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#griffith x reader
dollwrites · 6 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 ]
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“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.”
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pfpanimes · 3 months
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⌕ berserk - griffith.
like or reblog if you save/use.
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jean0farc · 5 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :
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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.
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“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.
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alternatimsnowfall · 8 days
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I'm morbidly curious as to how this will play out
When you pick a character from the provided list. Say how the date went between you two and how it ended.
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tenflyingsun · 2 months
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just being soft to (pre eclipse) Griffith and treating him tenderly
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♡ thinking about brushing griffith's hair back away from his forehead to place a chaste kiss along his temple
♡ thinking about interlacing his fingers with your own and bringing his hand up to your face to leave a soft kiss on each knuckle.
♡ thinking about helping him dry off his luscious hair with a towel and kissing the top of his head when you’re done.
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Saw you rebloged some Berserk content, this isn't a request but I just wanted to ask, who do you think would eat pussy better out of the main trio (Guts, Casca and Griffith)
Oh yeah I'm not into dark content much (not like it is in Berserk with lots of... well you know, not good things happening) but I have read the manga and I'm 100% a Guts and Casca enjoyer more then Griffith. If you want Griffith you can go over to my girl @dollwrites, there's some Griffith stuff there.
But to answer your question, I think all of them would be good but for different reasons.
Guts because he wants to know you're enjoying yourself and he loves how you moan when he has his tongue pressing against you, or how you try to pull him closer but can't because he simply won't let you just take your pleasure, he wants to make it last for you as long as possible. And he can get pussydrunk real easily too.
Casca because like Guts she wants to make you feel good but she's also a lot more on the "I want you to taste yourself on my lips" kind of person where she will go from your pussy, across your body to your mouth and kiss you when she's done to listen to your adorable noises and hums. Also she's very invested in aftercare but sometimes she can just as easily end up between your legs all over again.
Griffith because for him its about seeing how good you feel when he doesn't even have to use his cock on you. His tongue is more then enough to make you see stars and beg for more, which for him is proof of his control over you and your pleasure. Every time he pulls away you're pushing him back, one orgasm after the next and its still not enough because he's made you addicted to his mouth and tongue.
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imvriix · 2 years
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l𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨!
summary ;; — the trio in the golden age arc being completely smitten with someone who is aware, yet ignores it by acting dense.
featuring + contains ;; — griffith, casca, guts x gn! oblivious! reader [ seperate ], set in the golden age arc, reader being a bit stupid, hinted corruption kink in griffiths.
devilman crybaby version
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⋆*・゚:     :✧*⋆   ・゚
— guts
bro is mad
he just doesn't understand. has he not been obvious enough? why does he have to do everything around here? he can't decide on whether he fell in love with an idiot or if your taking the absolute piss for the hell of it.
it was hard enough admitting he had fallen for someone to himself, so why did you have to make it even harder for him? he was torn between giving you a peice of his mind or just getting it over with.
it isnt like you didn't notice his attempts either, you threw in indirect teasing here and there, yourself. but you were so sneaky about it that it made him mad as well as flustered and embarrassed.
if its your ego thats forcing you to make up excuses about his behaviour, the two of you will be dead before your feelings are put across.
we all know about guts's ego, especially in the golden age arc, so even if he subconsciously admitted it to himself, there was no way in hell he would actually voice his affections.
it'd likely be brought up by someone else, the two of you being forced to actually do something about this mess of a crush you both had on the other. yet you still feign innocence, it isn't until guts accidentally lets his feelings slip that you both begin to move forward in your relationship.
the two of you sat with everyone, drinking and toasting to one another happily. you drank your booze in slow sips, putting your glass down every so often and engaging in conversation.
guts sat next to you, not drinking nor talking. merely staring. at you, in particular. you felt his gaze on you, yet you ignored it all the same, the feeling of him knowing that you were aware of how much of a sticky situation he was in with his feelings making him incredibly annoyed.
but when you laughed at something someone had said, covering your mouth as your laughter was gentle and melodious, full of gentleness and never mockery, his annoyance disappeared.
he was never able to stay mad at you, no matter how hard he tried.
this " small " crush of his got in the way of his swordsman ship too, thoughts of you flooding into his mind whenever he would wield his sword. images of your smiling face and pure joy took over his thoughts, making him lose balance whilst daydreaming more than once. it normally ended with him sulking up against a tree.
he sighed and took your cup, sipping from the same place you had placed your lips. he averted his gaze from you, now blankly staring forward as he fought of a light blush from his own actions.
you noticed this and blinked, " would you like a drink? i can get you one, if you like. " you smile at him as he internally groans.
anymore of this and he doubts his capability of keeping his sanity.
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— casca
it did put her in a frustrated mood whenever you so cleverly avoided her extremely obvious, and almost pitiful, attempts at making a move on you.
she would often go pout in a corner, and if anyone besides you interrupted her pouting time after her plans failed, she would snap.
if it was you, that was another story.
her mood would be lifted, even though it had been your density that put her in that state in the first place.
from helping you with errands, giving lingering touches, being protective, noticeably nicer and softer towards you nothing seemed to tell you that she was so deeply in love with you.
it was more like obsession at this point, but let's not get into that.
you would always make up excuses on her behalf, " shes only trying to be helpful ", " its her way of being a good captain, of course she'll be kind to one of those she leads ", " she must truly see me as her family for her to be fond of me enough to be with me when she can " my fucking ass. you loved her and she loved you, but you subconsciously worried about her simply being friendly so you forced yourself to see it as such when it was so much for different.
what made it even harder for her to blame you was how you always smiled at her, eyes always filled with warmth and innocence that she so desperately wanted to protect.
so, instead she sulked about how your enchanting nature had her in a chokehold.
but maybe she wasn't being forward enough, she wondered.
you sat up against the trunk of an oak tree, the calm wind combing through your hair and the soft sunshine reflecting on your face. you were so tired, running errands here and there all day. yes, it may have been your fault for being unable to say ' no ' to people asking you for favours due to your caring nature, although it tired you out.
casca worried for your kindness.
she saw you up against the tree as she snuck a glance at you, lightly gulping down her nervousness. she wondered if the reason she was unable to win you over was that you were too angelic for someone like her, too polite and sweet.
she walked towards you as she sat down, you opening your eyes to look up at her as she asks, " tired? " you nod in response, letting your head nod off in exhaustion, " I've been asked to do favours all day. not sure i can take anymore running around. " you joke as she takes your exhaustion dead seriously, her lips forming a thin line.
" you're too sweet, " she blurts out, pinching your cheek as you take it as a friendly gesture, " if anyone bothers you too much by putting their own lot of work on you, tell me. ill sort them out for you. " she promises as you giggle at her protective reaction, " no, its alright. i like helping out where i can. " you smile, and she almost forgets her troubles completely, and she would have too if it weren't for your tired eyes.
you sighed and averted your gaze forward, slowly closing your eyes as she stared at the sky.
it wasnt until she felt the weight of your head on her shoulder that she looked back at you.
smiling, she lifted one of your hands to her lips as she kissed your knuckles, finding a new confidence within herself to know that you let your guard down enough to fall asleep when you were with her.
maybe things weren't all so bad, it was cute seeing you make up excuses to yourself anyways.
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— griffith
he found it cute.
griffith is known for being straight forward without the need for words, his actions doing the talking for him, but with you, it wasn't so simple.
it wasnt because of anything cliché, you didnt think he was too good or that you didnt deserve his affections and all that sappy stuff, it was just that you weren't sure how to react.
sure, you liked griffith, but you preferred to keep your feelings to yourself.
you were a private person, even if you were sweet and teasing at times, so you flat out ignored all advances griffith made towards you.
he didn't make them obvious, but they were noticeable enough for you to realise.
and you indirectly shut him down every time.
it honestly shocked him a great deal, why wouldn't you want him to love you and give you his affection? it didn't make sense.
but it charmed him even more, making his newfound admiration something far bigger than a simple crush.
you were sharp and pure, his realisation of you having no fear yet no malice towards him had him wrapped around your finger. it was basically an addiction. a very unhealthy one that you were subconsciously aware of, but ignored.
he wanted to test his fun, to see what you were able to ignore and smoothly shut down without others noticing and what would make you flush.
he found that nothing did the latter.
but we all know he isn't one to give up so easily.
he was so determined to win your affections the way you had won his,
you sat behind him, your hands weaving through his curly hair as you fiddled with the soft strands. you hummed a light tune as the fresh and scented flowers the two of you sat in the middle of swayed around your legs, vibrant blossoms as far as your eyes could see.
griffith had his eyes closed as he listened to your calming hum, leaning back on his palms as he enjoyed the feeling of your dainty fingers on his scalp.
as the gust of wind hit the two of you, you remove your hands from his hair as he slightly pouts at the loss of contact. he suddenly leans back onto you, the side of your heads pressed against eachothers as he lays his weight on you.
you dont react at this, letting him use you as a pillow with nothing to break the silence, until he feels the need to hear your voice, " y/n. "
" griffith. "
" have i told you of my end goal? " he asks, side eyeing you as you shrug, " you've told me of it briefly before, is it to have your own kingdom? " you questioned as he nods, " and when i do, will you rule alongside me? " he stares at you as you stare back, your eyes innocent and round.
he wasn't sure if he wanted to corrupt you or if he wanted to protect your purity.
" i do not care for ruling a kingdom, but if it's support you seek, i will be of as much use as i can. " you smile warmly as he carries on staring at you. most would have been unsettled by his blank gaze, yet you welcomed him in his every aspect, you didn't shy away and you didn't fear him, but you didn't hate him for a pitiful reason, either.
" you being on my side is more than enough support, it's more than id even ask for. "
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boldlygloriousqueen · 8 months
Text
Three Connected Souls -
Part 1: Two Souls
Griffith x Oc x Guts
Just a quick warning! This series will have smut, sexual @ssault and the alluding of it, cursing, toxic/controlling behaviors, obsessions/possessiveness, non-con, blood, and violence.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warning for this chapter: SLIGHT VIOLENCE
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"Little princess, where have you gone? Princess Daphne! Why must you make everything so difficult for me?!"
A lady with black hair ran through the halls in search of the young girl who watched the lady from above the second floor. The woman seemed close to yanking out all her hair out of frustration with the child she lost. The missing young girl had light brown hair that was braided up and soft hazel eyes that followed the women as she searched the halls. The girl remained silent and bent down to hide her small figure from the woman while her hands gripped the poles of the balcony.
Once the woman was out of her eyesight, she stood up and walked towards the stairs. She slipped off her heels that looked rather plain. As a matter of fact, so was her dress. It was mainly white and yellow and had no special patterns or a single jewel rested upon it. She might have been able to pass as a maid. Daphne was never one to wear expensive dresses as in her mind there were "better ways for money to be spent" given the midlands' current state. Most ten year old princesses and nobles didn't have the same mindset as Daphne, which would explain why her father spoils her rotten in any way he could.
The princess ran down the steps, pattering her feet on the cold material with a stern face. She was upsets, very upset nonetheless. One thing Daphne hated most in the world was when promises were broken. While running through the halls, she held her dress slightly up to allow more movement for her small legs. Her hazel eyes were set on a large door engraved with golden designs. There, her father, the king, and his loyal commanders often discussed war and political issues. These were most important for the survival of Mindland, but Daphne did not care. She was a child, after all, and her mind was set on bursting into the doors demanding for her father to take her to the festival the towns people had every year on the same day. It was clear that Daphne could be mature at times, but she still acted like a child on other occasions.
This festival wasn't just any kind of festival, not to the princess. It was a festival that was meant to ask for the King and Midland to be blessed with good fortune during these hard times. People sell all kinds of sweets, dress in costumes, dance, and sing, but the princess's favorite time of the festival was when they lit the fireworks. Sure, she could watch that from the balcony of her room, but it was more fun to watch in person and see the common people smile. She could see that the festival was a few times people seemed to forget about the death and fighting outside the walls. It also helped her to forget.
Before the princess had the chance to create further rumors about her unladylike manners, a young boy emerged from the room. He had long white hair and blue eyes and was dressed like a nobel's son, though he was far from it. Rather, a playmate for the young princess who made a first good impression in front of the King when he was found roaming around in the courtyard. No one knew how he got in, but he did. He was described to look quite rugged, and he was skin and bones. He managed to avoid alerting any guards that interested the King. The man always enjoyed being surprised by people who proved to be of some use and so this young boy that came from the war room, was a boy full of undoutable potential, but potential isn't always enough to reach your dreams, your desires so at what cost would someone like this chose to pay?
"Griffith!" Daphne waved one of her hands up to catch his attention.
Daphne was fond of Griffith without a doubt. He never spoke behind her back like other children and adults did. He was someone who made her feel safe, and she felt that he was the only one in this castle she could share her secrets with. Of course, she was a girl so it was safe to say she had a bit of a crush on him as most young girls did when they met him, but in the eyes of adults the princess was merely happy to have someone to play with. The boy's eyes pierced the princess, but without any malicious intent. He always had that look in his eyes, like he was always chasing after something he couldn't quite reach. The smile that came after suited his face, Daphne felt the room brighten with his presence and brought a soft red hue to her cheeks as he closed the door softly, behind him.
"Princess Daphne, what brings you here?"
"A-ah, is my father inside?" Griffith's smile widened at her shyness. Griffith knew of the princess's feelings towards him. If he had to, he'd use those feelings for his own use. They belonged to him in his eyes to begin with.
"I'm afraid he is busy, princess. I do hope you do not plan to create a big ruckus. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," Griffth walked closer to Daphne, who was pouting her lips.
"Father promised we'd attend the festival like we always do."
"I don't think that will be possible this year, princess. Your father won't be finished anytime soon." Griffith's eyes traveled down to Daphne's feet to see her barefoot were missing then to the heels in her hand.
"Princess, why aren't you wearing your heels. The floor is cold. What if you were to get sick." Griffith bent down onto one of his knees and held his hand up for Daphne to hand him one of her shoes. She furrowed her brow and hid the shoes behind her back.
"Griffith, are you my friend?" The boy stared at her slightly confused.
"Yes, of course, princess."
"Then, from now on, stop calling me princess. It just Daphne."
"But-"
"And stop acting like you're some servant. You shouldn't do this for anyone, not even me. I can take care of myself," the girl sat the two shoes down, then slipped her feet in one by one while holding her dress up for a better view. She held her hands on her hips and held her head slightly up.
"See, this is nothing."
Griffith chuckled while he stood back up. Daphne felt her cheeks burn up worse than it did before. With him being so close to her, she never noticed the slight difference in their height.
"You're right, my mistake. From now on, I won't coddle you as mush. I'm sure you already deal with that enough from everyone, but if there is anything you ever need from me, I'll always be there for you, Daphne."
Things like this were the reason Daphne was so close to Griffith. She couldn't see a life without him. Anyone else would have told the princess they couldn't do what Griffith because of the difference in their 'class'. A large smile grew on Daphne's face, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Griffith patted the innocent young girl's hair and rested his head a top of hers. He fond himself getting more use to the girl. He promised the moment he met her that she would br nothing more than a pawn for his dream and while that steal might the case, he was getting attached to the girl to the point he'd do anything to keep her at his side. He never met someone so unselfish, unlike himself. Her uncle would have been furious at the sight. He never liked Griffith. He always saw him as another one of his problems to deal with.
"Princess!"
The young children could hear someone yelling from the distance. Griffith took the princess's hand, and they both shared a thought together, and without saying a single word, they ran out to the garden.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
"It's so pretty, Griffith." Daphne admired the wooden bracelet that was delicately carved and carefully tied around her wrist. Daphne and Griffith wore hoods as they walked the streets.
"It doesn't compare to your jewelry collection, but I'm glad you enjoy it." His fingers grazed her cheeks softly, having the same smile he always had when looking at her.
"I'm glad you carry that with you. It suits you," Daphne pointed to the sword hidden in the scabbard on his hip.
"Does it not scare you?"
"Why would it when your the one who's wearing it? The only people who should worry about you with that sword are the evil people in this world. Besides, you've been training a lot lately. I'm sure your an expert and... soon you could... possibly teach me to use one some day."
"I could have sworn your father said no," he spoke with an amused smile knowing Daphne's intent with the subject.
"My father is an overprotective old man who doesn't understand that I'm growing up. You never know when I'll need to use one, and it's better to be safe than sorry," the princess continued, "I should know how to protect myself. What if you are not around? Would you really trust my life with just anyone?" Griffith spoke his head, the same smile remaining.
"I suppose I wouldn't."
-Boom-
The two swiftly moved their heads to the direction of the noise, and there they saw the beautiful fireworks that lit the sky. Along came from cheers and praise from the townsfolk. Daphne found it fascinating that someone found a way to light the sky with festive colors. It seemed like something that would take up a lot of time to create, but she could never grew tired of watching them. She grabbed a hold of Griffith's arm and rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes on the fireworks.
"Do you remember what you told me when we first met? About you having a dream?"
"I do," Griffith responded as his eyes went from the fireworks to the castle in the distance.
"What is your dream?"
"What I want...." he paused for a long second before breathing out a soft sigh. "That's a secret, little princess."
"Ha? Friends are supposed to share secrets with each other. You know all of mine."
"Mm, I'll tell you one day when the time is right, so don't pout."
"You promise to tell me?" Her eyes stared up at him wanting reassurance.
"I promise. Just be patient. Haven't you heard that patience is-"
"Key? Yeah, yeah. I've heard this all before. You're starting to sound like my father now. I think it was time for you to stop joining them in that war room. You might end up becoming like him,"
"I'd could never. I fear you might grow tired of me," he gently poked her nose. Happiness smeared all over her face from his touch.
"And what about you, Daphne? What are your dreams?" He asked curiously.
"....I want to help the people of Midland in any way I can, but as of now, I can not do that as I know too little," Griffith flinched slightly at her words. Most girls her age would speak of marriage, having a family, or keeping family content. Yet the princess is more concerned for others rather than herself.
"I will become Queen no matter what. I will learn until my brain hurts, I'll even be willing to ride into battle so everyone knows how serious I am. People are always worried about the next time their families eat or what war will take their children away from them," The princess pulled away from Griffith and held a fist to her heart. "When I become Queen, it will be the last thing they have to worry about."
Griffith held his head down as he stared at the ground with wide eyes. This was something he truly didn't expect her to hear. He knew the kind heart she held, but he didn't think she had that much kindness. In a way... she was reminding him of himself. The princess didn't stop there. She continued to talk further about her dreams, but the more she talked, the more Griffith zoned out into his own thoughts. How could he ever let someone like her go? She was exactly like him, no... maybe even better... different? The mere thought of it brought a devilish smile to his face that was covered by his long hair.
"You are truly delightful, Daphne,"
The princess turned towards Griffith who was mumbling. "What was that-" before she could finish her question she felt a strong force push her down.
"Hey, can't you see!" Daphne yelled at the perpetrator who had a scrunched up face. He was a young boy who had short hair that stuck up. His hair almost reminded her of a raven. He had a noticeable scar on his nose and he seemed to have the look of someone who knew not a single bit of happiness. Oddly, he held a sword on his back that seemed way too big for someone his size and height.
"Daphne! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Griffith touched the young girl's face as he scanned her body. "You should be aware of your surroundings. You could have easily hurt her." Griffith stared up at the rough looking boy who seemed to care less as he searched his surroundings.
"Maybe next time she shouldn't be in the way," he spoke coldly before running through the crowd. Daphne was stunned to see the boy run off without even apologizing and she couldn't stand how rude he was towards them.
"I'm going to kill that jerk!" Daphne stood onto her feet and began her chase as Griffith started his after to princess.
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kimsle · 9 months
Text
Imagine being married to Griffith😭
It would be a LITERAL guessing game 
But don’t get me wrong I do love me some Griffith x you Contant and I’m not gonna lie.. it be making me blush a little bit. But still you cannot tell me that if he actually showed you the time of day, got married to you🫵 that you wouldn’t be questioning why he’s suddenly…I don’t know like adamant or is OK with marrying you in the first place because usually he has ulterior motives😭
You are going to be questioning if he actually likes you or if he’s just literally playing you/using you as a steppingstone of sorts 
Like literally, how would you even tell? he’s so good at acting that you probably wouldn’t even know what’s real from fake
And this is all considering, if you have some steppingstone potential 😭
But um anyway…
I believe in Griffith supremacy!!!!😡
He is a kind and gentle soul, and he can do nothing wrong in this world!!!!🤬
Make more Griffith X you Contant!!!🤬
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marblemoovt · 1 year
Text
Love Triangle - Griffith/Reader/Guts
Masterlist
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 11.4k
Warnings: Graphic depictions of Violence. Attempted Rape/Non-Con. Fluff. Angst (Happy ending)
Summary:
The events of Berserk up until just after the eclipse with the reader. (I honestly cannot summarize this well enough, but just give it a shot)
------
“But what about Griffith? Casca? The men in your unit?”
Guts smiles and shrugs. “They’ll be fine without me.”
You stare at the ground and fidget with your fingers. “What about me?” you ask in a quiet voice. When you dare to look up, he looks conflicted, And for a second, you actually think he’ll stay.
“…Come with me then,” he suggests.
You blink owlishly at him. “Sorry?”
“Come with me. We can travel together and look for our own dreams.” He looks so earnest that it hurts to turn down his offer.
“Guts, you know I can’t leave.” You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. The thought of leaving Griffith is too much to bear.
Guts furrows his brows. “We both know that’s bullshit. It’s only a matter of if you want to.”
Note:
This is an ask.
This took me a while to write because I kept getting ideas. Honestly, I'm tempted to rewrite this one day as a series instead of a oneshot, just because this version feels too condensed for what I wanted to convey. I initially thought that this wouldn't be that long, and then I ended up around 11k words, so oops. My brain is very kaputt, so there's not much else I have to say right now. I did have fun writing this though, I found it interesting.
Happy reading! (。・∀・)ノ゙
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
“Good job, darling,” Griffith praises, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. You glance over at him with a smile. 
You sheathe your sword and wipe away the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thank you. There’s still a maneuver I struggle with,” you say. You worked on it all week, but your one swing doesn’t have as much control as you would like. 
“Perhaps I can help?” Griffith offers, and you nod gratefully. You demonstrate the move and huff in frustration when you miss your mark on the training dummy. “I see the problem.” Griffith comes up behind you and adjusts your stance. His breath tickles your ear. “You need to tilt your wrist at more of an angle.” His soft hands encompass your wrist—how can he have such delicate hands for a swordsman?? “Like this.” Griffith chuckles in bemusement, and you could have sworn the jet of air against the nape of your neck was intentional. “Try now.”
You tighten your grip on the sword and swing your arm, gasping when you cut the dummy clean across its torso. “Thank you, Sir,” you say, eyes still lingering on the deep gash you made.
“I merely guided you, dear. Take more credit for your talents,” Griffith says. You nod mutely and glance over your shoulder, scrambling away from him when your nose almost brushes against his. He merely flashes his usual smile and walks away to talk to the other members. You’re too lost in your head that you don’t notice Guts approaching you.
“I see you finally managed to perfect your swing,” Guts says, tilting his head towards the dummy. You grin and bounce on the balls of your feet.
“Yeah! Griffith helped me. Wanna see it?” you ask. The stiffening of his jaw is too subtle for you to notice. You’re too caught up in your excitement and the adrenaline from being close to Griffith.
“Alright, show me what you got.” Guts crosses his arms and waits expectantly. You take a deep breath and resume your stance, angling your wrist like earlier. One swing later, the dummy has another gash across its chest. You turn to Guts, the grin on your face faltering when you take in his unimpressed expression. He hums and says, “while that was a good swing, it won’t work in battle unless your enemy is unarmoured. But every armour has its weak spots.” Guts pulls out his sword and decapitates the dummy in a single swipe. “Like the neck.”
Your lips pinch together, but you manage a weak smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You thank him for the advice and excuse yourself under the pretence of fetching a new dummy. Walking past the shed where the dummies are kept, you stop at the bench where you left your belongings. Taking a swig from your waterskin, you douse the remainder on your head to cool yourself off. You run a hand down your face, jumping out of your skin when Griffith appears in front of you. 
“I do apologize for Guts’s behaviour. He’s not very adept at matters of the heart,” Griffith says. His hair is bright underneath the sun, and you’re momentarily blinded by his beauty. 
“I-I don’t quite understand,” you say. Since when did training fall under the category of feelings?
Griffith’s lips turn up in a gentle curve, and he pats your head. “I’m sure he meant to praise you in his own roundabout way,” Griffith says, wiping a drop of water that was about to drip off your chin. You shudder from the contact and cannot control the colour of your face. He seems pleased by your reaction and adds, “you did wonderful, darling.”
“I-I did?” It takes all your brain cells to say those two words. You can only stare like a startled deer. His touch still lingers on your chin, the rough pad of his thumb caressing your skin. 
“Of course. Our enemies will never know what hit them. The Grim Reapers of the Battlefield and you, my Scythe.” The grin on his face is soft, but you can’t shake off the predatorial feeling. He’s never called you that before. A title makes you feel important; it gives you a purpose. You understand that Griffith has a dream, an ambitious one at that. Maybe this is his way of keeping you by his side. 
“I won’t let you down,” you say, straightening your back.
Griffith chuckles and says, “Of course, dear. You never fail to exceed my expectations.” And this time, the smile reaches his eyes. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you forget your feelings of uneasiness. He kisses your cheek, and it’s the most open he’s been with his affection for you. You don’t have a label for what you two are. You obviously like him more than a friend, and he seems to reciprocate those feelings. But you’re too afraid to ask what you mean to him. Because what if you’re deluding yourself into thinking he likes you back?
“What are we?” The words tumble from your lips before you realize they’re coming out. 
Griffith tilts his head to the side. “That’s quite a philosophical question,” he remarks.
You nibble on your bottom lip. “N-no. I meant us. What’s going on between us? You clearly know how I feel about you.” Your anxiety spikes when he doesn’t respond. “I can pretend nothing ever happened if that’s what you prefer,” you add.
“What do you want us to be?” Griffith asks.
You furrow your brows. “Does my opinion really matter?” He has the power in this conversation, not you. It doesn’t matter how much you love him. Your love does nothing unless he accepts it.
Griffith smiles, and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “I want to hear you say it,” he says. His eyes burn into you, and you feel so naked under his gaze. A part of you is thrilled by the attention. He must like you to some capacity if he can look at you with such intensity.
Emboldened by his stare, you say, “I want us to be lovers.”
He bows and kisses the back of your hand. “Then your wish is my command. Come by my tent tonight,” Griffith commands. Your shoulders tense, and a chill washes over you.
You lick your lips and hesitantly part them. “Griffith, when I said lovers, I didn’t solely mean sex.” You didn’t want to be used and thrown away. The lustful stares you’ve received from others are frightening. Enemies on the battlefield have sneered at you and made taunts about what they’ll do to you once they win. The nobles that Griffith deals with are not subtle at all in their advances. This is not to say that you are the most attractive person in the land—no, that title is taken by Griffith—but that humans can be awful and scummy creatures.
Griffith hums. “You desire to be my partner, do you not? There are many other activities to do during the evening. I apologize if my intentions came off as otherwise.” He makes it sound like it's your fault, but you apologize like the fool you are.
You quickly throw your hands up and sputter, “Oh, no! I’m sorry for assuming!”
Griffith strokes your arm, and a soft smile tugs his lips. You breathe out a sigh of relief; he forgives you. “Then I look forward to your company later,” he says, grinning in a cat-like manner.
You watch as Griffith walks away. In the corner of your vision, you notice Casca glaring at you. What’s her problem?
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
“You’ll freeze to death if you keep standing out there,” Guts says, observing your shivering form. You rub your hands together, hoping the friction will thaw the numbness gnawing into your bones.
“I was going to enter… eventually,” you say, pausing when you hear the gentle slosh of liquid. “What are—“
He holds out a mug and says, “It’s for you. Thought some cider would help you warm up.” This is probably the kindest thing Guts has ever done for you. You gratefully accept the drink and groan when your fingers wrap around the hot cup. Blowing on the surface of the cider, you take a small sip and feel the warm liquid flow down your throat and into your stomach. Warmth pools in your belly and the rest of your body heats up.
“I…. Thank you,” you whisper. You almost hope that Guts didn’t hear it because it was embarrassing, but the soft lines in his features say otherwise. You’re halfway through your cider, making small talk with Guts. He asks you about your hobbies and what you did before joining the band. You learn how he was picked up and raised by mercenaries. You vocalize your admiration for his tenacity. It requires tremendous strength to endure such hardships as a child and learn to grow from them. Guts is left speechless after your little ramble.
“Darling, there you are. Please, come inside. You’re shivering.” Griffith fusses over you. You actually feel quite warm now thanks to the cider from Guts. Griffith takes your hand and tugs you toward his tent. You smile and wave goodbye to Guts, thanking him for helping you warm up. He nods stoically and stands there, watching you disappear into the tent before stalking off toward the campfires.
“Griffith, your hand is squeezing too tight,” you say. A grimace forms on your face, and your hand throbs from the pressure. He doesn’t say anything but loosens his grip. You observe the inside of his tent. It’s modest since the camp is relocated often, but the tent is full of his scent. You’re too preoccupied to notice when he takes the unfinished drink from your hands and empties it into the dirt.
“Can I get you anything to drink, dear?” Griffith asks, already browsing through his wine collection. 
You shake your head. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t drink. My tolerance is weak.” You want to be completely sober tonight. Alcohol will only make you feel awful the next morning with little recollection of the previous night.
Griffith tuts, and there’s disappointment in his tone. “Come now. Let us celebrate our budding relationship. Don’t make me drink by myself,” he frowns. 
You bite your lip and mull over it, but you eventually shake your head. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to drink alcohol tonight.”
“Just one glass, please?” Griffith gives you a pleading look, and your resolve crumbles.
You sigh and relent. “I guess one glass wouldn’t hurt.”
Griffith grins and pours you a drink. You swirl the maroon liquid and inhale its sweet aroma. Taking tiny sips, you pace yourself. The wine is nice and most likely very expensive. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth at the revelation that it was probably a gift from a noble. You always thought something was off about the way they treated Griffith.
You set down your half-finished wine and lick the remaining sweetness from your lips. You catch Griffith's gaze, and he’s staring at you intently. Heat floods your body. Whether from embarrassment or alcohol, you’re not sure. He stands up and towers over you. You look up and lose yourself in his blue eyes.
“A toast to us,” he says, holding his drink out. A slight frown forms on your lips, but you pick up your wine and clink your glasses together. After another sip, a familiar fuzziness blankets your mind. You hum and curl up in your seat. The room begins shifting and morphing in your vision. 
“I think I’ve had a bit too much.” You try hard not to slur your words.
Griffith lifts your cup to your lips and says, “You’re almost done. Let’s not waste such fine wine.”
You pout. “Can’t you drink the rest for me?”
“Are you sure you don’t want the rest? It’s only a few sips.”
You shake your head. “Don’t want anymore. Head’s fuzzy now.”
“Alright, darling.” He takes your glass from you and finishes your drink.
You rub your eyes and blink to clear your vision. “Can you hold me?” you request, holding your arms out like a small child. 
“I would love to. Come here, darling.” Griffith picks you up and walks over to his cot. It’s a tight fit, but there’s enough room for two. He cradles you to his chest, and you soak in his warmth. His hair tickles your face, and you brush the fair locks away with a giggle. 
You look up at Griffith to see him smiling fondly down at you. “This is nice,” you say, playing with a strand of his hair. 
“Yes, it is.” His breath fans across your face, and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. You giggle from how it tickles, your skin tingling with electric sparks. His lips hover in front of yours, and he looks at you for permission. 
“Please kiss me,” you whisper. His sharp inhale eases some of your anxiety. He wants this as much as you do. You wait with bated breath. Should you be the one to close the gap? 
His lips make contact with yours before you can mull over the idea much longer. He tastes sweet like the wine from earlier. His fingers thread your hair, and he kisses you like a starved man. He devours you, nipping softly at your bottom lip. You groan, and he slips his tongue inside to explore your mouth. The sensation is foreign but not unpleasant. In fact, a shiver runs down your spine when he licks your gums and teeth. 
An idea pops into your head, and you suckle on his tongue, resulting in your scalp stinging. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Griffith groans. You pant and catch your breath, beaming a smile at him. He shifts so that you’re underneath him now. His arms form a cage around your body. He peppers kisses along your jawline before trailing down your neck. Your skin burns every time his lips make contact. You moan his name softly, and he slips a hand beneath your shirt. 
You tense up and shove him back. “Wait! I’m sorry. I’m not—I’m not ready for that,” you stammer. You’re afraid to be another conquest. Everything feels like it’s moving too fast. You bite your lip and blink furiously. Griffith looks at you with wide eyes, taken aback by the sudden stop.
He coos and caresses your cheek when your eyes glisten with tears. “That’s alright. Sleeping with you in my arms is enough. I would never force you into something so intimate without your consent.”
“Promise?” You stare into his blue eyes, and they crinkle at the corners. He kisses your forehead.
“I swear on it,” he promises. And you believe him.
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
Almost a year has passed since that night in Griffith’s tent. While you’ve given and received pleasure, you still haven’t gone all the way. That’s not to say you’re a prude, but you still worry about how penetrative sex will change your dynamic with Griffith. Yes, you love him. And yes, he loves you too. But will his feelings change once you allow him to see your most vulnerable parts? Will he decide that you no longer deserve a place in his dream? Being discarded is one of your worst fears.
The band mostly comprises of men, and some of their views are… crude, to put it lightly. Honestly, how they can lust after people like they’re mere objects leaves an uneasy ache in your stomach. The love you see in this world is not always idyllic; it rarely is. So you developed a fear of getting too close to people. Because deeper connections lead to stronger heartbreak when they inevitably betray your trust. But then came Griffith, and you knew you were helpless.
Despite this, Griffith has never complained. He never pushes you further than you’re willing to go, and he always leaves you thoroughly satisfied. He seems content with the way things are. Every night spent in his arms leaves you feeling safe and loved.
You always supported Griffith’s dream. So when he was granted a noble title, you were ecstatic for him. He’s one step closer to achieving his goal. But then he stopped coming home at night. He started disappearing for days without leaving an explanation for his whereabouts. You don’t want to embarrass him by frantically searching the castle grounds, so you spend many nights waiting for him in your shared room until you pass out in an armchair or in bed. The others don’t say anything, but you can feel their pitiful gazes when they think you’re not looking.
These days you tend to avoid everyone, and they give you your space. But it seems like the only one who won’t leave you alone is Guts. Whenever you’re wallowing in the corner of a tavern or wandering aimlessly through the streets, he always finds you. At first, you ignored him, but his company wasn’t unwelcome. There isn’t the desire to impress or strive for perfection that comes with Griffith. With Guts, you’re allowed to just exist. He doesn’t expect anything from you, and that’s very liberating.
Today is one of your wandering days. Griffith didn’t come back last night. Again. The weather is growing colder, so you bundle yourself up before heading outside. You snag one of Griffith’s scarves and blink back tears when his scent encompasses you. The wind whips through your hair, but you only tighten the scarf around your neck and trudge forward. You avoid the square, not wanting to be surrounded by people. You decide to walk towards the gardens today. The collage of red, orange, and yellow might brighten your mood. Luckily, the gardens are empty. Everyone must be in the marketplace preparing for winter or warming up in the shops.
You find a bench near a tall oak tree. Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the wind sends a couple dancing through the air. You take a seat and wrap your jacket tighter around your body. Your fingertips tingle, and you scold yourself for forgetting to bring gloves. Although your mind has been drifting lately.
“Mind if I join ya?” You turn in the direction of the voice and see Guts. He’s holding two cups in his hands.
“You can if one of those is for me,” you reply, rubbing your hands together. He sits beside you and hands you the steaming drink. “Cider?” you ask, sniffing the cup. Instead of smelling apples, there’s a dark, rich scent. You’ve only smelled something similar on rare occasions. “Is this?”
“Chocolate. Hot chocolate. I know you don’t care much for ale, and I’m sure you’re sick of cider.” Guts shrugs and takes a sip. His pleased expression makes you curious. You always find chocolate bitter, and the sweeter options are ridiculously overpriced because of sugar. He watches with an amused smile as you inspect the drink in your hand. “It ain’t gonna bite.”
You stick your tongue out at him and bring the cup to your lips. You tilt it slowly to avoid burning yourself. The hot chocolate glides smoothly down your throat, and your tastebuds feel delighted. It’s not bitter, but it’s not overly sweet. The richness of the chocolate is tamed by the warm cream, and there’s just enough sugar to make it enjoyable. You make a happy noise and take another sip.
“Good?” Guts asks, and you nod your head enthusiastically. The hot chocolate is still too hot, so you use it as a hand warmer until you can drink it without scalding your tongue.
“What brings you here?” you ask. You don’t keep track of what everyone else does in their spare time, but Guts doesn’t seem like the type to spend it in the gardens.
“That little guy over there,” he answers, pointing a finger to the tree near the bench. You look and see nothing out of the ordinary and turn back to him with confusion.
“The tree?” You hope you’re wrong, although it would be hilarious if you weren’t.
“Shh, no. Look again,” he says. You shrug and look at the tree, scanning its long trunk and colourfully decorated branches. Something moves in the corner of your vision. You narrow it down to one of the lower-hanging branches. There’s a tail flickering from side to side??
Guts whistles, and a cat jumps down from the tree. Its orange fur camouflages it perfectly amongst the leaves. The cat struts over but pauses when it sees you. You freeze, not wanting to startle the creature.
“S’alright, boy. Nothin’ to worry about. Brought a friend with me today,” Guts speaks in a soft tone. You’re honestly surprised he can sound so gentle. The cat eyes you warily but pads forward and hops onto Guts’s lap. He scratches the cat's head before stroking down his back. A low purr rumbles along with the wind. You stare in awe at the scene in front of you. Guts grins when he notices your expression. 
You feel your lips curling up into a smile. “Does he have a name?” you ask, but Guts shakes his head. 
“He’s a stray. Didn’t wanna name him in case I got too attached,” he replies. You nod in understanding, glancing at the cat enviously. Guts chuckles and asks, “do ya wanna pet him?” 
“May I? What if he doesn’t like me?” You roll your bottom lip between your teeth, drumming your fingers against your cup.
“Just gotta move slowly. Let him sniff ya a bit,” he instructs. You shift the cup and stretch out a hand, hovering it in front of the cat. A puff of air hits your skin as a wet, pink nose sniffs you hesitantly. You hold your breath, gasping when the cat rubs its fluffy head into the palm of your hand. You take it as permission to pet him and scratch behind his ears. “Cute,” Guts mumbles.
You grin and look up at Guts. “He’s adorable. I wish we could keep him,” you say, entranced by the fuzzy creature. 
“Yeah. A battlefield ain’t a place for a cat.” There’s a dip in his tone. Your smile turns bitter, and you give the cat a scritch underneath his chin.
An idea pops into your head. “We could keep him in our rooms in the capital! I think we’ve left our camping days behind us.” Your suggestion sparks Guts’s interest, which spurs you on. “He can clearly take care of himself, so we can let him out every day and ask someone to feed him when we’re away!”
“That… doesn’t sound half-bad,” he remarks. 
You bounce in your seat and plant a kiss on the top of the cat’s head, which earns you a loud purr. “Did you hear that, little guy? You’re coming home with us!”
Guts smiles in amusement and says, “Your idea; you get to name him.” 
You shake your head and laugh. “Oh, no. I’m terrible at making decisions.”
“C’mon, I’m sure ya got somethin’ in mind.”
“Hmmm. Then what about Ember?” you suggest. Guts ponders for a moment, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Since his fur is orange, it reminds me of fire,” you add as if your explanation will improve your idea.
“I like it. He’s warm like fire, too,” Guts says.
You smile. “That’s perfect for me since I’m always cold.” The sky has melted into a soft pink as the sun begins to dip. You didn’t realize so much time had passed. “I’ll go buy some things before the shop closes.” You rise from your seat and give Ember one last pet. Impulsively, you pat Guts on the head. His posture stiffens, and you giggle at how taken aback he is.
“I’ll, uh, take Ember to his new home,” he says, rising up and rushing to the exit. You watch as he scrambles frantically, stifling a laugh when he smacks into a bush. Heading to the shops, you make a mental list of the items you need. You stop by the butcher to buy some chicken and other cuts of meat you think Ember will like. Next is the general store, where you buy some blankets and bowls. Armed with bags, you head home, eager to return to your new feline friend.
You enter the building and nod your head to greet everyone you passed, beelining straight to Guts’s room. You adjust the bags in your grip and knock on the door. “It’s me,” you say. There’s a soft thump followed by a loud meow. You smile to yourself and wait patiently, hearing some scuffling and more cat noises.
“Come in. Doors not locked,” Guts says. You enter and set the bags on the ground. Ember is immediately interested in what you’ve brought him. You take out the blankets and hand them to Guts. He walks away to find a spot to place them, so you grab the bowls next and fill one of them with water. When you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of Ember sitting contently in an empty bag.
“You are so damn cute,” you whisper, crouching down for a better vantage point. Ember flops onto his side, and you squeal.
“What’s the matter?!” Guts rushes to your side, looking around the room for any threats. You point at Ember, your hands shaking from excitement. Guts turns his head, and his expression softens. “Just when I thought the fucker couldn’t get any cuter.”
You gasp and grab his arm. “I have a basket I never use. What if….” You gesture frantically towards Ember, and Guts catches on.
“He would have his own bed. And you could carry him too!” 
You snap your fingers. “Yes, exactly!! I’ll be right back!” You stand up and head to your room with a spring in your step. You hum happily and open the door, forgetting to close it in your excitement.
“And just where have you been?” You pause. You haven’t heard that voice in days—a week almost.
“Griffith?” You stare in shock. You wouldn’t blame yourself if it turns out you’re hallucinating. But Griffith is very much real and not a figment of your imagination when he invades your personal space. 
He frowns and furrows his brows. “Were you expecting someone else?” he asks. You step back, and the smile on your face falters. 
“What? Of course not. What gave you that idea?” You search his eyes and find nothing but suspicion. Does he not trust you?
“It’s alright, darling. I understand it gets lonely. I didn’t mean to leave you alone so often,” he condescends. He reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. 
White, hot anger flashes through your veins. “I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.” Your tone drops low, and Griffith smiles. 
He tilts his head to the side. “Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” you seethe, shoving his hand off of you. “If you actually asked anyone here how I’ve been, you would know the answer.”
“I—”
“No.” You jab a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to disappear with no explanation for, what, a week? And then come back to accuse me of cheating?” You huff and clench your fists, raising them before letting your arms fall to your sides right after. 
Griffith bristles at your raised voice. “Stop acting like a selfish child. I am doing what’s best for us. Do you know how hard I am working to improve our lives?”
“I’m not being selfish,” you say. You swallow the lump in your throat and continue, “All I ask for is a fraction of your time and affection. Countless nights going to bed and waking up alone. I’m sick of it.” You keep your tone even, refusing to let him know how much this is destroying you internally. 
Griffith scoffs, “What am I? A pet? Must I return to you every night and be at your beck and call?”
You shake your head. “I never said that. Stop twisting my words!” He does this all the time. That glib tongue of his comes in handy when interacting with the nobles. But he uses it against you to gain the upper hand in arguments. You don’t have the energy to deal with this. Today was going so well—you got to pet a cat! And now, this one interaction has soured it all. You turn towards the door. 
“Where are you going?” Griffith asks. Are you running from your problems? Yes. Do you care? Not at the moment, although you’re sure you’ll regret this later. 
You glance over your shoulder. “I’m going to cool off.” You storm out, but not before grabbing the basket you came for. The door whips open from the sudden force. Your feet continue trudging with no destination in mind. Eventually, you stop in front of Guts’s room. You stand in front of the door and wait until your eyes no longer burn, breathing slowly to ease the tightness in your throat. With another deep breath, you enter the room.
“You ok?” Guts gets straight to the point. He takes in your expression and curses under his breath. “Stupid question. Course you aren’t.” You hate how gentle his tone is. You don’t want to be treated like a wounded animal. 
“He just makes me so mad sometimes,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. Gravity works against you, and your tears still fall. Guts walks up to you but lingers around an invisible threshold. He looks conflicted. Like he wants to comfort you but is afraid to get too close. He remains an arms-length away 
Guts opens and closes his mouth. You can see he’s cycling through various things to say, and you appreciate his thoughtfulness. “Cause he leaves you alone often?” 
You wince. “Were we that loud?”
Guts shrugs and says, “Half the band could hear ya going at each other. The door was also wide open.”
“Fuck.” You plop onto the ground and sit cross-legged. You are not looking forward to the looks you’ll receive from everyone once word spreads of your fight with Griffith. For ex-mercenaries, they sure do love their gossip. “It’s just not fair when he gets mad at me for doing the same things he does to me. And then he has the nerve to accuse me of cheating?” You lie down, hoping the wood against your back will ground you. 
Ember shimmies out of the bag and curls up on our chest. The added weight is comforting and warm. He purrs loudly, and you laugh through your tears. Guts sits down beside you, still maintaining some distance. This irritates you, so you decide to bridge the gap by shuffling closer to him. 
He tenses up, but you don’t care. You like the warmth radiating from his body. “You can always come to me if you need someone to listen to your troubles,” he says, glancing down at you. “Or for some cat cuddles.” He pets Ember on the head. “They’re great at healin’ all types of emotional wounds.”. 
You crack a wry smile. “Thank you.” You can faintly hear Griffith calling your name. He must be looking everywhere for you. “I gotta go. His Highness is calling me.” You sit up and move Ember onto Guts’s lap. The cat gives you an annoyed look and flicks his tail. You apologize as you stand up, promising to bring treats next time. 
Guts tugs on your pants leg. “Just take care of yourself, yeah?”
You nod but don’t give a verbal answer. Waving goodbye, you head in the direction you last heard Griffith. 
You never take Guts up on his offer. Griffith makes another promise and returns to you every night. 
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
“I’m leaving,” Guts says. He’s carrying Ember in his little basket, but your full attention is on the determined look on his face.
“Are you going to train? Can I join you?” you ask.
Guts shakes his head. “No. I’m leaving the band.”
You pause and stare. “You’re—you’re joking, right?” When he doesn’t say anything more, you realize he’s serious.
“I don’t belong here anymore,” he says. The expression on his face is all too familiar to you. The face of someone who knows they cannot stay. But you just can’t understand why he would want to leave everything behind.
“But what about Griffith? Casca? The men in your unit?”
Guts smiles and shrugs. “They’ll be fine without me.”
You stare at the ground and fidget with your fingers. “What about me?” you ask in a quiet voice. When you dare to look up, he looks conflicted, And for a second, you actually think he’ll stay.
“...Come with me then,” he suggests.
You blink owlishly at him. “Sorry?”
“Come with me. We can travel together and look for our own dreams.” He looks so earnest that it hurts to turn down his offer.
“Guts, you know I can’t leave.”  You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. The thought of leaving Griffith is too much to bear.
Guts furrows his brows. “We both know that’s bullshit. It’s only a matter of if you want to.”
“I….” You’re at a loss for words. Yes, it would be so much easier to just leave everything behind and start again. Travel with someone who actually enjoys your company. Explore the world to find yourself. But you just can’t. Silver hair and blue eyes will continue to haunt you no matter where you go. You don’t want to prove Griffith right by running away from your problems.
Guts places a hand on your shoulder, and you stiffen. No one but Griffith ever gets this close to you. “Love, I’ve seen the way he treats you. He’s cold one minute, then showers you with affection. And the two of you pretend as if nothing happened. It ain’t healthy,” he says.
You frown. Griffith can be a bit moody, but that’s because he’s been under a lot of stress lately. “No, Griffith loves me.” 
“And so do I.” Guts scans your face. You’re not sure what he’s looking for. “Why can’t you see that?” he rasps.
You smile and pat his hand. “You’re a good friend, Guts.” You’re glad that he cares so much for you. You hope that he achieves his goal—you really do.
Guts chortles, “Right. Friend. Listen, if you won’t leave with me, at least save yourself the heartache and end things with Griffith.”
Your smile slips. “I love him too much,” you say, gnawing the inside of your cheek.
“He ain’t the man you think he is, and you’ll feel like a fool when you realize it,” he warns.
You shrug your shoulders. “I know I’m a fool, but I can’t stop loving him.” If only it was easy to stop loving someone. People would be changing lovers like they change clothes. Despite knowing Griffith is flirting with Princess Charlotte, you can’t bring yourself to hate him. You definitely don’t blame Charlotte. So yes, you’re well aware of how naive you are to think Griffith is still yours alone.
Guts hands you the basket. “Take care of Ember. I would take him with me, but I’d worry too damn much since I’m gonna travel lots.” You take the basket and peer at the orange tabby, who’s adjusted very well to domestic life.
“He’s going to miss you,” you say, holding back tears.
Guts pats your head, and a bitter smile twists his lips. “He ain’t even gonna notice I’m gone.”
“He will. He’ll definitely notice and miss you a lot.” There’s a pregnant pause. You both know you’re not talking about the cat. 
Guts rubs the back of his neck. “I ain’t good with goodbyes, so I’ll see you again,” he says.
“Soon?” you croak, tightening your grip on the basket.
“Whenever our paths decide to cross.” He ruffles your hair and laughs when you gripe about it. You resist the urge to hug him, remembering how he flinched the last time you touched him. So instead, you wave and stand in the doorway until he disappears from sight.
“Looks like it’s just you and me now, little guy,” you whisper to Ember, who rolls onto his back and stares up at you with his green eyes. You shut the door and set the basket by the fireplace, heading to the ice chest to prepare supper.
The day that Guts leaves is the first time Griffith breaks a promise to you. You wait all night for him, but he never shows up. You fall asleep in front of the fireplace, curled up in an armchair. You don’t find out why until the morning when some band members storm your room and demand you get ready before promptly leaving.
“What have you done…” you sigh and trail after the rest of the band. 
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
He got captured. The stupid idiot got himself captured for treason. It’s been almost a year, and you’re still struggling to wrap your mind around it. You didn’t realize how important Guts is to Griffith. But then, doesn’t that mean you aren’t as important to him as you thought? Because at his lowest, Griffith decided to seek comfort from someone else and not you. When you came to this conclusion, you decided you wouldn’t live for someone else again. Yes, you still love him. But you can’t forgive his actions. His decision put the rest of the band in danger and destroyed everything he built toward his dream.
What’s left of the band is planning a rescue mission. With Guts back, you know that the operation is guaranteed to be successful. You were going to greet him but hung back when you saw him with Casca. It seems you have a track record of having an interest in men who have their eyes on someone else. You pretend to not notice when they disappear together. Instead, you sit on a log and cuddle with Ember, who miraculously found you after your exile. Food isn’t as plentiful as it was in the capital, but he doesn’t complain. You’re thankful you don’t have to spend your nights alone again.
When Casca briefs everyone on the plan, you feel hurt that you’re not part of the group that infiltrates the tower. She sees right through you and shakes her head before you can utter a word. You bite your lip and nod, unwilling to make a scene in front of everyone. This small interaction catches Guts’s attention, and your eyes meet for the first time since he’s arrived. You quickly look away, missing the hurt that flashes across his face.
Everyone gets into their position, and all you can do is wait.
You don’t wait long. From the racket you’re hearing, things did not go smoothly as planned. Once the signal is given, the rest of the group charges into the fray. You see the bodies dangling from weapons, and rage burns inside you. It’s been a while since you’ve spilled some blood.
By the end of it, you’ve won. Guts managed to defeat whatever that monstrosity was. And for the first time in a year, you see Griffith—what’s left of him anyway. You wait until Judeau and Casca are done before slipping into the tent. You’re having trouble reconciling the Griffith you know and the empty husk in front of you. You stand in silence as you examine how a year of torture has treated Griffith. He has a helmet on, but you imagine that his face matches the rest of his body. The scars and missing skin make you sick to your stomach. What you worry about the most is when you overheard how Griffith will never be able to walk or wield a sword again. Flesh can be healed, but tendons cannot.
A gurgled noise snaps you out of your thoughts. No. You clench your fists. They didn’t take his tongue, too, right? You see those familiar blue eyes again, but they look dull now.
“Hi,” you rasp, waving awkwardly.
“I told ya I could handle this—oh. It’s you,” Guts cuts himself off. He glances between you and Griffith. “I was just helpin’ Griffith put on his armour.”
You pause and wait. When Griffith says nothing, your feared assumption is confirmed. “What did they do to you….” You move closer and crouch in front of him. He slumps forward, and his body leans against you. You inwardly curse at how light he is. You stiffly bring your arms up and wrap them around his torso. Guts motions his head to the wagon entrance, and you shake your head. Gently, you squeeze Griffith. The bandages feel smooth in contrast to his rough skin. You hear a quiet sob that breaks your heart. “Let’s get you suited up,” you say, blinking back the tears. You receive a slight nod, and it brings a smile to your face. So you assist Guts in dressing Griffith in his armour. A commotion outside draws your attention, and Guts tells you to stay with Griffith while he checks it out. You had no idea that it would be the trigger for a series of unfortunate events.
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
You stare up at the eclipse. The entire field is washed in crimson, both with the blood-red light and your fallen comrades. How did it come to this? Do his friends mean so little to him? Do you mean so little to him? 
Shutting your eyes won’t help. The constant screams and cries of your friends pierce your eardrums. The roars of the monsters as they tear into flesh and bone rattle your heart in your ribcage. And, oh god, the smell. The air is foul, and you can almost taste the iron on your tongue. You feel the bile rise up your throat, and you dry heave. The sour and bitter taste is more welcome than metal. 
It’s not until half of your comrades are slaughtered that you realize nothing is attacking you. You’re kneeling in a pool of blood and carnage, and not a single drop of it is yours. Why? Why must you watch everyone get slaughtered while you’re the sole exception? The guilt claws at your skin. You ignore the feeling and glare up at the pillar of flesh. 
Griffith is simply watching the chaos before him. His eyes are cold, and dread runs through your veins. You want to believe that a part of him feels remorse, that a part of him is regretful over sacrificing his loved ones. But you know him better than that. He doesn’t care so long as he gets what he wants. And he will never want anything more than to achieve his dream. The end justifies the means. Isn’t that how the saying goes? 
Your eyes meet. You’re too far away to see, but you can picture the smirk on his lips, the way the right corner of his mouth lifts up ever so slightly whenever things go his way. There’s an indescribable anger that simmers beneath your skin, threatening to burst through your veins to make its presence known. 
And you remember that it’s because you all mean so much to him that he’s chosen to sacrifice everyone. He loves you and still chose his dream over everything you built together. But why won’t he let any of the creatures harm a single hair on your head? You are a sacrifice, and he is choosing to spare you. For what reason? For what purpose? Surely he’s not narcissistic enough to believe you’ll still welcome him with open arms after slaughtering everyone? Or maybe he’s leaving you until the end. To finish you off himself. Either way, you are not leaving this world without taking that bastard down. 
You don’t want—no. You refuse to look around the field. Because you don’t know what you’ll do if you recognize one of the mutilated corpses or mounds of flesh. You might lose it if you focus too much and spot what remains of one of your close friends. So where else to look but up? Up at the one who started it all. 
A gasp tumbles from your lips when you notice a figure crawling up the pillar. You had forgotten that Guts was swept away with Griffith. Even now, he’s trying to save him. Bitter tears burn your eyes. You no longer believe Griffith is worth saving. What a colossal waste of your time. 
You can do nothing but sit there as the river of blood turns into a lake. Every time Guts gets close to Griffith, he’s swatted away like a fly. Eventually, he plummets to the ground. To your horror, Griffith is engulfed in a white ball of light. The monsters bellow at the sight, waving around detached limbs and corpses. Entrails and viscera fly through the air, and the squelchy splatters send a wave of nausea through you. 
Everyone’s dead. Oh, God. Everyone’s dead. And now you’re all alone. You look back up to see Griffith emerge from the light. At least you think it’s Griffith. The only recognizable characteristic is the beak-like helmet that resembles the armour he wore. He is covered from head to toe in black. The blue eyes you love getting lost in now resemble an iceberg; cold and deadly on impact. 
The abominations that ignored you earlier now turn towards you. All your limbs are snatched and restrained. You scream and flail against their iron grip. Griffith descends from the large hand and waits as you’re dragged in front of him. 
“Hello, darling.” Griffith’s greeting is anything but pleasant. He still looks at you with affection, but you’re no longer sure if that’s a good thing. You know there are some fates far worse than death. His hands are clawed at the tips, and the sharp points trail down the soft flesh of your cheek. You stiffen, afraid that he’ll slice you open if you move. “Terribly sorry you had to witness such atrocities.” His finger trails down your neck and along the slope of your collarbone. “Well, I suppose they were only minor inconveniences.” He shrugs and studies your expression. 
“Those ‘inconveniences’ were your friends,” you spit out. He grins and grabs your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. 
“Friends?” Griffith chuckles. “Care to join them?” he asks, but you both know the answer. You feel his nails dig into your skin, fresh wounds stinging as sweat drips into them. “I didn’t think so,” he sneers when you remain silent. 
“I believed in you. I listened to your promises. And for what?” Your voice cracks near the end as the tears trickle down your face. Griffith tuts and brushes your cheek, licking the tears off his finger. The grin on his face is manic. And for the first time in your life, you’re afraid of him. 
“I hardly ever break my promises, especially to you, dear.” He strokes your hair, and how his talons scrape against your scalp raises goosebumps on your skin. He grins when you involuntarily shudder. “You are my scythe and mine to wield alone.” His eyes dart to the side. When you turn to follow his gaze, you see Guts fighting back a horde of monsters. You aren’t alone after all, but for how much longer? You can’t decipher whether you feel relief or terror.
The monsters release their hold on you, but some invisible force is still gripping you in place. You look at Griffith, and he’s staring at his hand with a curious expression. It’s the expression of a child that’s discovered a new toy. You attempt to wiggle your fingers, but your body refuses to listen. You grunt and can only move your head. A yelp escapes your lips when you’re turned around mid-air, and Griffith presses up against you from behind. 
You watch in horror as Guts falters from your shriek and a monster clamps its jaws around his arm. He tries to behead the monster, only for his sword to snap in half. You meet his panic-stricken eyes with your own. His face twists with rage, and you hear Griffith click his tongue by your ear. 
“Let’s give him a show, darling,” Griffith purrs. His tone is possessive as his hands caress your stomach. His gentle touch ends when he tears your clothes off. You scream and manage to move your limbs, kicking his leg in the process. Griffith grunts and a small smile flashes across Guts’s face before it’s replaced with worry again. “Acting disobedient, dear?” Griffith sighs with disappointment, and you freeze at his words. “I was going to be gentle, but a harsh punishment might teach you better.” The invisible force now feels twice as heavy, and you no longer have mobility over your limbs.  
The breeze is freezing against your bare skin, and disgust rolls off you in waves. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what Griffith plans to do with you. But maybe this is what you deserve for denying him all those nights. You whimper when his fingers brush against your nipples. His erection presses into your back. Griffith lets out a low growl and draws blood with his sharp talons. This is not how you wanted your first time to be. Instead of candlelight and wine, you are basking in the light of the eclipse. The only red liquid around is blood. You begin to sob as utter helplessness consumes you. Griffith shushes your cries and nuzzles into your neck. You feel the vibrations when he chuckles. 
Guts is still visible in your field of vision, and he looks furious now. You gasp when he takes his sword and severs his arm to escape the monster’s jaws. He begins running towards you and takes down two monsters along the way. But one of them slams into him, and they form a dogpile to hinder his movements. Guts struggles, but it’s no use. He’s completely restrained and can only watch Griffith’s twisted performance. You give him a grateful smile and close your eyes, resigning yourself to your fate. 
“Did you ever notice how he would look at you?” Griffith questions, his talons digging into your hips when you don’t answer. He loosens his grip when you groan and shake your head. “He was one of my closest companions. You two are the only people I would ever consider giving up my dream for.” His hands travel down to your thighs. “But that doesn’t matter now.” He forces your legs to part, and you stifle the sob that gurgles in the back of your throat. “I hated the way he looked at you. He knew you were mine and still chose to keep his lecherous gaze on you.” 
You open your eyes and let out a confused stutter. Making eye contact with Guts, you see a depth of emotions that you never noticed before. It makes the anguish on his face unbearable to look at. 
“What are you doing?” you whisper. A numbness spreads throughout your chest like there’s a black hole sucking up all your emotions. 
“Making sure the entire world knows who you belong to,” Griffith growls. Suddenly there’s a searing pain on your right inner thigh. The burning sensation rips a scream from you, and you nearly faint. You can only compare this to how livestock are branded with hot iron. Warm blood trickles down your leg, and you bark a bitter laugh, mind muddled from the pain. 
“So now you want me,” you say, glaring at the ground. 
“Don’t be like that, darling. I’ve always wanted you. The others were only a means to an end. You know that.” Griffith says and kisses your shoulder. It feels like a million insects are crawling underneath your skin, and you bite your lip to subdue the urge to retch. 
“Is that what Charlotte was? A means to an end?” You can’t help but let your bitterness seep into your tone.
“Now, now. Let’s not be rude and forget our audience tonight.” You glance over at Guts, and he’s no longer struggling. He’s panting heavily with his eyes trained on your form. Frustration and fury mar his features. It’s a pity you never noticed his feelings earlier. Maybe you would have left with him when he asked, and you wouldn’t be in this mess now. “If I recall correctly, a punishment is due for your disobedience.” Griffith walks around you until you’re face to face. You don’t register the slashes until your abdomen stings and weeps with your blood. He hums and licks his talons. What is with this man and licking your bodily fluids??
“Fuck you,” you bite out, gritting your teeth to temper the pain.
“All in due time, my dear,” Griffith says with a salacious grin. You start to feel light-headed.
“You promised,” you say, blinking to clear the spots in your vision.
Griffith tsks, “Some promises need to be broken for others to be kept.” He says it like that’s just the way things are. No consideration of your feelings whatsoever. You’ve been labelled as collateral damage. 
You build on your last point. “You promised you would never force me into anything without my consent.” Griffith has never broken a promise to you before. You desperately cling to that belief. Except he has. And if he’s lied to you before, what makes you so sure he won’t do it again?
“Think on the bright side. We’ll become connected as one,” Griffith purrs, eyes roaming your body. You feel like a piece of meat strung up at the butcher. 
“You’re a filthy liar,” you snarl.
Griffith’s voice drops an octave. “Darling, I won’t tolerate baseless accusations.” It’s not a warning, but a demand for obedience.
You snort. That’s rich coming from him. “You’re a goddamn liar, and I fucking hope you rot.”
“You don’t mean that.” His blue eyes become glacial. “Tell me you’re joking.” His hands wrap around your throat. “Say it!” With just the right amount of pressure, Griffith can strangle you or crush your trachea. His grip tightens, but only enough to shorten your supply of oxygen.
“....” You concentrate on Guts and refuse to respond.
Your silence further agitates him. And then it finally happens. His focus slips for a moment due to his anger, but it’s enough for you to grab the dagger strapped to your thigh and drive it into his shoulder. Griffith lets out an inhuman screech, and you drop to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Air rushes into your lungs, and you hack out a cough. 
“Just wait, darling. I’ll have you, even if it can’t be officially.”
The last thing you hear before you black out is the rattling of bones and the thundering of hooves.
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
You wake up in a cave. There’s a faint light coming from the ceiling and the sound of water falling in the distance. Through the haze in your mind, you recognize that you’re in an unfamiliar place. You bolt upright, looking around to gather your bearings. There’s rustling behind you, and you whip your head in the direction of the noise. Startled, you scream when a girl pops up by your side. 
She’s unphased by your reaction and smiles widely. “I’m Erica!” Her voice is bright and cheery. She hands you a mug, and you glance at the liquid with suspicion. The earnest expression on her face persuades you to take a sip. You sigh with relief when it’s water. Feeling parched, you gulp the rest down. “Are you Guts’s lover?” You choke on your last sip of water. Your throat burns from the coughing fit. “Cause I think you’re really pretty, and he keeps mumbling your name in his sleep,” she whispers conspiratorily to you. You turn to see where she’s glancing at and notice that Guts is lying not far from you. 
He looks rough. You inhale sharply when you notice the bandaged stump at his side—fuck there’s one around his eye too. You hope he didn’t lose an eye. “Is he… ok?” you ask, voice scratchy from not talking for a while.
“Godot says he’ll be fine, and I believe him! Guts is super tough!!” she flexes her arms to exaggerate, and you can’t help but giggle. This kid is adorable. “But he did lose an arm and an eye. We’re not sure when he’ll wake up.” The graveness in her tone throws you off. “You must feel bad that he got hurt, but it’s not your fault.” Suddenly, her gaze makes you uncomfortable.
“I….” You stare at the small being in front of you. Since when were children so observant?
“Oh my god, you’re awake!” You turn your head to the cave entrance and try to decipher the figure jogging towards you.
“...Rickert?” You rub your eyes, convinced that you’re hallucinating. But Rickert pulls you into a hug, and you crumble in his embrace. All the feelings you couldn’t express during the eclipse come bursting forth. You cry for an embarrassingly long time, blubbering incoherently about what happened that night. He holds you and tells you about what happened to him and how the three of you are all the only survivors left of the band. He goes on to explain where you are and how long you’ve been unconscious. You’ve been unconscious for four days, recovering in an ore mine.
“Is there somewhere I can clean myself?” you ask. You can still feel the stickiness of blood on your skin, and surely you stink.
“Yeah, there’s a waterfall deeper in the cave. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.” He hugs you once more. “It’s good to see you again.” His smile is infectious, and you nod. While Rickert leaves fetch clothes, you head to the waterfall. Erica seems to have wandered off, so you have some privacy. You peel off your clothes and stand underneath the falling water. The pressure isn’t as hard as you expected. It’s almost pleasant. You scrub your skin until it’s raw and pink, but it doesn’t remove the stickiness or the smell of iron that lingers. You let out a frustrated groan and scrub too hard, breaking open the skin on your arm. The water stings as it laps at your new wound. But you just stand there, holding your arm out until you become numb to the stinging.
A hand grasps your shoulder, and you’re teleported back there again with him. You yelp and jump away, back pressed against the rocks. Your eyes dart for an escape route, and panic seizes you when a pair of hands grab your shoulders again. You thrash and cry out, freezing when you realize it’s Guts. You can only see the left side of his face, but his mouth is slanted in a smile. You bite your lip to prevent it from quivering.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were….” You trail off, unable to complete your sentence. You hug your arms around yourself and avoid his gaze. 
“S’alright. C’mere.” His right arm is open, and he’s waiting patiently for you to make the next move. You stumble into him and bury your face into his chest, apologizing weakly for getting his bandages wet. He kisses your forehead and holds you tight. “I get it, y’know? The whole bein’ touched thing. I, uh, had some things happen when I was a kid that made me hate bein’ touched 'cause it would always remind me of those memories.”
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.” You squeeze him tight, but it’s surprisingly difficult with how muscular his torso is. 
Guts chuckles, but it’s bitter and hollow. “Yeah. There was a man who would… do bad things to me. And I couldn’t do jack shit ‘cause I was just a kid.” 
“But you’re still here. Learning this about you… I think you’re the strongest person I know.” And you mean every word. Guts stares at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. He cups your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb.
“Wasn’t very strong a couple nights ago,” he mutters. You can see that he feels guilty. You also carry the same weight on your shoulders. After all, why did you get to survive while everyone else died? But you can’t allow yourself to be trapped by these thoughts. You need to figure out what to do now.
You pat his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum against your palm. “I don’t think we should blame ourselves for that,” you say. “We had no idea any of that would happen.”
Guts shakes his head, pain etched into his features. “But I did. I knew somethin’ was going to happen. I heard a goddamn prophecy foretellin’ it. I didn’t think it would be a fuckin’ slaughter.” He rubs a hand over his face and sighs. You do your best to support his weight when he leans against you. 
The moment is interrupted by Rickert, who clears his throat, holding your change of clothes. You thank him and walk away to change, leaving the two to continue their conversation. Unfortunately, the change of clothes consists of a single shirt. The shirt is enormous and swallows your frame, reaching down to your thighs. It’ll have to do for now, but you need to ask where the closest shop is. As you’re walking back, Guts dashes past you. You look at Rickert, but he only shakes his head.
A faint meow echoes through the cave. “Did you hear that?” you ask. You swear you catch a glimpse of orange by the cave entrance. Ignoring Rickert’s pleas, you exit the cave and follow the little paw prints on the ground. You walk through bushes and other foliage until you’re at the foot of a hill. Glancing up, you see a pair of cat ears twitching for a split second. Despite the dull pain in your abdomen, you trek up the hill. “Ember? Is that you?” You left him behind with Rickert and the others. From what Rickert’s told you, you’re not sure if the little guy survived the ordeal. 
Another meow causes you to pivot around. There on a tree branch is Ember. You find comfort in seeing a familiar face. You coo at the cat to come down. And when he does, he weaves between your legs, rubbing his head against your calves. Something feels odd. Ember isn’t as vibrant as you remember. His body is almost translucent. A searing pain interrupts your thoughts. You see blood trickling down your leg from where Griffith marked you.
Ember hisses. You snap your head up, taken aback by the ring of figures surrounding you. The cat circles you protectively, hissing at the weird creatures. They make no move to get closer to you, so Ember eventually settles by your feet, guarding you. You remain still, unsure of what to do in this situation. The thundering of hooves draws nearer, and you hear Guts call out your name. He's riding on a horse with a skeleton? He dismounts and runs to you, frantically checking you for any injuries. He mumbles incoherently when he finds nothing. 
You manage to hear him say, “I can’t lose you too.” You cup his face in your hands, smiling at this wonderful man. His posture relaxes, and he leans his forehead against yours. “I was afraid,” he confesses. “I was afraid I wouldn’t reach you in time and find you dead.”
“I’m ok. You’re ok. We’re both ok,” you state calmly. He nods, taking in a deep breath.
“How intriguing.” You don’t recognize the voice. The skeleton appears beside you, his eye sockets observing you with a scrutinizing gaze. “Yes, what makes you so special?” He leans closer, tsking with disappointment when you shrink away.
“I’m not some circus animal,” you huff.
The skeleton tilts his head. “No, but you are certainly more interesting than one. What about you keeps these spirits at bay?”
“Spirits? Is that what these things are?” you ask, eyeing them warily.
“Yes, and your little feline too. Although it’s quite rare for pets to linger. I’ve seen it with a dog before but never with a cat. However, a cat is not strong enough to protect you from spirits.” He scans your figure and focuses on your bloody leg. You are pulled away from Guts. Your shirt is hiked up to expose your thighs despite your shouts of protest. “Aha! The source of your protection.” The Skull Knight examines the symbol on your inner thigh with interest.
“That’s different from mine,” Guts points out. He traces the mark on his neck. 
“Maybe everyone receives a different marking?” you suggest, failing to convince even yourself.
The Skull Knight scoffs. “The brand of sacrifice is not like a coat pattern. There is only one,” he remarks. You move to get away, but he has a firm grip on your leg. “This… this is something else.” 
“If it’s not a brand of sacrifice, what is it?” you ask, wondering what would happen if you kicked this skeleton right in his rib cage.
The Skull Knight clicks his teeth. “If memory serves me correctly, this loosely translates to ‘side love.’” He finally releases your leg.
You laugh in disbelief. “Huh.” You tug the shirt to cover the mark, clenching the fabric in your hand. How ironic. When you decide to cut your losses, Griffith clings harder to you. He’s like a damn cockroach. You just can’t get rid of him. Your skin flushes hotly. How dare he mark you as ‘his’ when you finally decide to leave him. He has no right to claim you after betraying your love and murdering all your friends. The translation suggests that you won’t be the only one, and your thoughts wander to Charlotte. Of course, he always put her first.
The Skull Knight nods, tapping his jawbone thoughtfully. “Yes, I can faintly sense traces of dark magic lingering in your mark.”
“Well, how do I get rid of it?” you ask. The sooner you get rid of it, the better. You don’t want a constant reminder of Griffith permanently branded onto your skin.
“Perish, I suppose,” the Skull Knight answers. When you glare at him, he adds, “There is currently no known method to remove it.” You sigh. That’s just lovely. There’s a sour expression on Guts’s face, and you know you aren’t fairing any better. You’re potentially stuck with a reminder of your psychotic past lover for the rest of your life. 
The sun rises, and the ring of spirits disappears. Ember remains, looking up at you with his big, green eyes. You scoop him up out of instinct and cradle him to your chest. You’re pleasantly surprised when you discover he’s tangible. It’s the same as if he was alive. The Skull Knight crouches in front of the cat, who pays no attention to him. “Extraordinary! It’s as if there’s some otherly force helping you retain a corporeal form during the day,” he says, but Ember’s disinterest is unshakeable. Dejected, he turns to Guts and starts a discussion. You don’t pay attention much, hearing a recurrence of ‘apostles,’ ‘demons,’ and ‘evil.’ From the determined look on Guts’s face, you have a hunch about what he plans to do. 
The Skull Knight leaves, and Rickert and Erica appear shortly after. The two confess their worries over your lengthy absence. They went to look for you when you didn’t come back, fearing you would hurt yourself or get lost in the dark. The four of you head back to the cave with you and Guts trailing behind. Despite being a spirit, you can feel Ember’s weight as he drapes around your shoulders. You missed hearing his purrs.
Guts is lost in thought. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake over his body. Almost all his bandages are gone. You’re sure every wound has reopened. You reach out and hold his hand. “Whatever you plan on doing, count me in,” you say. He looks down at your intertwined hands and squeezes them gently. It’s too early. You both lost a lot recently. The pain is still too raw for you to confess your feelings. But for now, you don’t need to say anything. In the following days, when he kisses your forehead, pulls you closer to him at night, or brings you hot chocolate to keep you warm, you just know he loves you too. So yes, the world outside the mine is a frightening place to exist right now. But you have time to heal, to spend time with this man you absolutely adore, and cuddle with your spirit kitty.
─── ⋆ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚。⋆ ───
End Note:
I did rush the ending a bit because I just wanted the damn fic to end lol, so sorry if it feels a bit awkward. I have not watched Berserk in a while and I didn't read any of the manga so my knowledge of what happens is a little foggy. I basically just read the wiki a lot lmao.
I wanted to try and set up this dynamic with Griffith where it feels like he loves you on the surface level, but there's this creeping feeling that something is wrong. I don't think I figured out how to execute that well in this oneshot, but hopefully I do if I ever decide to rewrite this.
I did struggle a bit trying to balance the fluff between Griffith and Guts. The one thing I especially struggled with was what to do with Casca. It's implied here that she dies in the eclipse because I honestly had no plans for her. I was not able to come up with any ideas for how to use her if she survives, but I still wanted her to develop a relationship with Guts for character development purposes. So please ignore that obvious plot hole.
I'm starting to ramble so I'm gonna cut myself off here.
I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ
Reblogs are appreciated!
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jacks-obsessions · 2 years
Note
How about Yandere Griffith headcannons? 👀👀
You are part of his dream and Griffith will do anything for his dream
He keeps you by his side outside of battle
If he is in battle he'll leave you at the camp
When he has downtime he spends it with you
If he sees anyone hitting on you he'll give them the "hawk stare" and then drags back to his tent and fucks you
Not only does he fuck you but he makes sure everyone knows who you belong to
You will be his queen
Charlotte is nothing more than a stepping stone (poor girl)
When he's captured he thinks of you and his dream
Now when he is rescued from the dungeon he doesn't want you to see him like that
During the eclipse he is so humiliated and desperate he will even sacrifice you
He doesn't want you to see him weak and in his irrational state he sees sacrificing you as a better fate than not having him the way he used to be
If you survive or were with Rickert, he as Neo Griffith will still want you by his side
You are still part of his dream and something deep inside of him pulls him to you
Even if he didn't want you anymore that need will pull him to you
When he's with you he feels at ease so he will keep you as long as you live
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dollwrites · 6 months
Text
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 ]
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“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.”
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knightofmight01 · 19 days
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Requests: OPEN
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After quite a long time, I decided to re-open requests 🌹 Please check this out before sending any ask.
Writing
Fandoms:
Baldur's Gate [Halsin, Astarion, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor]
Berserk [Guts, Casca, Judeau, Griffith (Golden Age only!), Serpico, Farnese]
Haikyuu
Slam Dunk
Jujutsu Kaisen [Gojo, Geto, Toji]
*Please notice: the mentioned characters are the ones I feel mostly comforable writing. Feel free to ask any character you wish to read about.
What I write:
Headcanons (single & multiple characters)
Scenarios
Both Canon and AU
OC/Reader x Character, polyamorous Reader
Any gender is accepted
SFW
Mild NSFW (aka mention of violence/battle, suggestive or implied sex)
-> MASTERLIST
-> How to send your request: please send me an ask. Describe briefly your idea / prompt and the character you wish to read about. If you have any specific wish, please include this in the description.
What I do NOT write:
Offensive, discriminatory and denigratory content
Gore
Minor x Adult pairing
Incest
Rape
Please notice, I might refuse to accept your request, if I either feel uncomfortable with the suggested prompt or it concerns content I do not write for.
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jean0farc · 5 months
Text
#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ; ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ
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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.
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“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.
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psych0cherry · 9 months
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1×1 M/F PR partner!
Hey guys! I'm 18 years old and looking for a partner (Man or woman, it doesn't matter.) to write RP stories (Romance with an engaging plot and story) in anime style! I have several OCs from different anime universes, with fascinating and creative personalities. I'd like to share a list of anime I'd love to use as a backdrop, as well as characters I'd like someone to play as a couple. However, if you prefer to play another character, we can talk about it.
I appreciate stories with a hint of masochism and dark romance, with cruel paths and tragic endings. While that's my preference, I also love writing cute things as long as there's a good plot. I have absolutely no triggers. I like to write longer texts, but I can adapt to your writing style! While I can also write obscenities, I prefer not to limit myself to just that.
First, I would like to mention that I am Brazilian and I am using Google Translate to communicate in English. However, my writing in Portuguese is correct, so I believe that the translation does not have many errors.
Here's a list of fandoms and characters I'd love for you to play, if you're interested in the dynamic!
Kimetsu no Yaiba:
- Douma.
- muzan.
- Obanai.
- akaza.
Berserk:
- Griffith.
Diabolik Lovers:
- Honestly, any of them.
- But I have a preference for Laito, Subaru, Azusa.
Naruto:
- Neji.
- Deidara.
Danganronpa:
- Nagito.
- Kokichi.
- Byakuya.
- Chihiro.
- Fuyuhiko.
Inuyasha:
- Inuyasha lol.
Kamisama Kiss:
- literally every character.
Tokyo Revengers:
- Mikey.
- Izana.
- Ran.
- Sanzu.
Angels of Death:
- Zack.
I accept suggestions too!
I can write lgbt, gay or lesbian couples, it doesn't matter, but you would have to help me a little with that.
If you're interested, like this post and I'll DM you. You can also send me a DM through my blog or contact me directly on Discord. :)
My Discord name: g0thyz_
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sweetlywriting · 2 years
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Last weakness
Griffith x Reader
Warnings-Starts off very fluffy but gets very dark, slightly graphic descriptions of violence, gender neutral, you die.
It had always been the two of you, the Hawk and his closest friend. The first to join the band, the one who believed in Griffith most, the loyalist soldier. But he didn’t show favoritism. Or at least tried to.
It had been a bloody skirmish, what was supposed to be a small fight had turned much more deadly than imagined and in the end you had deep cuts in your flesh and blood stuck in your hair. You had fallen long before some of the other soldiers and could see Griffith was the only one standing. Why he had chosen to carry you back was besides knowing.
He guided you too a nearby river and gently laid you down so your head was barely touching the river, face up. Oh. Your heart sank. Was he trying to drown you so death wouldn’t be as painful?
“I’m just going to wash your hair.” He said laughing lightly at the doom on your face.
“Ohh” You muttered back quite embarrassed.
Wait does that mean he'll-
Two warm hands gently started to thread through your hair as blood started to leave the tangled mess. The sky had been replaced with Griffith's leaning figure as he continued to wash your hair. There wasn’t much to other than stare and his features, majestic white hair framing his face and almost falling to yours, full lips, and skin the color of marble. Breathtaking.
"You look like an angel." To this he didn't respond, simply smiling half grim half warm smile. But you were sure of it, him picking you while the others died had to be some sort of divine intervention. He truly was an angel.
"You are an angel" You muttered fading off to sleep as he grazed his lips against your forehead and took you back to camp.
***
You had wanted to ask if that meant anything to him, but the look in his eyes told you not to question it. But you could tell something had changed by the way he brushed your hand before battle, and embraces that lasted far longer than normal.
Still, there was some sort of shift in the way he acted after that battle. You brushed it off to just be aftershock. surely no one would be the exact same seeing so many of their men being slaughtered. Now all he'd talk about was “something bigger” and “reaching new heights”, it had begun to worry you. You wanted to talk to him, but Griffith was already heading towards you.
“Ah y/n, will you walk with me? There’s something I want to speak about.”
You promptly joined him as he paced out of his tent and into the forest, the trail seemed familiar but you didn’t care much. A comfortable silence stretched out as your smiled at where he had lead you. The river where he washed your hair. You were about to comment on the nice sentiment when-
“I’m leaving the band.”
“What?!” You stumbled back in suprisie almost hitting the side of tree.
“I have a new dream. A kingdom. My kingdom.” He replied.
“What about everyone else? You can’t just leave us. You can’t leave me.”
“There’s only one thing stopping me. I love you y/n.”
This had ridden you completely speechless, stricken by all the emotions coursing through one small talk.
“If somehow you love back me I hope you understand why I have to get rid of any weakness,”
The warm from the sentiment of the place slowly vanished, replaced by only a second glance as Griffiths face more beautiful than ever as a strong hand wrapped around your neck and shoved your face into the water, face down this time. You choked as water filled in your mouth and nose. No matter how much you struggled the hand held you down firmly. You had not been given a chance to beg for your life, he was to afraid he might actually let you go.
When the struggling had stopped and your breathing had ceased Griffith had pulled you out, kissed your forehead once again and let your lifeless body flow down the stream.
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