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dollwrites · 7 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!queen!reader, sex on command, degradation, Griffith is lowkey misogynistic, titty fucking, spit kink, cum marking, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day two [ griffith + tit job ]

“I can be the most perfect gentleman that a lady could require, but I have an sneaking inkling that Her Majesty wants a scoundrel, instead. A dirty mercenary, a ruthless animal, to fuck her the way her king never could.”

you should’ve had him apprehended the moment he murmured those words, close enough to your ear to kiss the shell of it. you should’ve seen him in shackles, whipped and tortured, for daring to speak in such a way to the Queen of Midland, but you didn’t. you stared, straight ahead, and bit your tongue to keep from expelling a breathless moan. you allowed him to leave your side after that, melting into the crowded ballroom, mingling with the other nobles. his eyes lingered on you only for a moment, before they drift away, to keep from being overly suspicious. you had merely stood there, in shock, as you process his willingness to approach you in front of the Courts and your husband, and whisper something so heinous.

something so true.

it had been at your own behest, after all, that the young mercenary would become your plaything whilst fighting for your country, but it had been an arrangement brought to him in secrecy by your ladies in waiting, and he was meant to act discreetly. you glanced around, and realize that no one had been any the wiser. not even your husband, whose sharp eyes seemed to always watch you with disdain, had noticed Griffith whisper to you.

when you look back at him, he’s no longer focused on you, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face that you knew had to be for you, and not the generals he was conversing with. he must’ve caught your flustered seeking from his peripheral vision, and it must’ve amused him to no end.

damn him.

you managed to sit through the majority of the festivities, pretending to be enthralled by your husband’s banter with his retainers, but every so often, you would carve a line of sight directly to Griffith. you would stare at him, admiring each flawless detail from the plumpness of his lips to the long, heavy lashes that fan the apples of his porcelain cheeks, to the silvery curtainous tresses that were so carefully secured in a low ponytail to cascade down his back. he was so beautiful, and you began to fantasize about what his silken locks would feel like if you were to grip fistfuls of them, how his velvety pout will feel as he presses it flush to your sex, the way your back would arch if he pushed his tongue inside your hole, aching and clenching for him…

when you started to shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together, you knew you had to make an escape. you couldn’t go another moment without Griffith in your bed, and so you promptly excused yourself, and several of your servant girls followed you up to your bed chamber.

Griffith’s sapphire gaze was keen enough to notice you leave, and he waited several more minutes, inching towards the exit until he could slip away, completely undetected.

Griffith’s let in to your bedroom before he can knock, and the ladies are swift to leave the two of you alone before he can close the door behind him. “Have you considered my counter offer, Your Majesty?” he asks with a soft tinge of amusement in his voice. he pushes the heavy, wooden lock in place against the door, his glacieresque gems focused only on the way you approached him, staring up at him with sparkling awe in your eyes. “Would you still prefer to have me as you wish, or would you find more pleasure in allowing me the honor to use your body?”

“I don’t want the obedient gentleman,” you blurt out, grasping the thick lapels of his coat, to pull yourself closer to him. “I want the scoundrel. The beast.”

“Is that so…?” Griffith grabs your shoulders, halting you in place as you speak, the ghost of a smirk tickling his lips. “Then the beast is what you shall have.” it’s a whisper, heavy with desire as both of his hands glide down to envelope the shape of your breasts through your gown. the fabric is thick, but as both fists reach up for the neckline, your breath catches in your throat. a swift yank, and silk screams as he tears at the neckline, stretching and ripping until your breasts jiggle free. your nipples harden almost instantly as they’re exposed to the cool atmosphere, and your back arches— the force and carelessness he exhibits in order to expose your chest pulling you off balance. he swoons at the sight, cradling your breasts with both hands. your nipples slide along the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, before he experiments with pinching the hardened buds. you let out a soft whimper.

Griffith’s hands are almost unnervingly soft for a mercenary general, and they’re warm as he kneads your breasts. your head tilts back and you expel a long, heavy breath as he tilts his head to watch your countenance closely. “I’ve hardly touched you, Your Majesty, and you’re already mewling for me.” his pupils are blown out as he tugs on your nipples, and watches in delight as you squirm and moan. “I suppose these pillowy tits of yours are sensitive enough to make you cum all alone…” his knee worms under your multitude of skirts, to press against your sex. with a surprised gasp, your thighs clamp around his leg, but it was already too late. his digit tips roll over your nipples in smooth teases, pressing them like buttons as you squirm and gasp, and grind your slick against his knee. “The king must not appreciate them. But I will.”

groping thick handfuls of squishy flesh, a groan gurgles at the back of his throat as he pushes your tits together, smashing them against each other, and his icy gaze flickers up to you. “Do you know what I love the best about a woman’s tits?” he asks, in a soft baritone that seems to send a quake straight to your core. you moan, breathless, and shake your head, before his own dips low enough to run his tongue in a thin stripe that creeps up the length of your cleavage, before he expels in a whisper, “They’re soft and warm, and when pressed together like this, create such a delicious hole to fuck.”

your head was spinning already at his words, so when his hands glide upwards and grip your shoulders, forcing the Queen of Midland to her knees in front of him, breasts jiggling and exposed and dress askew on your frame, you bent to his will without protest. “There we are. A pretty, obedient queen. Are you so awestruck by the visage of my peasant cock sliding between your royal breasts that you fold so easily?” there’s a faint smile on his kissable pout now, a powerful one, and he grasps hold of your chin with one hand, using the other to undo the complexity of his breeches. he forces your face up, to stare at him directly, and you swoon at the hard grip on your chin. “I will enjoy defiling you, little queen. But what’s even more exciting is that you will enjoy it so much more.”

your face was flushed of its usual tone, eyelids fluttering as they struggle to stay open. the heat between your bodies was almost too much to bear already. “Use me…” you plead, quietly, needy. “Use me, mercenary, degrade me. Do so and I will see to it that you climb the military ranks to your heart’s content.”

this pleases Griffith, and he runs his thumb over your trembling bottom lip, looming over your kneeling frame as he pumps his cock to attention. as it swells, and hardens, your eyeline drifts downwards and you become entranced at the thought, your mouth hanging open in expectancy.

“Such a beautiful mouth, warm and wet,” Griffith purrs, pushing his thumb in to anchor it against the fleshy inside of your cheek, “you know well a woman’s duty and where and how to take a cock, and I’m certain your mouth has been well trained by your husband.” your cheeks heat up with humiliation as he teases your gag reflex with his fingers, you cluck and try to push his fingers out, but they remain, and you only end up dribbling drool out of your mouth with an embarrassed whimper. “But I will need you to save these talents for him, your lovely mouth is your weapon, and you’ve just become my greatest ally in my war for my dream. You will use it so efficiently, pleasing your husband and whispering those persuasive words in his ear, until I have surpassed every general in his army. You will do this for me, yes?” you nod, batting your eyelashes, swirling your tongue around his fingers. Griffith was so breathtaking, and in this moment you were so aroused and at his mercy, that you would’ve agreed to do anything for him. “Very good, my desperate little queen. Now, save these lovely lips for their task, and I will fuck your luscious tits, instead.”

both of his hands find their way to your breasts again, and he takes a step forward, his stance wide imposing as his feet plant themselves on either side of your poofy skirt. the way his thick, hard cock lays against your chest is almost as if it had sought out its new home, and he pushes your breasts to mold around it, forming a tight canal as he teased a couple of strokes. with a slow rock of his hips, his cock tunnels between your breasts, the puffy, pink tip peeking out by your chin, and he rolls his head on his shoulders, eliciting a soft and pleasured sigh. “Very soft.” he croons, closing his eyes, his fingers digging into your squishy tits as his pace starts to pick up. “The perfect sheath for my cock, don’t you agree?”

you were too busy staring at the display, watching his sex glide between your breasts, that you simply elicit a quiet babble of a yes, your arms bent up by your sides, your hands balled into fists.

“My dear queen has never been degraded quite like this, her body used by cock in ways her sweet, little brain couldn’t even imagine,” he all but moans at the realization, working his jaw for a moment. “Look up at me, little queen. Let me see your mouth hanging open, the desire to suck what’s just out of your reach.”

you do as instructed, but you hardly so much as peek before you hear the sound of him expectorating— his spit splattering against your top lip and dripping down into your waiting mouth, mixing with your own that had gathered in a thirsty pool. you flinch, surprised, but then look up at him, wide eyed.

no one’s ever spit on you before.

and you liked it.

a lot.

Griffith’s grin is loose, his lips parted as he starts to pant, bucking his hips more forcefully, faster, fucking your titties with reckless abandon, kneading them roughly.

“You liked that, did you?” it was as if he could read your mind, his icy blue irises seeming to glow in the dim candlelight of your bedroom. “You are more and more fetching, the filthier I discover that you are.”

“A—again,” you whine, only to be graced with another shower of spit, and you moan, gratefully, before blurting out, “Thank you!”

the depravity in your voice was something you’d never heard before, especially not from yourself, and it should’ve been humiliating. but it wasn’t. it was exhilarating and liberating.

“Close,” Griffith grunts, his chest heaving, still adorned with his ruffled tie. the fact that he was still mostly clothed made this encounter all the more promiscuous, “I’m right there… right… there…” he was grinding his teeth, because you’d tucked your chin, pressing your lips together in a lazy O, letting his tip kiss the shape over and over. each time he drew back, you could taste the sticky sweet precum he left stamped to your lips. “Ah,” Griffith releases a sound, a croak as he grabs your hair at the root, pulling your head back and allowed his other hand to fall from your breasts, taking hold of his cock at its mighty base. his fingers rub against the fluffy, silver pubic hair his cock sprouts from, before starting to pump up and down wildly. “I will paint those beautiful tits of yours, my whorish queen. So you can smell of me. And remember how thoroughly I’ve fucked them—“

he hardly gets the words out before his release erupts from the swollen head of his cock, casting long, warm white streamers over your heaving breasts. your hands scramble to push them together, mimic the way he had to fuck them, so you may gather the entirety of his semen upon their expanse, and you peer up at him with wide, happy eyes. “G—Griffith…”

his ragged breath starts to slow, his platinum bangs damp and sticking to his forehead and his temple when he finally releases your hair with a heavy, satisfied sigh, “Did you enjoy that, Your Majesty?”

watching him come undone and quickly recover had your mind going blank, and your thighs sticky with your need, but you thoughtlessly nod, attempting to form the words themselves, but none came to your lips.

it’s all right, though, because Griffith pulls you to your feet. “Lovely, because now I will bend you over your vanity and tend to that sopping wet cunt of yours.”

#berserk griffith #griffith smut #griffith x reader #griffith x you #bersek #berserk smut #berserk x you #berserk x reader #berserk anime #kinktober 2023

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rae-pss · 6 months

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what if... what if JUDEAU enjoys it when his s/o gives him those silly tip-of-the-nose kisses.

like, you just go towards him and let your lips meet the tip of his freckled nose in a sweet, quick peck.

and he just gets a little embarrassed and, with that soft red tone now decorating his cheeks, he looks away.

#— thoughts.#— berserk.#i swear i don't think about him while doing anything...#judeau #berserk judeau #judeau x you #judeau x reader #judeau berserk #berserk x reader #berserk x you

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killercursor · 5 months

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

man was ready to fight someone for his fake wife.

#spy x family #loid forger #agent twilight #yor briar #yor forger #now imagine them post-reveal and yor comes home injured #he's gonna go berserk i tell you #AND IM LIVING FOR IT

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pfpanimes · 4 months

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⌕ berserk - griffith.

like or reblog if you save/use.

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pellaaearien · 4 months

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My love should wear a warning sign

Fawney Rig's been sold. Hob Gadling has some unfinished business.

“Fawney Rig’s been sold.”

Hob chokes on his hot chocolate, coughing through the scalding liquid before looking up at Johanna with streaming eyes. “What?” he demands, voice reedy.

Constantine’s eyes are dark and steady as she watches him. “Sounds like the money’s run out,” she says, not even trying to pretend that she’d come by the information incidentally. She’d been looking into this. Hob can see it in the sharp, bitter curve of her smile, the quiet relish with which she offers it. “The old man’s been moved to hospice for treatment. Sleep disorder.”

Hob knows the vindictive grin spreading across his face is the mirror of Johanna’s. Oh, Dream. You wondrous thing. He has absolutely no desire to get involved in Dream’s personal revenge, but this is something he has to do.

“Oh yeah?” he says casually, like the news is of passing interest. It’s… a little bit scary, actually, how little the knowledge that the house is empty now actually matters to him.

He’d have burned it to the ground regardless and knows he wouldn’t have lost a wink of sleep over it, even without Dream’s influence.

Johanna hands him a glass vial. Hob can’t tell what’s in it. It looks clear but he can feel the weight of it in his palm. The bottled potential. Hob eyes it, and then her.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Free of charge,” Johanna says breezily, then turns and leaves.

(Read on Ao3)

#Dreamling fic #Dream x Hob #The Sandman #Hob goes berserk on the ruins of Fawney Rig #that's it that's the fic #not a rescue fic #arson #platonic if you squint #pella writes

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jean0farc · 6 months

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#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ; ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖈𝖜: RAPE/NON-CON.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

Finally finished the fic after months of procrastinating.

This fic is not proofread or beta read.

Don’t try this at home, kids!

….And some rape down there. I don’t condone any of this irl (no shit). It is to note that it is part of the story’s progression and I only intend to explore such dark elements like the series always intended to do so in canon.

The “don’t like, don’t read” rule applies here. Kindly heed the tags one more time before proceeding.

“Griffith…I…” you paused as you caught your breath. You were failing to fake self-confidence at this point in time, your legs shaking as you could only watch yourself give into the fear that made its way through your head and heart.

“I…wasn’t expecting your presence here…I….”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed in response, letting out a low hum. He was getting closer this time, giving you less time to react and run for your life.

You took a step backward, pressing your hands against the dresser for some support. You knew you’d hit a dead end the way you clumsily hit the wall, groaning softly in response. You waited and waited for a sign to attempt running past Griffith and escape the palace with all your will’s might. You still had your bathrobe on, which made you partially vulnerable to him, but you didn’t care. You just had to run away from the man who has been invading your personal space.

“Worry not, princess. I came not to disturb your slumber. What I ask for is one simple thing that I believe you and I could share. If I’ll allow you to do so, that is.” Griffith said.

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my Kingdom? This is my lair, as bestowed by my father before me. The fact that you’re trespassing does not make you worthy of seeing me at my-“

Your words were cut off by Griffith, his cunning tone making itself clear in the dead silence. “And who told you that this kingdom was entirely yours? Remember, your induction to queenhood was only taken into consideration because of your father’s sudden death. Besides, it’s not as if you have any experience in leadership whatsoever.”

“Are you underestimating me?” you asked, slightly annoyed with his attitude.

“Why, of course not.” Griffith said as he took brisk steps forward, making it almost impossible for you to escape. “Want to know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I killed your father.” Griffith said, shamelessly. He walked three steps forward, caging the both of you within a small distance.

“You son of a bitch! Why….why would you do such a thing?! My father has been-“ you were interrupted once again.

“I had to do it. There could only be one way to test as to whether Midland is fit to be led by a Queen all on her own…..and turns out, the ‘Queen’ in question has no experience.” Griffith said.

“How dare you insult me in my own palace!” you exclaimed. “I’m leaving!”

“Not when you’re barely dressed like that.” Griffith smiled deviously. “Now…..come here….”

“What….what are you implying?” you asked, attempting to charge your way to the exit of your bedroom. “N-never mind….I’m fucking leaving.” As you charged your way to the exit, you felt two hands wrap around your waist from behind. No, it was too late. Griffith caught you. Pulling you backward, he lifted you to your own bed and started stripping down until he wore nothing but his Behelit.

You attempted to escape once more, only for Griffith to pin you down to the bed and press his lips into yours. You fought against the sheets and turned your head to break the kiss, but your attempts were rendered futile as it only prompted Griffith to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Griffith kissed you harshly, and it frankly felt like kissing an untamed beast cornering its prey. You never knew Griffith was ...quite an expert at this, his mouth slightly nibbling at your lower lip everytime he retreated.

After finally pulling away from you, Griffith latched his face onto your neck, positioning himself next to your right ear. “Give yourself to me, Princess. After all, your Kingdom….will soon be mine.”

“No…NO!!!!” you exclaimed.

“A little stubborn, are we?” Griffith asked, tilting his head. “Well, it’s not like you’ve stood a chance. We’re taking off this one, okay?”

You kept tugging at your bathrobe’s ‘belt’ to keep it away from the filthy man on top of you. “Griffith, I don’t want this, please…..”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Too stubborn.” Griffith said, his touch growing angrier as he grabbed your bathrobe by the waist, curling his hand to a fist. Using his other hand, he slid a sleeve of the wardrobe off your shoulder, revealing your bare shoulder and right breast. Griffith dug right in, his lips kissing your hardened nipple as he engulfed his mouth to suckle it whole. While doing the do, he used his right hand to slide off the other sleeve of your bathrobe, exposing your other breast and stripping you down to your naked form. Griffith pulled away from your nipple, impressed with how he rendered the Queen of Midland helpless under his touch.

“Mmmm……what a pretty little thing you make, just for my kingdom.” Griffith let out a satisfactory hum. “This will be a rather fun time showing them who’s deserving of the throne.” Next thing you knew, Griffith was about to go down on you, positioning himself around the area of your waist.

“Don’t resist, Princess. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs wide open.” You hesitantly obeyed, up until Griffith grabbed you by your inner thighs, spreading them wider and raising them. Finally, he slipped your legs up his shoulders. It felt dirty having someone’s face right up your pussy, especially since this was your first time. Your mind wandered as you closed your eyes, hoping everything you just witnessed was just a dream. But no, it wasn’t. You fought against Griffith’s clutches, tugging at his hair and pushing him away.

But this just prompted him to dig right in, lapping at your fluids as he used his hands to part your lips for better tasting. You muffled a moan from the pleasurable feeling, covering your mouth with one hand. Griffith’s tongue worked you in fast, yet practiced motions—the tongue moved swiftly and curled just the right amount to send you shivers down your spine, earning muffled whimpers from you.

Granted, vibrators didn’t exist in the Medieval Era of Midland, so you might as well indulge in that feeling of someone’s tongue right up your pussy.

Griffith withdrew from eating you out for a while, his breathing and humming loud enough to send you goosebumps. “Mmmm…. You’re already this wet from a little kissing and heavy sucking. I wonder how it would be like to have you sing while having myself fully inside you, to have you clench around me while I slowly take what’s rightfully mine.”

“L-let go!!!!” you screamed. “I don’t want this!!!”

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, Princess. After all, you’re something…..” Griffith said, strict and unwavering. “Magnetic.”

Griffith moaned as he dug right back in, his tongue hovered over your clit. He started tracing small circles in a slow pacing, which left you impatient and begging for more. You tugged into his hair trying to fight him off, but as previously stated, you were left with no defenses against his strong grip.

“Griffith!!! Oh God…..!!!! I’m gonna…..!!!”

The feeling gave you that guilt, guilt for enjoying this man’s advances on you, and guilt because you just couldn’t believe your sense of authority was being challenged by a man of common birth.

But Griffith refused to stop. No, he didn’t stop suckling at your clit gently to give you a break. Griffith was merciless in the bedroom, leaving you with no choice but to accept the fate you’ve been accustomed to.

“Agh! Griffith!!! Stop….!!!!” you moaned out loud.

Griffith’s tongue kept going, and it wasn’t long before he inserted two digits inside your entrance without warning. He just didn’t care. His tongue slowly picked up the pace, speeding up and finally making you reach that sweet, sweet climax you’ve been waiting for. You fucked back subconsciously against his tongue, riding out your orgasm until it was ready to subside. After coming down from your high, you suddenly realized Griffith was looking down at you icily with his bright blue eyes, his body towering over yours despite lying down in bed.

You were screwed. What was about to happen next?

“Hmmm…..perhaps you are ready to take all of me. I’m going to fuck you so good you’d actually forget being the Queen of Midland.”

“No…..NO!!!!” you exclaimed, attempting to get up and reach for the door. You were stopped dead by Griffith once again, leading him to push you back to the mattress and grabbing you by the legs. Spreading them wider, Griffith let go of your legs, only to stroke his length before initially inserting it in your entrance. Slight precum formed through a pearl-like shape at the slit of his cock, adding lubrication to the process of entering you. Before you knew it, Griffith made efforts to adjust and bury his length within your vagina, though you ached in retaliation.

“Aghhh!!! It hurts! It burns! Let go!”

“Hush, princess. I know what I’m doing.” Griffith said as he spread your legs open for a better view. He adjusted himself by taking slow yet sure steps in burying his length into you, filling you to the brim. You were at this point begging to be freed from his grasp, though your fainting strength was no match for him.

Placing his hands on your wrists, Griffith pinned you down and started thrusting his hips in a slow, yet ambitious pace. You bit your lip to hold back your moans, but it was all for naught. You let out a small “uh” while he rocked in and out, sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air as he leaned closer to your ear to speak.

“You don’t stand a chance against ruling Midland.” Griffith muttered at an intimate distance from you.

“What…..Huh…..?” you whimpered, your breasts being grabbed as it bounced from Griffith’s thrusts. “What….do you me-ngggh!” you grunted, trying to resist him by trying to get up. “I owe you nothing! Just please, let me rule my Kingdom in peace! I’ll do anything…..anything….but this…..!!!”

“Surrender your pride, little one.” Griffith said as he caught his breath. “I want you to dream of this.”

As a means of defending yourself, you attempted to grab Griffith by the hair to pull and tug on it roughly. However, your efforts to distract Griffith failed. You had to take responsibility for what had to happen next, and it was all because Griffith wanted a taste of your kingdom.

“I have every right to follow my dream, princess. And I want you and your kingdom surrendered to me. That is the pinnacle of achieving my dream.”

“You’ll…..you’ll never…..have my kingdom…..” you fought your way to speak in the midst of denying the pleasure Griffith gave you.

“You’ll take whatever I deem right to give you, princess. After all, your kingdom and this body will be mine.” Griffith said.

You screamed as loud as you could that the servants and every guest would hear you. The walls were soundproof, but you didn’t have a choice.

“Please!!!! I don’t want this! Please get off!!!”

“You do know screaming out for servants to assist you won’t do your kingdom justice, right? Mmmmm…..”

Right on the dot, Griffith stopped thrusting, pulled out, and aggressively flipped your body over that you were facing the bed. With one fell swoop, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pinned your head to the pillow to muffle every moan and protest you had up your sleeve. Without warning, he repositioned himself right up your entrance, taking you from behind.

“This is a far better idea to keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” Griffith commanded.

“Mmmmmhhhh…….mmmmhhhhh!!!!”

The sounds of lewd clapping resumed, Griffith’s cock milking every last bit of your pussy’s juices with fervor. There was no turning back now, and he was truly getting at it, without any form of warning or informing you of any discomfort felt. It was like Griffith only cared for his own pleasure and never left crumbs of remorse for your wellbeing. This left you scarred—physically, emotionally, and most significantly, spiritually.

“Mmmmmm……I’m getting quite close.” Griffith smirked as he leaned forward. “What are you going to do about it, princess? Squirm? Run away?”

Your eyes widened at his remark, your body telling you to escape as he was nearing his release. You certainly did not want to carry his child, nor want to do anything with the monster who pounded on you animalistically.

“Noooooo!!!!!!” your voice protested while being muffled by the pillows where your head rested.

“As I said, you’ll take whatever’s been given to you. Now….”

It wasn’t long before your body betrayed you. You felt your climax approaching despite being against the thought of Griffith fucking you. Subconsciously, you fucked back, trying to get Griffith’s cock deep in you before you could feel his fluids leaking straight from your soaked cunt.

Three.

Two.

One.

Your moans and grunts filled the pillow, adding to its warmth while Griffith bit down your neck out of extreme pleasure. His thrusts sped up as he began to feel ropes of cum shooting itself inside you before pulling out. And the feeling was mutually GOOD. You let out a groan as your muscles relaxed, Griffith moaning as his cum began to leak out from your newly filled cunt. You were soaking wet and drenched in sweat as Griffith stayed inside you for long.

You were now marked as his. You didn’t know what to do at this point as you were deflowered after your coronation day.

“Sleep well, princess. Provided you are to raise a child from our time together, just let me know. We can build a kingdom where you could rule by my side.”

You couldn’t respond, which prompted Griffith to flip your body back to lying on your back. It was truly a tiresome night, filled with intensity and passion as Griffith stole everything from you.

You just never stood a chance.

Your eyes suddenly admitted defeat, staring up at Griffith as he looked down at you with a look of an angel. He was charming, so to speak, but heavily dedicated to what he promised to achieve.

And he achieved it.

He achieved his dream.

#griffith x you #griffith x reader #berserk griffith #yandere griffith #griffith berserk #griffith #berserk anime #berserk manga #berserk x reader #smut #berserk #fanfiction #x reader #yandere x reader

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bitternace · 4 months

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Any number? 23 and saïx :)

couldn't count all the ways that i've died for you

[ID: a digital drawing of saix from kingdom hearts. He is shown from the hip up, his body in 3/4's and his face in profile. He is shadowed in warm tones. He has a neutral expression, and he's standing straight.

The background is transparent except for a circle that lays from the middle of his shoulders and upwards, with three sections that have a slightly bigger circumference where one to three, seven to eight, and eight to nine would be on a clock. All scenes are blue tones with a noise overlay. these three are all from saix's perspective.

In the first, there is a cloaked figure shown from the waist down, the tip end of young xehanort's keyblade leans forward and some of it goes out of bound, tiled floor as a background. The second one is saix's hand reaching for kingdom hearts. The third is his hand reaching towards Lea, who lies on the floor of radiant garden's lab.

The rest of the circumference is a labyrinth wall in keyblade's graveyard, with a harsh diagonal line of light on the upper half. Most of the circumference is lined black, except from nine to one o'clock, lined white. /End ID.]

#here ya go! :]#typhra #hi dear!!! you're probably gonna see this a little later than when i'm posting but mwah mwah #i didn't know what to do at first!! the og idea was using 'you color me in from my skin to my bones' with berserker saix #then 'are you lost? Take my hand' (see: subject x) but couldnt figure it out and then this idea came to me and i went on a frenzy (jesting)#i'm also not great @mouths/teeth but i will eventually work on figuring teeth out. I'd love to do a more elaborate berserker saix one day #anyway this was so much fun ty for the ask :]#there's a lot of trivia for this one #i told typhra right away but when the ask came in i was currently listening to no.23 of the list #this song was a runner up for the lyric i would slap over that is/alea kissy pic i drew months ago #which is funny to me #There was another piece of trivia but i'm drawing a blank hold up #saix kh #nano does reqs #my doods #oH YEAH #when i originally said 'this is done!' The time stamp (....i work slow) was 8:07 and after i noticed some details #it became 8:09 which i think is hilarious since #8/7 as his new/old org number and 8/9 as eight and death number?? okay damn #hilarious universe tysm

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ghostlyexpertpeanut · 6 months

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୨୧ , guts x GN!reader.

( first meeting headcanons )

written by ISHA.

tags fluff, shyness, sfw

. . .

you'd met guts in a tavern by the outskirts of midland, drinking a filthy whiskey you had not paid for. there weren't a lot of people so you basically had the place to yourself, minus the bartender shooting you wary looks. it was quiet and you enjoyed it.

and then, an apostle attacks. the large beasts destroys the tavern to a large pile of wood and stone and you're sure there's no way they'd be able to mend it back together. you're still downing your bitter drink when the apostle takes notice of you behind the now wrecked bar. you had taken shelter with the bartender, but by the looks of it he's long gone, impaled by a spear to your right.

you are definitely alone now.

but then a tall man jumps atop of the apostle with a freakishly large sword and slides off its head with one clean swoop. the grotesque head falls and rolls along the floor by your feet, followed by a trail of blood as it's eerie eyes stare up at you.

shocked, you drop your glass with a gasp. too busy worrying about the blood staining your silks, you miss the loud stomps of heavy boots approaching you ahead.

"are you alright?"

you snap your head up at the deep voice before you, gazing up at a bruised yet oddly handsome face. his dark hair is unruly and frames his solemn features rather nicely. the man seems to have lost an eye, if the scar travelling down his eyelid was of any indication. but truthfully, it was kind of sexy. your saviour wears a stoic expression, awaiting your answer impatiently.

"oh of course i am, now that you're here." you wink, not expecting the man to catch on.

but he does, his face flushed red. he rubs the back of his neck and attempts to avoid your longing gaze, though it's futile in the end; you have gorgeous eyes.

"guts," he coughs out suddenly, and when you raise a confused brow at him, he repeats himself regardless of how his heart thumps loudly against his ribs, "the name is guts."

his name is odd, that's for sure. but the way he eyes you up and down like you're destined to be devoured by him, isn't so bad.

#guts #guts x reader #guts berserk #berserk x reader #x reader #guts x you #guts x gn reader #gn reader #berserk

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 1 month

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VH - Lost Soul

(tw: it’s backstory time for Vampire Hero, and it isn’t very nice. Lots and lots of torture mentions.)

Vampire Hero was in hell, although not for the reasons Villain thought.

According to his watch, he’d been trapped in this maze for hours. Amid the many gifts his vampire nature had given him, a sense of direction wasn’t among them. He’d tried to punch the walls, but that would have taken too long to burst through them. They were even thicker than the skull that had thought of such a stupid thing to build. What he could do was leaving a dent to make sure that yes, he’d been there before. He had his phone on him, but there was no wifi, so no way to use his GPS. He had very little battery left anyhow– he had emptied most of it to send his wife pictures of bats on his way, which was as far as he was concerned a very good and judicious use of it. All of that was already a bore, but to make the game even funnier, the labyrinth was full of traps.

Full of pathetic traps. The ground collapsed under his feet, rocks were falling on him, all of that accomplishing nothing – but it was annoying enough that it disrupted his concentration, preventing him to find a way out. That was not the main problem, though. There were screens everywhere, too high to reach, and Villain. Never. Stopped. Talking.

“What is good and evil ? Do you know for sure what the limit is ? Good is supposed to follow the law, but is the law always good ? Isn’t it pride to do what feels right ? You think you want to stop me, but aren’t you being selfish by doing what you want ?”

She’d kept going like that for hours now. Nails on a blackboard would have sounded nicer. Not only the words were as hollow as a dead snail, but the inflection of that pompous voice was unbearable. Vampire Hero was seriously tempted to hit his head against the wall to stop hearing anything, but that didn’t seem like it’d work in the long term.

At his limit, he stepped up, his lips pinched, and finally yelled back:

“Four words. Grow the fuck up.”

“That’s all you have to say ? You’re not much for philosophy.”

“You call that philosophy ? I hate to break it to you, but knowing that good and bad are social constructs is not some kind of genius insight. All I see is a kid yelling at me that she’s very smart. You don’t give a crap about all of this. You just want to prove to yourself how very superior you are.”

“Do you think you’re better than me ?”

“The bar is low.”

“Oh, because you’re good now ?”

Vampire Hero stopped dead in his tracks:

“Even before, I was better than you."

He raised his arms and bared his teeth, his voice loud:

"You think that you’re bad ? You’ve got nothing on me ! I lured people and made them dance with me over broken glass. I had them rot blindfolded in animal cages for days until they had to lick their own blood. I had cozy nights with them having a friendly little chat in the living room while I was drinking from a corpse, and they knew that if they broke they were next. I made them starve and eat their loved ones. And I loved it ! I loved all of it ! I loved the light dying in their eyes. I thought I was clever ! I am half the reasons you’re shaking at night !”

“Zdiiiiiiiingbonnng,” made the rock on Hero’s head. He sighed in exasperation and stopped talking, wiping gravel from his hair.

“I know about you.” said Villain. “The hero agency’s lackey. Aren’t you ashamed ? You were a great prince, once.”

“Actually, I never was really tall.”

“Go ahead, hide yourself behind this kind of childish retorts. But admit it: you’ve sunk low. You arrest people who weren’t caught like you and you bring them to the authority, like a good dog. Has it ever occurred to you how much of a failure you’ve become ?”

“No.”

“Then why did you stop ?”

“If I tell you the story, will you finally shut up ?”

“Perhaps.”

“Worth it.”

Vampire Hero jumped over a couple of spikes, groaned when he realized that his jeans had a new hole, and said:

“Once upon a time, asshole, I was living happily in my castle all alone. I was rich, I was immortal, I had everything I wanted, and what I wanted was a lot of toys.”

He glanced around him, noticed nothing that indicated he was on the right path, and sighed.

“By toys I mean humans, of course. I chose among the prettiest, kindest, bravest, and I tortured them to death. I hurt them until they didn't have anything to break. I was good at it. I experimented things that would give you and all of you so-called Supervillains nightmares for years. But, you know. Decade after decade, still doing the same thing – I was getting bored. I felt empt- aw man, a dead end again ?”

He turned on his heels, swearing. That was obviously the wrong way to solve his problem. The walls were smooth and impossible to climb, so it had to be arranged. He caught a rock and throw it against the hard surface with a little more strength than necessary.

“Well, anyway. I heard there was a great conqueror who wanted the world. I made my first travel since decades, by curiosity. I wanted to see by myself who could challenge me.”

“And you fought him and you lost ?”

“I told you to shut up. I met her, and not long after I was her lucky, lucky husband. I never had her ambition, but of course I supported her. She encouraged my own little hobby in return, so I became her special torturer. My life was even more perfect, and there was this void inside me, and I hated it, and I didn't understand it. And what happened happened. I tortured the wrong person.”

“Define wrong ?”

“It was the daughter of a vampire hunter.”

“A poor choice.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. The guy was really good at his job. He was already pissed off because of the world-conquering plan, but after I did that, well, he cursed my wife and I – oh, enough with this.”

Punctured by rock impacts, the wall in front of him wasn’t so smooth anymore. Vampire Hero took a run-up, jumped and landed on the top of it. He had a nice view on the labyrinth now. For the first time, he took the right direction.

“ That’s cheating,” complained Villain.

“I don’t care.”

“What then ?”

“What then ? I had a bad century. The hunter couldn't kill me, so he drank my blood to prolong his own life and tortured me. He got good at it, too. I felt what I’d made the others feel, but only at first – after ninety years it was back to nothing. I was 300 years old and reality was fading. I was a leech. I hadn’t made a thing for myself.”

“You mean you went soft because of a little torturing?”

“No. I got old. When you have a couple of centuries, this torture-people-to-death shit doesn’t have the same kind of kick anymore. You try to get creative, but it doesn’t help. You feel nothing. So there’s nothing else you can do but stop. And speaking of stopping, it’s your turn.”

Vampire Hero was now at the center of the labyrinth. He jumped to a silver door, decided he was too done with the whole thing to use the knob, and broke it open.

Villain turned towards him, a small smile on her face, and opened her arms in a welcome gesture:

“Behold, vampire ! This room have been made of silver walls and floor. You won’t be able to enter without squirming in agony and -

Vampire Hero stepped in. Villain braced herself for his cries of pain, but there was none. He still looked bored out of his mind. There was a long silence.

“That’s – that’s not possible.”

Hero laughed. A slow, sinister laugh that made Villain’s eyes open wide.

“What are you ?” she whispered. “You can’t be a vampire. You should be crawling on the ground.”

“Don’t you listen ? I told you I’ve been tortured for decades. You know what an immortal body does when it regenerates back for the hundredth time ?"

He pointed to himself. There was a subtle change in his appearance. He still looked like his unimpressed self, but his usual lightness was replaced by something much darker. It was his eyes. Staring into them was like gazing into some horrible, nameless abyss. There was nothing human about them. They could only belong to some ghastly creature who'd lived centuries, not particularly nice ones.

Vampire Hero chuckled, and Villain shuddered.

"It gets tougher," he only said. "I’ve lost touch and taste. I feel nothing. Nor warmth or cold, and certainly not pain. My body is cut from the outside world. There's not much that feels real to me. You know what it is?”

He walked towards Villain, who took a step back and said:

“I hope you realize you’re monologuing yourself.”

“Habits die hard. I want to go back tonight and kiss my wife on the top of her head, just in the middle. It’s our habit. That’s all that matters. If I have to be on this side to support her, so be it. I don’t care about evil or good, and it won’t prevent me to eat your vocal chords if you’re off again. So, are you going to keep talking or finally shut the hell up ?”

“You know what, I think I’m good.”

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

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kittysdarkcloud · 2 months

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Here some drawings i did recently!!

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dollwrites · 7 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!princess!reader, king!stepdad!griffith, stepcest, cuddlefucking, reader is a griffith simp and also a brat, griffith is brutally honest and also kind of misogynistic, griffith calls reader ‘ little girl ‘, implied age gap, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day nine [ griffith + stepcest ]

“Look at me.”

you don’t.

“Look.”

poking your lower lip out in a childish pout, you purposefully avert your eyes. turning your face down into the pillow as if refusing eye contact was punishing your stepfather in some way. he sighs, albeit softly, and you feel his long, slender fingers grip your chin, before forcing your face back towards him. you close your eyes, instead, but only do so for a millisecond.

“Look. At. Me.”

you have no choice now. even though Griffith’s tone rarely raised ( and was, in this moment, a soft whisper ), the edge of his baritone was a sneaking growl that rumbled in his throat, but you’d learned to pick it out and understand when he was at his wit’s end with you. his grip firm and squeezing your chin, holding you in place.

finally, you obey. your eyelids flutter as your vision comes back, and you blink a few times until the blur goes away. almost tears, but you’d managed to push them back.

your bedchamber was dark, except for the pale moonlight spilling through the open curtains that catches Griffith’s figure and casts a silvery glow against his flawless features. your face is inches from him, lain on your side with your breasts smushed against his chest, your eyes more than willing to drink in every inch of his countenance. he isn’t smiling, but he’s not scowling, either. his stoic expression is all too familiar.

“What an insolent little girl you’ve become.” he mutters, and you pout even more. “That’s my doing, isn’t it? I spoil you too much.”

you scoff at that— you want to disagree with him. hell, you want to argue that the king doesn’t give you enough attention as it is, he’s much too occupied with your mother and their marriage to give you any kind of real affection, and the time he did spend with you was always under the guise of night time. when no one was awake to witness him tiptoeing into your bedchamber to fuck you.

“Stop your pouting,” he instructs, angling your face toward him. he moves closer, and for a moment you think he’s doing so to kiss you. your lips part, your eyelids droop, and you wait for that sweet, sweet kiss you yearn to taste. the feeling of his plush lips caressing yours. but he doesn’t kiss you. his breath is a soft wave against your tiers as his own linger, close enough to tickle yours. “And move your hips more. I know you love it when I’m deep inside you like this. So show me.”

“Can you sleep in here tonight?” you ask, biding your time.

but when one, graceful hand careens downward to grasp your thigh and hook it up around his slender waist and he answers a simple, “No.” you huff and puff, but obediently wind your hips in slow strokes. feeling every inch of him fill you, you let out a pleasured sigh.

you wished you could have this all the time.

you wished he would stay, so you could wake up in the early morning, when the sun was just starting to rise, and wrap your lips around the cock you loved so much.

you wished he would hold you like this until you fell asleep, with his and your own body joined in a way that was meant only for man and wife.

“Please? Just this once?” both of your hands rest on his shoulders, keeping yourself close to him as you fuck yourself with his cock. slow and deep. a mine-melting rhythm. “Hnnnn… please—“

Griffith cuts into your begging with a low moan, allowing his hand to fall from your face and glide between your body and his. fingers dipping between your hips, the pads rub slow circles around your swollen button until you swoon, your walls fluttering spastically as he stimulates your clit. “Tighter. There you go. Good girl,” he mutters, his eyeline dropping to your lower body rocking back and forth as his breath catches, “clench for me. Let me feel you milk me.”

it was hard to stay mad when he praised you— though you knew he did so simply to placate you, you cling close to his chest and whine. “Why— why couldn’t you have married m-me?” you were starting to pant, now. the passion of the moment overtaking your senses and tightening every muscle in your body.

“Oh, love.” Griffith croons, but you can hear not a single ounce of real emotion behind the term of endearment. his lips graze yours, his voice a husky whisper. “Marrying your mother has given me my own kingdom, an army, and hundreds of loyal subjects. What could you possibly offer me other than a tight, wet cunt?”

a stunned silence befalls you, and humiliation screws your expression into one of pathetic submission, realizing that he would never care for you the way you care for him. it would be something you would have to live with, after all. being his set of holes when he needed his balls drained, but an afterthought any other time.

his sapphire gaze flickers back to your face, and though he doesn’t smile, there’s an aura of satisfaction and victory that engulfs him, washing over you, too. “Being your father allows me so much more power. Over Midland. Over your mother. And over you, my pert, little plaything.”

#griffith #griffith smut #griffith x reader #griffith x you #griffith imagine #berserk #berserk x reader #berserk x you #berserk smut #griffith berserk

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rae-pss · 7 months

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JUDEAU looks like he'd love to receive some head massages and has his hair combed while he rests his head in a lap...

#— thoughts.#— berserk.#trying not to think about him #yet here i found myself thinking about his stupid pretty face #judeau #judeau berserk #berserk x reader #berserk judeau #berserk x you #judeau x reader #judeau x you #judeau x y/n #berserk headcanons

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 8 months

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you know i just had a thought. i might be misremembering or forgetting details, but i don't think guts was that much taller than griffith when they first met?

i'm not seeing that much of a difference in their build or their height here. granted the angle is sort of finicky and neither of them are standing straight up on an even, equal surface but still, they look roughly similar give or take

then contrast that with the final years of the golden age

guts is very obviously significantly taller and significantly broader than griffith. and it makes sense, since they were teenagers when they met and they're adults now, even though only ~three years have passed; growth can keep happening into people's twenties.

so. what i'm saying is, these two spent phases of their puberty together. griffith probably witnessed firsthand guts' transformation into the beefcake he is in adulthood. he definitely glanced at him and got hot under the collar sometimes

guts definitely also glanced at griffith and got hot under the collar too. it's just not fair that someone can continue to get more beautiful by the day

#a totally important serious and critical topic if you ask me #now i want to write a fic. just best friends being best friends obviously. 'you've grown so much since we first met.' platonic behavior #griffguts #guts x griffith #griffith #griffith berserk #berserk griffith #guts #guts berserk #berserk guts #kentaro miura #berserk tag #berserk #berserk rambling #i ramble

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pfpanimes · 11 months

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⌕ berserk · guts.

⌕ gif/edit by: @6ore on pinterest.

like or reblog if you save/use.

#berserk #berserk icons #berserk layouts #berserk guts #guts #guts icons #guts berserk #guts x reader #guts x casca #guts x you #anime layouts #anime icons #manga icons #animes layouts #twitter layouts #manga layouts #anime packs #anime icon

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gamblersdoll · 14 days

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Well based on what you said about Guts, if he is a real person

I think I have an idea!

What about if the reader disturbs Guts while he is practicing his punching? The reader tries to seduce him and make him angry or something like that in order to get some attention from him..

tw: 18+, teasing, seducing.

“why the fuck would you try to bother me while im about to punch something!?” guts asked, not necessarily yelling but his tone was raised.

“i just wanted to see if you were busy or busy busy..” you asked, holding your hands behind your back. guts knew you were on to something, up to no good like per usual.

“what is it that you want?”

“oh well nothing in particular..” you say shyly, biting the inside of your cheek and smiling. guts side eyed you for a minute, then going back to his punches.

you creep around guts, standing behind him and tracing your hands on his back. guts freezes, arms up and hes red in the ears.

“what are you doing?!” he whisper yells, feeling his cock threatening to harden.

“just helping you..” you say, snaking your hands to his chest and one hand on his happy trail. “missed you.. missed this..”

it clicks for guts, meaning that you needed him in every way possible.

“oh, that time huh?” he says, stifling a hiss from the pinch of his nipple. his cock hardens, feeling your tits press against his bare back and he groans from feeling your nipples harden.

“uh huh.. need you inside me guts..” you whisper in his ear, licking at the outline. your hand snakes under his briefs, cupping at his hardened cock, receiving a groan from him.

“fuck.. you little-“

“dont you want me, sir?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes up at him as he looks back at you, and seeing that you’ve obviously had no panties on underneath your (his) baggy shirt. you rub your thighs together, biting your lip.

he sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “go upstairs and get her ready for me.” he growled out, giving you a small spank when you both departed.

#berserk smut #guts berserk #berserk guts #berserk #guts x you #guts x reader #guts

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jean0farc · 6 months

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#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; ᴄᴏʀᴏɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ

(Cross-posted from my AO3)

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! Reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:

Having been spoiled by your father as an only child after your mother’s death, there existed you, a young, yet rebellious maiden known amongst Midland as Princess Scarlet. Being the subject of envy by commoners who wanted nothing more than to overthrow the kingdom, you were rather…..indifferent. As a princess, you exercised pride in your achievements, deeming you fit for the role of succeeding your father on the throne.

Even after your father’s death caused by poisoning, your dream to have your own kingdom never faltered in the slightest. In fact, ruling over Midland with an iron fist has been made easy and simple considering your royal blood.

Subsequently, your ambitious demeanor and philosophy attracted none other than the military genius who led a group of mercenaries known as the Band of The Hawk. Sir Griffith; a man who never fell short of what were to be defined as a noble, if it were not for his common blood.

To put it simply, Griffith never planned on building his empire overnight. Instead, he harbored ulterior motives where he would rather…..bend you, the Queen, to his liking before taking over Midland.

….And the consequences of YOU having a fragile ego never ceased to reveal itself.

𝖈𝖜: none as of now.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

No smut for the first chapter!

To minors: this space isn’t for you. Berserk is a warning in itself. Go away. Do not interact.

Anyways, I’m back with a new fic and it’s basically my own version while still keeping the canon verse of Berserk clear.

In this verse, expect certain things:

— Princess Charlotte does NOT exist.

— YOU are the Princess/Queen of Midland.

— The story will mainly focus on Griffith, not Guts.

Before commenting, I would like to caution you for potential rape/non-con elements (it’s Griffith we’re talking about here) to be depicted in later chapters of the story.

What I write is pure fantasy, and is mostly just me projecting on my original character (in this case, Queen Scarlet) who has a rather peculiar relationship with Griffith.

Anyways, grab some popcorn, and chill a little while we watch our original character slowly get taken advantage of by the devil himself.

The Kingdom of Midland. Such is a name given to the central region of the Physical World where nobles dominate and savages eliminate. One had the luxury of resting within the comfort of their own home while dining with only the finest cuisine made known to man. The other had to hustle and kill for the sake of money and survival…....while for potential evildoers and traitors, the sake of achieving their dream.

It was your coronation day after all, one of the most awaited events in all of Midland’s history. Following your father’s death caused by an incident of poisoning, the nobles immediately turn to you as a successor to the throne. You were a bit nervous, so to speak, but ready to accept your new role and give your speech as the newly appointed ruler of Midland.

It was already sunset, the halls decorated with red roses, bushes, and your favorite type of flower, the Amaryllis. You just loved the sight of red the way you liked your tea. Red, so to speak, was your favorite color. It just looks and feels powerful, like the way sunlight pierces its way through your eyes. You liked shoving your presence down people’s throats, to make them remember your name as you rejoiced in your own superiority as the new Queen.

Red was the visual embodiment of your dream—to rule and render yourself capable of building your own empire. Because of that, the King, your very own father, feared for your safety. And boy, was that prediction true.

Not only was your safety compromised, but prior to meeting the White Hawk who was addressed as Sir Griffith, things went downhill after that encounter as a sudden number of royal guards dropped dead. Not only were you disgusted by the smell of blood that filled the hallways the week before your coronation, but the five words whispered to your ear was what sent chills across your spine. Those five words made you shiver in questionable fear despite you taking it as just an empty threat.

“You belong to me, Princess.”

And then came the surge of mysterious events such as your father’s death.

Supposedly, you were expected to be excited for such an event like the coronation ceremony as you longed all your life to become Queen, but something about the whole situation didn’t feel right. You were at a loss for words, being unable to understand why your father was poisoned in an instant and how planning the ceremony felt rushed.

You shivered at the thought of meeting the Band of the Hawk once more, immediately suspecting that one of them killed your father.

“Our beloved guests, our crowning guests, respected parents of the nobles, and that of the civilians. Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.” announced the event speaker of the ceremony. “Once again, we have gathered here to witness the coronation ceremony of the Royal Family to be headed by Queen Scarlet and the rest of the officials appointed to serve her Majesty. Kindly rise for the ceremony proper.”

A huge audience of youngsters stood to give thanks towards your family for a job well done in leadership, singing songs of praise as time passed by. You were, of course, getting quite the goosebumps knowing your time is up as a princess. However, you can’t help but falter, thinking of your father’s untimely demise just about two weeks ago.

You were lost in thought, unable to pay attention to the songs sung in honor of you. Something was very wrong. You sweat and panted hard, not because you didn’t know what to say or do given the situation, but because you didn’t want to actually meet up with Griffith and the rest of his comrades due to some suspicions about the leader’s motives.

“Before we start, may I request everyone to observe silence as the ceremony begins to maintain its solemnity. Reserve your ‘hoorays’ for the latter part of the coronation. Thank you very much for your full cooperation.”

The rest of the coronation ceremony followed. You were nervous, biting your nails as you slowly prepared your speech in front of thousands. You knew Griffith would be watching

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Alas, it was your turn to give out a speech that serves as a public declaration of your aims, intentions, and actions to be taken to further improve the economic and sociocultural growth of Midland.

Standing up, you could feel the eyes of crowds searching you from head to toe, but none of them ever gave you the impression that someone was truly watching you.

At the exterior of the venue, there sneaked a young man with white, flowing hair and a pair of blue eyes. It was him. Griffith. He didn’t make his own presence clear before you, he covered his tracks very well. But, little did he know, you could peek at his silhouette from afar. Knowing he made his way past the guards with extreme caution showed his prowess in strategy and disarming opponents with great ease.

Yes, he just wanted to hear your speech. After all, knowing how someone would open up about a fraction of their lives would be crucial in undergoing one’s plan to achieving their dreams, yes?

This was your moment. You let out a deep breath and spoke clearly as you cleared your throat.

“Greetings, my beloved fellowmen. It’s been a pleasure having to meet with you all to this very moment.” you greeted the audience with a friendly, approachable tone. “Throughout this memorable day, I was able to discern all your prayers dedicated to me and my family, especially in honor of my father’s passing. As an inherent successor to the throne, I have maintained a significant awareness through the years that my people, spread far and wide throughout every continent and ocean in the world, were united to support me in the task to which I have now been dedicated with such solemnity.”

The muffled voice of your speech was rendered audible to Griffith from the outskirts of the palace. He was perhaps….fascinated by your rather….pushy attitude on things. It didn’t take long before he palmed the area between his hips, hiding such an unsightly appearance as he began to fantasize about you under his control. He wanted nothing more than to dissect you in every detail possible, to know your deepest fears and motives of having to rule such a flawed kingdom. But little did you know, was that he wanted this kingdom all to himself.

“The ceremonies you have seen today are ancient, but some of their origins are hidden in the mists of the past. Their spirit and meaning still rise from the flames of finiteness. Perhaps, they still shine more brightly than we’ve expected them to do so. I have pledged allegiance with all my heart that I shall lead this kingdom, uplifting it further to claiming a thousand more victories than you would ever anticipate. Throughout all my life and with all my heart I shall strive to be worthy of your trust.”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed as he hid behind the doors alongside the two guards who were apparently slain before they could even fight back.

He wanted you.

And there was nothing more satisfying than breaking one of the strongest, most powerful women who once took an interest in the art of swordsmanship. But he would rather not challenge you to a duel; not because he underestimated your capabilities, but because he saw such barbaric acts to be unbefitting of a lady with high status.

An hour later, trumpets played as the Grim Reapers of the Battlefield were to be promoted as bodyguards, yes, bodyguards, of your kingdom. The King trusted you to this group of mercenaries who promised nothing short of protecting your integrity and wellbeing as the princess. But one thing’s for sure, it’s that their leader was bound to be missing.

You stepped down from the stage to observe your audience for any problems which may arise from the White Hawk’s absence.

“Wait, where’s Griffith? But he was just here about minutes ago!” Rickert exclaimed. “He can’t just be wandering out in the open like this! Griffith! Hang in there! We’re on our way!”

“Cut the crap.” Guts said, alerting his fellow comrades. “There must be a way to proceed with the ceremony without Griffith being of any concern.”

“But Guts-”

Recognizing and appreciating your bodyguards (or perhaps, some new friends) wasn’t all that bad. Perhaps you were intimidated by some of the mercenaries, but they played an integral part of your big day.

It was only one moment within that band that spooked you, it was the White Hawk revealing himself—it was Griffith. By that moment when Griffith claimed you to be his, you began to not take those words lightly and managed to develop a slight sense of fear. What did he exactly mean by that?

You brushed off your thoughts on the matter and shook hands with nearly all the members, with Griffith being an exception (obviously). Rumor has it that he’s still hiding where the sun doesn’t shine, covering his tracks in order to reveal himself before you in the very end.

And God forbid what kind of plans he had for you that night.

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