it once, and I would say it over and over again. You belong to me. Not even your family would break the bond we two once shared, and not even their disapproval of our relationship would stop the lengths I’d go just to have you in my grasp.”

Those were the last words that came into mind the moment your eyes darted to the man you so despised. He had a charming exterior, yes, but his ambitions were something you didn’t want yourself to be associated with. After cutting ties with him for good, you saw him once again in this ball. What a shame. You tried keeping your eyes off him by looking away, but things were too late as his stare met yours. Griffith, the man himself, knew not to abandon his partner, but this time he felt the urge to do so.

He always recognized you, from your well-donned makeup to your stunning black gown and flower crown.

Griffith was left with no doubt that he was looking at his one and only childhood friend who abandoned him. His gaze wasn’t that of an innocent look, his icy blue eyes staring at you in anger from head to toe. His eyes undressed and penetrated into your very being, it almost gave you goosebumps. Your eyes darted elsewhere as you looked back at your partner.

“Is there something wrong?” your partner asked.

“No, nothing of the sort.” you responded. “It’s just that….I feel as though I am being watched.”

“That’s definitely not right, do you want to leave the ballroom this early? I’ll inform the guards of your willful departure.”

“No, no…I-I can handle it.” you stuttered. “Just leave me be. I won’t let someone ruin my stay at this wondrous celebration.”

“Hey there!” Princess Charlotte greeted you from afar. “Are you enjoying the ball so far?”

“Ah! Yes, yes I am. However….”

“Oh, what seems to be the matter? You can tell me anything that bothers you!”

“I feel as if someone is watching me….” you said, your voice slightly shaky. “It must be him….”

“You mean…Griffith?” Princess Charlotte asked. “I don’t know much about you two, but I do hear he’s up to something…..”

“What is that ‘something’ you speak of, Princess?” you asked.

“He’s up to sleeping with someone for the night. Who knows who it is, he’s always….sleeping around, that is…” Princess Charlotte laughed. “Are you alright?”

“Well, for some weird reason, I’m not surprised. Griffith has never been the type to stick around with one anyway. He’s better off without me.” you scoffed.

“Awwww….[Name], don’t say that! I’m sure this ball would pave an opportunity for you two to reconcile! And, you know….have the two of you become friends again!” Princess Charlotte replied. “So cheer up! Come on now, would you like a drink?”

“Sure!” you agreed.

After a few drinks, you were dazed and confused with what surrounded you in the ballroom. Your partner and friends were half drunk, and you couldn’t deny how you felt tipsy after seven shots of sweet champagne.

“[Name]!! Are you alright?” Princess Charlotte asked, concerningly.

“I’m alright, Princess. Thank you for asking. I…just had…a few drinks, perhaps…? Can I….go to my bedroom now, please?” you stammered, slightly dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol you consumed for the night.

“Oh, sure thing! Guards! Kindly escort my dear friend to the guest rooms, please!” Princess Charlotte called out.

Princess Charlotte hosting a sleepover for some guests was something you didn’t expect off your bucket list. When you were invited to her birthday celebration, you were more than excited to spend the night with your friends and the Princess….what you did NOT expect was Griffith being invited as well.

You were escorted to the top floor of the palace. All walls in each guest room were soundproof to avoid unwanted noises from interrupting other guests who were fast asleep. You, on the other hand, had to leave the party early due to your slight drunkenness. While carrying you to bed, your belongings were also brought back to the room beside the bedpost. The guards left you on your own, leaving the door slightly open in case you needed assistance from the servants of the palace.

Hours passed, and you fell fast asleep after feeling quite tipsy at Princess Charlotte’s ballroom party. Things weren’t occurring out of the ordinary, up until the door creaked open. Things weren’t right. Someone entered the room.

You were startled by the door opening, only for it to be closed once again, the lock of the door being heard aloud. It was quite pitch black in the night, the only source of light being the lightning that struck every once in a while. You had no clue of who entered the room, but you were suddenly filled with fear once you came back to your senses. The intrusion was unexpected, and you made a guess on who entered your room in such an ungodly hour. You were right.

It was Griffith.

You were intimidated by the silhouette that appeared before you, but that didn’t give you a reason to cower in fear. In fact, this gave you an opportunity to call for the guards despite being slightly drunk.

“Are you not going to play dumb with me this time, [Name]?” he asked, his anger being quite apparent with his words.

You saw this coming. You recognized that voice—it was that of a commander’s, like he’s always been. Chills ran down through your spine, not because you were afraid of him, but because you were frightened of what was about to happen next.

You felt a sense of urgency it almost hurts to not speak up.

“Griffith? What do you think you’re doing here?! Get out before I call the guards!”

“Do you really want to leave our relationship this badly? Hm?” Griffith asked. “Here I am, asking for one chance to fix the scars of our past, and after all we’ve been through, this is how you repay me?”

“Our relationship was never beyond friendship, Griffith. If you think I’d come back to you for the sake of partaking in your sick, twisted idea of a dream…you are gravely mistaken.”

“You aren’t useful to me just for the sake of my dream. I want you, [Name]. I’ve been watching you all along since we parted ways right in that village. And this time is where I arrive to claim what’s rightfully mine.” Griffith announced, taking five steps closer to your bed as you stared at the door planning your escape route. In an attempt to put both hands on your shoulders, you pushed him away.

“I was never yours.” you replied, bravely. “I wasn’t yours and I’ll never be yours. Please cut me some slack and leave at once, or I’ll have to call the guards on you.”

“The walls are soundproof and the doors are locked. Looks like there’s no room left for you to hide, hm? Just surrender your freedom to me. By surrendering to me, you’ll find peace once we establish our own kingdom.”

“Ever since you found the Band of The Hawk, I’ve already been looking for ways to avoid your company. You just aren’t the one for me, Griffith. I’m better off not knowing you’d engage in such savage battles, having people die and kick the bucket for the sake of achieving your dream.”

“If I can’t have your freedom, then I have no other choice but to force it away from you. I want you in my arms. And I will do anything to make you a part of my dream.”

“No.” you stood up for yourself.

“Are you resisting me….this badly, [Name]?” Griffith asked, ready to pounce onto you. “No. You’re not resisting. You’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“I AM leaving.” In an attempt to stand up and reach for the door outside the guest room, Griffith grabbed you by the wrist with a push strong enough to knock you out towards the queen-sized bed. While you ended up sitting, he took a huge step forward, leaning lower to match your eye level, and forcefully stripped you off by unraveling the straps of your sleeveless black gown. Before you could even utter a word and speak, he pressed his lips right onto yours.

You tried your very best not to kiss him back and show an ounce of enthusiasm in your actions. While his tongue explored you with utmost fervor, you tried to protest with your arms pushing him away and your feet kicking off every obstacle past you. Griffith’s touch, however, was far stronger than you could ever imagine. Your eyes were wide open in shock, trying to escape with all your might though you were already covered in his scent.

Since it was your first kiss, you made an attempt to kiss back in a disorderly fashion so as to piss Griffith off and let him walk away due to your inexperience. But this didn’t stop him. He kissed you in the most aggressive, yet practiced manner imaginable, so far as to render your tongue numb and submissive to his motions. His heavy breathing and humming didn’t help alleviate the situation you both were in either, and you refused to admit that your own childhood friend turned you on.

Griffith wasn’t being gentle around this time, you thought—he had to be straightforward with his motives when dealing with a fragile little thing like you.

You waited like hell for this moment to stop. When Griffith pulled away, you panted hard and set your eyes upon the door.

“Good…..still not taken. Your body is truly miraculous not to feel the touch of another man worthy of your gaze.” Griffith hummed in satisfaction. Forcing your chin to look up at him, he murmured. “Look at me.”

You made a slight effort to look into those eyes you once despised. Griffith’s stare pierced into your very being, you felt as if you were being undressed straight from the way he eyed you from head to toe.

“You will remember this moment from the time we part ways. I want you to dream of this.”

While you were sitting back, Griffith stood upright, taking off his top garment by garment. You thought to yourself that this was your chance—you stood up to walk briskly, only to be found out and pushed back to the bed once again.

“If you think you can escape just because I had other matters to attend to, you are gravely mistaken.” Griffith said.

“What….do you mean by that?” you asked.

“You should be grateful a friend has been willing to give you the attention you so desire. Had I not known you for years, you would have fallen into the arms of the wrong man.”

“Pffft. Talk about being a control freak.” you scoffed. “Let me go.”

“I don’t crave control. I just know what I want.” Griffith replied, undoing his pants to reveal his half-erect member before you.

“Now, suck.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me now, dear.”

Griffith grabbed a fistful of your hair without warning, urging you to wrap your mouth around his cock much to your surprise and unwillingness.

“You must comply unless you want to be tossed around to the peasants of the land. Do this. Do this for my dream.”

“Mmmmhhh! Mmmmhhhh!!!”

Rendered unable to speak, your head was forced to bob up and down Griffith’s length as he moaned in satisfaction to your compliance. You tried to retreat, but his grip just strengthened itself as he forced himself down your throat. You tried your best not to let out a sputtering gag, his thrusts growing more animalistic as he was nearing his release.

You groaned in dissatisfaction as Griffith face-fucked you into oblivion while standing up, his frame bare and naked while you were halfway stripped off your gown. If it were not for the darkness that engulfed the palace’s rooms, you would have mistaken the scene to be that of a brothel’s interior.

Without Griffith’s assistance, you wouldn’t know what to do considering this was your first time pleasuring a man. He continued forcefully pushing your head inward and outward his cock with his powerful hand, so as to set the pace he wanted. He grunted as you let out a cough that signified your struggle against his member down your throat. But he didn’t stop right there. He was close to cumming.

It didn’t take long before Griffith pulled away, holding back his cum as he edged himself to save his release for later. Before you realized things, Griffith unzipped your gown, pushing it down and tossing the clothing elsewhere. He lifted you by putting one hand over your ass, and the other hand on your upper back.

Positioning you to lie down on the bed gave him an opportunity to lunge forward onto you, his face landing on your hard nipple. While he suckled on it gently, his two fingers traced its way to your clit, rubbing the nub fast in such a way that pleasured you. The sounds of his moaning, breathing, and humming did nothing more than to instill a feeling of guilt within you. You felt pleasure, yes, but your guilt for doing something sinful with the man you so despised made you want to hurl.

Griffith pulled away, still fingering you. “Mmmm….all the more to love. You seem to be slowly complying with my ways, dear. I like it.”

“Mmmmmhhhh~”

“Go on.”

After egging you on for a few minutes, Griffith edged you even more with his fingers exiting your entrance, earning a groan of frustration from you. Your eyes were closed and focused on his fingers’ rhythm, only to be interrupted by Griffith’s sudden departure from your clit.

“Gri…..ffith….”

“Hm?”

“Do it again…..please….”

Griffith chuckled. “Anything for my princess. Hmmm….I think you are ready to take me whole. But first, I will be needing this lovely cunt of yours to quench my thirst.”

“Ooooooooohhhh~”

Without a single warning, he slid himself between your inner thighs, spreading them wider. Griffith made an effort to raise your legs to rest just above his shoulders, assuming that of a position where he was about to eat you out.

He wasn’t joking. Griffith started to plant small kisses onto your clit, circling his tongue around as if he was French kissing it. His tongue explored every region of your small pearl, suctioning your most sensitive spot gently as to not accidentally hurt you. He used his two fingers to rub off the slick, prepping it before he finally re-inserted them right into your hole. You retaliated.

“Agh! It burns, help!” you protested.

“Bear it.” Griffith said, slightly frowning. “This will be crucial to prepping you way before you get to have me inside. Now, relax yourself, and do as I tell you.”

Griffith stopped talking at that very moment, seriously eyeing your pussy with great passion and dominion over your body. His face landed in between your labia, licking a strip off of your soaked cunt as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your wet entrance. You yelped, both out of burning pain and pleasure.

Then came Griffith’s proper response, he bobbed his head in a specific direction, eating you out like a crazed animal in heat. He spared no untouched region within your virginal depths, lathering his long tongue around your cunt’s sensitive brown/pink surface. Similar to sucking, he moaned while eating you out for his own selfish pleasure, which aroused you to a point of whispering each syllable of his name repeatedly, with a couple of “yes” that left your mouth.

Noises of whimpers and sloppy gobbling sounds filled the guest room, and since everything was soundproof, yelling out for help considering the party was pointless considering the party long ended and everyone invited were already asleep in their designated guest rooms.

Griffith sped up his pace, unleashing his inner freak as he licked and kissed every spot of your pussy’s semi-interior like a hungry wolf.

“Griffith…..I’m gonna….”

This was a sign that urged Griffith to pull away.

“Hold it off.” Griffith commanded.

Your pussy throbbed HARDER as he stopped eating you out in the middle of your incoming orgasm. This moment was truly not the time, you thought, and what you waited for was Griffith’s final goal—to take you in missionary.

“I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good girl for me, yes?” Griffith asked, letting out a smirk.

You shook your head with all your might, denying that Griffith has been the reason you were soaked up in all this mess. Tears ran down your face, smothering your mascara all over your cheeks even though such wouldn’t be noticed by Griffith, since it was dark.

“Don’t lie to me.” Griffith said, his face strictly maintaining eye contact with you. “Your body tells me otherwise.” He grabbed you by the thighs which closed voluntarily, spreading your legs wider to gain access to your entrance once more. Before even entering you, Griffith teases your clit by rubbing the tip of his cock over it, earning a moan from you in return.

Then comes the hard part. Griffith inserts the head into your entrance, stretching it in a way where it feels like burning to you. He ignores your pleas, focusing on getting his cock to be buried into you in no time.

“Too tight, God be damned.” Griffith groaned. “Shhh, I got you. Shhhhh. You don’t have to worry anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

Griffith thrusted forward, ensuring that his length buried itself deep into your cunt. This earned a yelp from you, as you were not expecting his sudden intrusion into your guts.

“Griffith…..Why….are you doing this? I-”

“It’s because I’m the only one who can make you feel like the most special woman who has ever walked Midland’s ground. Apart from the hordes of men that want you, it is only I who promised to build my own kingdom for us to rule over the weak. You shall be my Queen, my Countess—and by achieving this dream, I would be able to fulfill my utmost duties as a citizen of Midland…..to weed out the poor and unfortunate from the ends of this world.”

“Huh? If that’s it, then I don’t want to-”

“Shut it.” Griffith scoffed. “You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, my love. From our childhood to where we currently are, I’ve always wanted to make you a part of my dream. And no one, not even your family, can stop us from doing anything to achieve it.”

Griffith began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you, the sensation of pain merging with a feeling far more pleasurable. Sounds of fast clapping filled the room, making it smell of sex all over. While doing the do, Griffith placed both his hands on your breasts, fondling and playing around with them as they bounced according to his rough motions.

Griffith set a faster pace this time, his thrusts growing more animalistic and primal. Fucking you felt good to him despite the tightness that clenched around his cock.

“Such a sweet, sweet girl dolled up just for me.” Griffith praised, his heavy breathing intensifying the scene. “I wonder how many men managed to take you in one night and if they’d ever compare to my abilities at present.”

“Ah! It….doesn’t…matter….!!!” you screamed. “Nnnnggghhh…..Griffith!!”

“….Well? What is it, my dear? Cat got your tongue?” Griffith laughed as he bucked his hips mercilessly onto your tight pussy. “Mmmmmm….I can’t wait to have this body all to myself, for the sake of….my dream…..!!!!”

“Griffith…..I can’t…..I can’t handle…..!!!”

“After all, you’re in my control now. So it’s best to surrender before I try anything else.” Griffith whispered as he leaned closer to your ear.

Griffith ruthlessly pressed his body against yours and forcefully kissed you once again, his hips pounding into you like a rabid dog. You couldn’t see him directly in the dark nor speak, since he took advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in and lap at every fluid your mouth had to offer. You could feel him getting close, and as much as you would like to protest your way out of this mess, Griffith sucked your tongue in the most disgustingly experienced way possible.

Not inside….

You thought. “Mmmmmhhhhh, mmmmhhh!!!!”

Griffith deepened the kiss and didn’t look back. He didn’t care as to whether he kissed terribly at this point, for all he wanted was to take full ownership of you. His hips rocked faster and faster, his moment of release coming much closer.

Pulling away, Griffith made a conscious effort to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering inaudible sweet nothings into it like a lover in despair.

“Mmmmmm……All the….more to love…..No one will ever come close to making you feel the same way……”

“Griffith….Not inside……I’m going to—ah!”

“Then do it, love. Grind your way against me. Claw at me like your life depends on it. Show me how much you appreciate my efforts.”

After nutting in you raw, you moaned aloud while Griffith grabbed your hips forward to make sure every last drop of cum unloaded into you. His pacing slowed down as well as the sounds of cheeks slapping against skin.

“You did well, my love. Now open your legs wide and show me who this pussy belongs to.”

You, of course, rode out your orgasm and came down from your high. After the feeling subsided, you closed your legs intentionally out of shame.

“I said….open wide.” Griffith frowned as he used all his might to spread your legs once more.

Despite the sex being over, things didn’t stop there. Griffith shoved three fingers up your pussy, twisting and turning them in order to elicit a moan from you despite achieving a full-on afterglow.

After a while, Griffith pulled away once more after testing the waters.

“You did well, my love.”

Those were the last words you heard before your orgasms led you to fall asleep soundly and peacefully.

[loneworldgazer]

would u be ok with writing a story of guts being a teen single dad having a daughter that he got as a result of one night stand mom dead by childbirth before he joined the band of the hawks then just show what life would be like if Guts had a kid before and after joining band of the hawk and pre-eclipse and post-eclipse I imagine her to be 1 years old when guts fought Griffith for the first time

break the cycle

pairing: Guts x Reader

a/n: hiii i made this into quite a scenario with some headcannons, enjoyyyy!!!

tags: a bit of violence, fluffy to angst, Gut's child is named, slight x reader (fic focuses more on Guts and his daughter)

This girl whose eyelashes flutter softly when his father had wiped the muck under her cheek, passing her an apple slice to cease the squirming that she was doing on Gut's back. His little girl was starved, he had counted the coins and it was enough for a meal tonight. He only managed to snag an apple from a vendor who was generous enough to congratulate him on his latest victory.

He pulled his daughter's hood down, shushing her when she starts whining again. She had a penchant for horses and Guts had walked past a farmer who brought his horses to a water trough, he had to avert things like this away from his needy daughter.

When he went the hill, he was cautious and tapped Eileen on the lips to stay quiet. There were knights and familiar to him was the hilt of the sword he held as he puts his daughter down to hide behind a bush. For good measure, he tied a cloth around her eyes; he didnt plan to show her any spilling of blood today and he hears the horses approaching. Their hooves thump against the ground and the swordsman struck when they come to him, he pursed his lips and hoped that Eileen didn't pull off her blindfold. The neighs of horses would peak that curiousity of hers. He tried to swiftly end their lives, more soldiers coming to each comrades before an arrow pierces his arm.

The chaos had turned silent when the leader emerged and Eileen whipped her head around under the blindfold. Her father had tied it efficiently which made her thrash around in the dark. The rustling of the bushes alerted the other soldiers that had not anticipated backup with how the bushes shook. Some soldiers had approached it, looking away at the spectacle of the rumoured swordsman and their esteemed leader in a show down.

They draw their arrows to the sound but got flung back harshly when Guts had clasped onto their throats, swinging them away from the little girl. The soldiers simply getting close to his daughter had disrupted the duel him and the leader were having and Griffith didn't show mercy. His sword gleamed in the sun, ready to continue the fight and he raises it to Gut's back. His shoulder pad had protected against and he blocked Eileen, growling at the men.

"Stay away from her!"

That anger had made his brows furrow and nerves stand on end. The clash of metal resumed and sparks fly, pushing back Griffith to the hill. The white haired man had nodded to his men to not touch the child, his fight would not be disturbed because of a minor issue and his eyes gleam with such intensity.

What was in front of Guts was hot stew, it was barely stew but Eileen was slurping it up messily. The woman called Casca had altered it so it'd be easier for the little girl to swallow it. Guts was still apprehensive towards these people who only look for his strength, he didn't quite care for himself but he had to for his kid. It was a pipedream to keep her safe all the time but he truthfully wished that he didn't have to teach her how to fight. He'll be stuck in many battles, trapped in the stench of blood and sin and he was forced to face his daughter in that state one too many times.

Guts gripped his sword, he'll fight until he wins, he will win.

------------------------------------

But he didn't, unfortunately. His groggy eyes opened and he sat up from his bed.

He thought about you, the person he let tangle his sheets and grab at the headboard. He wished he didn't went through with his base instincts or his curiousity. You were a cherished friend but was a baby really something he wanted to remember you by? She was a bundle of joy too bright for him and he was somebody that will fight hellfire for (change) but he wasn't sure anymore.

He was visibly frowning at his stew that Rickert lightly tapped him on the shoulder. Guts violently jerked back, kissing his teeth before he looked down at his daughter that was looking through his bag for an apple. He sighed, pulling his bag close to look through but Casca had already had one in her hand.

It was peeled, her knife hanging on her belt as she gifts the little one the treat she really wanted. Rickert's face lit up with a small smile, changing Gut's stew. There was no need for Rickert to do all of that, giving him a raised brow and his jaw clicks with tension.

"Relax, Casca said you should have a taste of the stew she made for the little one,"

Casca didn't turn her head, focusing on Eileen who nearly dropped her apple. Her body was rigid, still so enraged over Griffith's instruction on keeping Guts warm two days ago. She had a warm towel, wiping away at Eileen who was making a ruckus.

Guts stood up, carrying Eileen and snatching the towel from the ravenette.

"She prefers if I clean her up."

He marches off to the river far from camp and Casca could do nothing but grunt. Rickert puts a hand on her shoulder, he just tells her to let the swordsman be that it was quite normal for him to be quite standoffish. She turned up her nose, moving to dump back Gut's soup back in the pot to keep for later.

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Bathtime wasn't tedious. It was quick for the girl to jump out the water because of how cold it is. He stares at the bubbles that fell off her body and the soap he was holding, this was the soap you had made back then. Back then, being a soap chandler had been the moment where you have met Guts. The sweet smelling soap he had was one of your successful projects, spring blossoms being dried up for a long time and being mixed with lye he remembers. Your jumps for joy were ingrained into his head when it actually didn't crumble into his hands like the previous soaps you made.

You had always smelled so nice, spending lots of time collecting flowers and rocks instead of war and it gave him adifferent perspective even if he barely came to see you.

Eileen took a liking to it that it was hard for it to last, Guts chipped bit by bit but she always had some type of problem with being clean, using the soap from top to bottom. The soap was a slippery little thing as it tumbled down the stream. A figure had picked it up, carrying a kettle of hot water, the steam wafting up into the sky. Griffith had came.

He puts down the towels and opened his arms, Guts' eye twitched, was this some kind of joke?

But before he knew it, the little girl had ran into Griffith's arms and hugged him tight.

"Eileen..!"

He called out, her arms fell to her side and Griffith rubs at her back, grinning.

"There's no need for tension, Eileen would like her bath better with hot water."

He takes the time to mix the hot water and cool water together, making it warm enough for her before she pours it all over herself. Guts stayed near and his eyes were narrowed, assessing Griffith. He was too close to his daughter to his liking but Eileen seemed to trust him, tugging on Griffith's trousers for something.

The white haired man held the soap in his hand, washing the girl gently.

"You should stay here, Guts. For a place where you belong, for Eileen."

There was a sharpness in his eyes which meant he'll take no for an answer and suddenly the thoughts of his hands on his daughter made him grow tense. But the girl had nibbled on the leader's finger, wanting him to continue washing her and the light sound of water sloshing about resumed. Guts scoffed, his arms crossed against his chest. Nobody needed to order him around, nobody.

The Band of The Hawks had welcomed Eileen in with open arms

They feel a chill tingle down their spines if Guts regarded them with a threatening look to not fuck with him and his daughter

Casca adored the little one, seeing her to various crafts like origami, flower crowns and such she can do around camp. They didn't need to show violence in front of a child so she stayed here along with the others who opted to take care of her

She glares down at the men who roughhouse each other, not wanting to set an example for the child

Pippin would be used as a lift, the little girl babbling at him for uppies. Guts' job of carrying his child had ceased when the mountain of the man was a playground for Eileen

She liked Pippin's silence, nuzzling into him with incoherent mumbles and brushing into his side when she fell asleep

She was already farmiliar with Judeau when he had cleaned her father's wounds and wiped him in his sleep. He was fond of feeding her, spoon feeding her stew or finely slicing apples for her.

She had recognized him as the cook and he laughs when she points to her mouth, indicating that that was the role she had known him as

She saw Rickert as an older brother, gentle and kind as she walks with him around the camp. It was quite hard for Guts when he wanted to look for her considering they were both so short

Maybe Guts' aggression come from jealousy that his girl had run to and fro with these people and not with her father anymore

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Eileen couldnt keep still. She knew there was something wrong with her dad when he was unconscious for days. Her childish mind deemed him as sick but sick people could still talk, right?

Rickert consoled her, cheeks full of tears and puffy lips from being bitten down so many times from anxiety.

"Your papa's going to be okay, he's strong," Rickert wanted to be sure when he uttered those words but he couldn't swallow down the bile that was going to be coughed up by him, he didn't want Eileen to have another tantrum from him lying to her but saying the truth was far more terrible.

Tiny footsteps filed into the room and Erica was holding a pail of water.

"Eileen, do you want to see Casca?"

Rickert swallowed down a gulp as he squeezed the water from a rag to clean up Guts. She had been particularly scared of Casca because she was not acting like herself. He wasn't sure what had happened to these two but even Eileen could sense it.

Gut's daughter had some kind of strength that allowed her to know what others are feeling but a weakness to not know how to deal with it, this poor soul couldn't handle change. The sight of Casca not acting like the strong, fierce woman she depended on haunted her.

Miraculously, Eileen agreed and ran to Erica to hold her hand and closed the door behind them.

Guts had to slowly accept that Casca was a changed person due to what happened in the Eclipse

What had soothed him a little is his daughter who had hugged him tight when he came back from outside, she was so confused when he had disappeared from the bed and cried so heavily into his chest

He only rubbed at her back, whispering gently and resting his forehead on hers to stop crying and take a breath

Comforting wasn't his strong suit but he stayed with his baby girl until the sniffles she had disappeared

Though Casca had changed in Eileen's eyes, that caring, maternal affection she had was there but she could see the swordswoman was bearing so much pain from the meltdown she had regularly

When they walked away from the house, waving at Rickert and Erica, there was a chip in her heart when she asked herself what had really happened for her father to shield her away from the truth?

Everything was too conflicting for a mind like hers

Thankfully, she was around people who care about her. Erica made sure she was eating as well as Rickert interesting her in crafting again. She was just like her papa, making big swords out of paper and collecting pretty rocks around the house

He couldn't help but smile, she was still the same even if she grew a little taller or worked up a big appetite

Soon it was time for Guts to move on and she had to go but this time, Eileen pushed for him to bring her. She had been left for so many times because of the battles her father has endured and this time, she'll suffer with him too

[e-vay]

So, what's your voice headcanons for the older sonic characters, and aurora?

I picture many of the Sonic cast as young adults now anyway, so for some of them I'd just keep previous voice actors whose performances I've enjoyed, except maybe a couple of dream casting scenarios.

Aurora - Mandy Moore

Sonic - Jason Griffith. Have you heard him do his bits as Sonic lately? He does a more aged-up Sonic and I love it. Hell, I even just love Jason's regular speaking voice, I think it's perfect for an older Sonic even that way.

Amy - If you know me, you know Amy's gotta be Alison Brie~! 😍

Tall!Tails - This might change, but I currently picture Neil Patrick Harris. He's equally good at playing fumbly, nervous characters as he is at playing confident, smartass roles and I think that's the right balance for older Tails in my AU.

Knuckles - Idris Elba

Rouge - Kathleen Delaney (Best Rouge ever imo)

Shadow - This one is the most difficult because it's hard to nail down the voice I hear in my mind as him to one person haha. I like a variety of options for Shadow, ranging from canon voices like Ian Hanlin or Keanu Reeves, plus I like the idea of several other voice actors ranging from the English voice actor for Sylus from Love and Deepspace, or Jensen Ackles or Billy Burke (you can hear both of them as Batman and Commissioner Gordon in this clip), or Steve Blum or even Markiplier! The list goes on and on! I don't know if I have found the perfect voice that lines up with what I hear in my head for Shadow. Just picture it velvety and sexy~!

[bthump]

i keep staring at your art of griffith's broken stare with the bandages wrapped across his face. I think its so interesting to be able to see what is meant to be hidden. very dehumanizing and cruel to him...

Similarly, I just read this ao3 fic about his struggle with recovery in an aftermath where he doesn't go apeshit. I LOVED this fic, istg https://archiveofourown.org/works/609721

it made me think, as a certified expert of griffith, what do you think could possibly have made him happy or at least minorly not-miserable in this state, if anything?

would he be happy to rule a kingdom if he was forced to be a puppet master behind a throne, only writing his wishes for others to bring into action, forever hidden behind a veil, his emaciated muscle-less body shielded from the judgement of others?

would he even try to grow out his hair?

Oh I'm not an artist, I'm not sure which fanart you mean but it would just be a piece I reblogged, not one I drew. I don't want to accidentally take credit for someone's work lol.

Thanks for your interest in my thoughts!

Honestly I view Griffith's dream as about creating a utopia, rather than about becoming a king or ruling a society. It's not about personally having power for him, it's about creating a society where no one has more power than anyone else, or at least, those with more power can't abuse those with less.

So yeah in theory I think he'd be perfectly happy with someone else as figurehead, as long as the kingdom is ruled the way he wants it to be. He'd probably even be happier that way, because I think being a leader is a huge emotional burden to him. It's a role he feels obligated to take on to fulfill his dream, but it makes him miserable and emotionally isolated.

It might not be easy for him to come to understand that someone else could rule in his stead imo - I think he sees himself as uniquely suited for the role, and in some ways that's objective truth, because he does have the looks and personality and charisma to pull it off. It's just a fact that he attracts followers and devotion and inspires strong emotions, he himself almost seems bewildered by it.

But you know, if someone else could do it with him as advisor, I think ultimately he'd be fine with that.

If we're talking post-torture Griffith specifically, then a scenario where he somehow gets to create that utopia despite not being its king would be like the best case scenario possible for him wrt his dream. I'm not sure how he'd get himself into that position (potentially through Charlotte somehow if her love really is that enduring?), but yeah I think he'd thank his lucky stars it all somehow worked out.

I also don't think Griffith really cares much about his looks or even his skills on the battlefield except inasmuch as they help him achieve his dream. I don't think he's egotistical about being the hottest or the best - I think he's practical about it lol. He knows he's hot and he knows he's one of the best and he knows how to turn that to his advantage, but if he succeeded in his goals another way then he'd be fine with that and I don't think he'd be particularly ashamed of his appearance or disabilities?

Liiiike, okay he's definitely got a lot of issues that might be compounded post-torture. For instance, I could see him feeling like his appearance now is a reflection of his true monstrousness and maybe feeling like, eg if people flinch at the sight of him, then that's appropriate given how many lives he ruined to get this far. So it might feed his self-loathing.

And of course in canon he was ashamed of his post-torture body, but imo that's because he sees himself as completely useless and a failure now, and he was afraid of being abandoned, or being a burden to the Hawks. If he achieved his dream, then he wouldn't feel that way.

And yeah I just don't really see him as a prideful person - his impressions of himself seem to be either objectively true ("I can take Doldrey with 5000 men" "I can't defeat Guts now in this situation unless I do it in one risky strike") or negative ("Do you think I'm cruel?" "Am I dirty?") So while I don't think he'd feel positively about his body post-torture, at least not without working through a lot of issues first, I don't think he'd necessary withdraw from others or hide himself, unless that served his goal of achieving his dream (which, tbf, it likely would.)

Also when it comes to his post-torture looks, I think it's worth pointing out that in his nightmare of a potential future with Casca, his hair is grown out again and he looks relatively good. There might be a suggestion of scarring in the way his face is shaded, but it's not enough to detract from his appearance.

There's no reason to think that nightmare is unrealistic - I think the point of it is to be painfully plausible, at least from Griffith's point of view - so I think it's fair to assume that he's not like, permanently disfigured. Whether that makes sense is another story lol, but a LOT of Griffith's torture doesn't make real-world sense. He should be dead with exposed muscle everywhere, so yk, it doesn't really have to be realistic.

ANYWAY all that said, ultimately I don't think achieving his dream of a utopian kingdom would actually make Griffith happy. He'd be thrilled at how things went at first, but then he'd feel like it's not enough to justify how he got to that position and he'd keep climbing and needing more and more to justify all the deaths on the road behind him etc etc. So if his only achievement in this scenario is the dream, it's not going to make him happy.

If he had Guts thrown into the mix, then yeah I think he'd be happy. I even think he could be happy post-torture with just Guts, and no dream, though it would take a while for him to get to a place where he lets himself enjoy living a simple life without changing the world.

But I believe he'd get there if he had Guts at his side - I think that was kind of signaled throughout the last few chapters of the Golden Age. There's a strong sense of missed opportunity towards the end that adds to the sense of tragedy, like Guts realizing he shouldn't have left about ten minutes before the Eclipse lol, or telling Casca he wants to stay while Griffith is still asleep, and Griffith only waking up to hear Casca telling him to go. Moments like that signal that Griffith and Guts and everyone else could've had hope for a happy ending despite everything, if it weren't for fate.

So yeah, in short I think Griffith would consider ruling a kingdom behind the scenes to be perfectly acceptable and if he achieved the dream that way he'd be just as happy as if he'd achieved it publically, which is, ironically, not happy at all without Guts there.

I linked a few other things I've written to support some points I've made here, but this essay is the most thorough thing I've written about Griffith and really covers everything I think about Griffith and his dream and relationship with Guts. No pressure to read it if you're not up for an overly long 4 part essay lol, but I felt like I should mention it just in case more of my points here need some explaining, since I know I go against the grain of a lot of fandom and how they see Griffith.

Thanks for the ask, and for the fic rec!