"You can say it all you want. You know I won't listen." He never listened to anyone but himself. Especially when he set his mind on something. It's what made him so infuriating to deal with most of the time. Griffith chuckled as you glared at him. "I'd much rather listen to this."

He pushes his cock deep inside of you, his balls smacking against your ass. As you gasp from the way your pussy is being stretched he leans back down to bite the other side of your neck.

"Fucker." You pull him back again and scratch your hands against his scalp.

"Bitch." He retorts back with a cocky grin, his hips picking up the pace, "You think you can insult me and get away with it?"

Now it's your turn to grin, "I know I can. I'm the only one who can. Because you love this too. You love fucking me. Manwhore."

"Cockslut."

"In your dreams." You wrap your legs around him and lip him into his back, your hands grabbing his wrists and pinning him down. If there's one thing he absolutely hates that's you being on top.

"And your nightmares." Griffith met your hips in a rough sync, his hands digging into your thighs and keeping you against him. "You talk so much, you say you hate me, you fight me at every turn and yet... Here. You. Are." He grunted and moved his cock in and out. "Pussy drooling on my cock. If you hate me so much you should get off." As if he would let you go anywhere before he's satisfied.

You leaned down and cradled his face in your hands, "Let you off so easily? I don't think so." Before he could talk back yet again you pushed your fingers into his mouth. Griffith eyes widened for a moment before he bit them, not hard enough to make you pull back but enough to leave more teeth marks. "We're not done yet Griffith, not yet. Not until you come into my pussy like I know you want to."

Griffith bit down harder, growling curses at you as he pushed you down against him, his cock throbbing as you moaned on top if him.

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

"Guts?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He will come back.

-------

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

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

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

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

"She has your eyes.."

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

"She also has my hair.."

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

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

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

With you by his side.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shh! Don't bother them."

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

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

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

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

Griffith

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you for this, my love."

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

Tender kisses trail the length of your neck, feeling almost reverent as Griffith's fingers intertwine with yours. He shallowly thrusts into you, murmuring words of praise before he connects his lips with yours, pressing deeper into your drooling cunt.

"I love you." He murmurs, squeezing your hand. "I love you so much."

You mewl in response, gummy walls gripping his cock as if you were afraid he'd leave. "I love you too."

Griffith groans, gripping your waist as he loses himself to pleasure. You whine, back arching and fingers gripping the sheets of your shared bed as his cockhead reaches spots inside you that you had no idea existed before him.

"Griffith," You whimper, ""M gonna cum."

Griffith leans closer, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your chest, quietly groaning into the curves of your breasts. "Cum for me, dear."

You pull him closer, walls clenching and fluttering around his cock as you chant his name. "That's it, dear." He groans, thrusts growing sloppy as his own high nears. "You're doing so good for me- just a little bit longer."

After a few more thrusts, Griffith's hips still, cock throbbing inside of you as thick ropes of cum spill into your cunt. He gently pulls you to into his chest, cock still sheathed inside of you as his arms wrap around the small of your back. In the moment the two of you were one, or at least it felt that way.

griffith strikes me as the type of guy to sleep with socks on. i don’t know where it comes from, but it’s just a feeling i have.

he also strikes me as the type of guy to sing as he bathes. not quite belting it out, but not exactly quiet either.

i think he smells like outside. you know what i mean? like fresh air.

a god at playing chess. i feel like he could beat anyone playing chess.

i feel like he doesn’t like coffee. i feel like he doesn’t like the smell and he doesn’t like the bitter flavor, but also doesn’t want to add a ton of sugar to it to make it sweeter.

strikes me as a strawberry shortcake type of guy. i don’t know why, but i’m adding that on here.

i feel like he’s braided his hair at least once.

i also could see him reading like any book he could get his hands on. even if it’s a a manual on how to be a midwife. i feel like he love being knowledgeable.

if shit didn’t go the way it did, i could see him collecting books too.

since he’s a the leader of the band of hawk, he’s gotta train a lot so he doesn’t have a lot of free time, but when he does i feel like he spends it in a field. or like, perched on a rock and nature watching.

also, i feel like he plucks grass out of the ground when he’s by himself and bored.

as i was watching berserk, i noticed that everyone looked up to him and put him on a pedestal, so when he said that a friend to him is someone who is his equal in every aspect, i had this thought. i think that griffith was lonely before guts. if everyone puts you on a pedestal, do they really care about you as a person? do they only care as long as you maintain this image they’ve created of you?

that’s why i think griffith was lonely. i don’t think he’d had a real connection before guts, and that’s why guts was able to make griffith lose sight of his dream.

i noticed that when guts was running towards griffith before the eclipse, griffith said something along the lines of “no, go away”. i don’t think he wanted guts to see what was going to happen. granted, i very highly doubt that griffith even knew what was going to happen, but i think it was worst case scenario, he didn’t want guts to see it. i think he wanted to preserve that relationship.

i think that even if griffith didn’t say it out loud, he genuinely thought of guts as a friend.“you. out of the thousands of comrades, and tens of thousands of enemies… only one. only you, and you alone obscured the vision of my dream.”

i also feel like when griffith slept with the princess, it was to feel something other than the pain of when guts left. it was clearly an impulsive decision and i think he recognized that but wanted to forget, even just for a moment, that the one person he truly cared so much about had left.

the scene where griffith was watching guts and casca talk about guts leaving and how he laid on casca, i think he was afraid of losing both of them. even if he couldn’t stop guts from leaving, if he was played his cards right, casca would stay. i think that was his thought process. i think he was afraid of losing them both.

after that, when the cobblestone path thing came up again, and when he realized he’d lost sight of his dream, i think he thought it was foolish to allow other people to make him lose sight of it. then, the eclipse happened.

It didn't matter if they were in a new setting, The Band of the Hawk was still rowdy, unkempt, and messy.  This could especially be said for the outhouse and dining area. [Name] ended up cleaning those areas more often than not because as she put it, she wasn't going to live like a filthy animal. Judeau and Casca were the only ones who cleaned after themselves, and figured if that's how they wanted to live, let them.

Dressed in the newest sideless surcoat, most popularly known as the "windows of hell", she sighed at the sight before her. Muddy footprints, broken dishes, spilled drinks and leftover food decorated the dining room as dinner just passed. Maybe two hours max to clean it all up? But that was okay, because she knew Griffith would do his rounds with saying goodbye, and had no choice but to leave through the dining room. Any minute now and the man with a face that could launch 1,000 ships would be coming this way.

On all fours, [Name] dipped a sponge into the soapy bucket and began scrubbing at the stained floor. Truth be told, she was more concerned of someone other than Griffith seeing her in such a position and attire. It was obvious that she had taken a pair of scissors and cut her dress significantly shorter than its original length.

[Name] made  sure to listen very VERY closely for footsteps, so that no scares or anything of the sort would happen. So when she heard someone approaching, she prepared her body in the most seductive way possible. 

Griffith almost continued striding forward, until he noticed a person from the corner of his eye. His eyebrow quirked as he eyed [Name]; butt in the air and undergarments showing perfectly. It was actually quite nice.

"Cleaning up after everyone again, are you [Name]?"

With each scrub she made sure to lightly wiggle her hips, "Yeah, if I don't do it, no one else will."

"Let me help you. It'll be much faster with the two of us."

A thin blush aroused on her face; he grabbed an extra sponge, rolling up his sleeves and getting down to the floor next to her.

"No, you shouldn't have to. It's our mess, not yours."

Griffith turned his face to hers, doing his signature silly grin, "It's fine, really. It's my band, so I am partly responsible for this mess too."

Blush still evident, she nodded. With no more objections, the cleaning began. The cleaning process was reduced to half the time that [Name] made full use of. From making slightly extra noise when trying to get out a hard stain, to constantly dropping something on the floor and bending all the way over to pick it up. All the while, never taking notice of the quick and careful glances that were made at her.

"Thank you again, Griffith.

"You're welcome. It was no problem at all."

It wasn't a secret when his eyes scanned her body this time, a thin smile formed on his lips, "By the way, I suggest you change your choice of clothing when cleaning. You wouldn't want any of the members to get the wrong impression of you."

Walking up the stairs of the tower with a single candle, the flames flickered off the wall. Hair down and her long nightgown on, she tried to be as silent as possible.

There was a curfew placed to how long you could stay out in the city without being caught by a night guard walking around. With everyone asleep, it would be no trouble to quickly sneak into Griffith’s library to grab some book to read during her spare time. As much as she did not want to give Griffith nor the band any more bad rep than they already had, these nights sitting away in the barracks were boring.

[Name] knocked softly on the door-- no answer. Good, he wasn’t in there. Looking behind her once more, she opened the door, walking inside. The candle lit up the entire room. Shelves of books that stacked as high as the ceiling, and in the center of it all, an expensive desk with a few sheets of paper on them. She placed the candle unto the desk, running her fingers along the expensive wood. So this is where Griffith strategized new battle plans. No longer did he have to sit in some tent outside.

She stared at the papers on his desk once more, curiosity piquing her interest at what the content of the papers could say. She trekked her fingers over to them, just grazing at them before-

“[Name]? What are you doing up at this hour?”

Once again, Griffith surprised her by his skill of randomly showing up. She didn’t even hear him coming up the steps, nor opening the door. Jumping and almost dropping the candle to the floor, almost blowing out the flame, she tensed up. Relaxing with a deep breath.

She turned to Griffith, who could visibly be seen trying to refrain from laughing, and smiled nervously.

“I just came looking for a book to read.”

Nodding, he took a step closer to her. “I see. And what kind of book were you looking for in particular?”

The light from the candle reflected off of his skin. He was glowing. Not an ounce of fatigue disgraced his eyes and posture; he looked just as lively as during the day. To see it was to believe it. She almost got lost in his warm gaze, before snapping herself out of it.

“Um, romance.”

He nodded once more, moving over to the plethora of books on the shelves. He scanned over a specific area as if he knew exactly what book to grab before an “Ah” came from his lips.

He grabbed the book from the shelf, dusting it off before handing it off to her.

“It’s titled ‘Ecstasy of the Heart’. I hope you don’t mind slow burns, but it is a very good read.”

“Thank you,” she smiled at him the best you could. Hoping that she managed to get that seductive glint in the cheesy smile and didn’t make it look like she was trying much too hard.

Throughout the whole ordeal, he kept up his charming friendly demeanor. Not once did he falter, even offering to walk her back to her room. It might’ve been harder to break out of the friendzone than she anticipated. Or, maybe, he was just a hard man to crack.

He was so close to achieving his dream, to having everything he ever wanted. Griffith could practically feel it grazing his fingertips.  With the success of the Band of the Hawk’s countless victories, not to mention being knighted by The King of Midland himself, everything was finally falling into place. His dream was finally coming to fruition. Just a few more steps to go, and the most important one was marrying the king’s daughter, Princess Charlotte.

It wasn’t a secret. Everyone, including [Name] knew that this was an absolute requirement. It was the only way for him to finally have his own kingdom, and how easy a task it was. From the moment he had met her, she had been charmed and infatuated. All the princess ever thought about was him, just as he planned. He truly was brilliant and had no time for distractions, nor true self-indulgence.

So when [Name] had come to Judeau asking for help to seduce their leader, he was confused. Judeau was aware of her feelings for Griffith, but he was unsure why she thought now was a good time to act on such things, and strongly advised against it. But, he knew her enough to know that she was going to chase Griffith with or without his help.

Griffith and [Name]’s relationship was nothing more than leader-subordinate, no matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise. It didn’t help that Casca shared the same ambition. But that didn’t matter when Griffith’s hand was on her shoulder, praising her for a job well-done, and reminding her that she is of value to him. And that’s all it was. She couldn’t approach him wanting more, especially when she knew they could never truly be.

Lately, with all of these promotions into royalty, Griffith somehow managed to become more unapproachable and distant than usual. He was slipping away, and she was losing her shot at at least having him once. That was her own dream, a pitiful one, yes, but it was hers. And [Name] had to make it happen, before it was too late.

Judeau finally gave in to her request, smirking and letting out a light chuckle before grabbing a piece of paper and quill pen. He jotted things down as [Name] tried peeking over his shoulder to see what it was. When he’d finished, he turned around to face her, arm extended with the paper in hand. “Here,” he started. She did not hesitate to take the paper, eyes quickly scanning over it. “When I was traveling with the circus, there was this girl there. She was an acrobat, fell head over heels for the ringmaster. She said that she followed a series of steps that she got from some book, and claimed it worked for getting him. Luckily, I remembered what they were. I don’t take Griffith as the type to fall for these kinds of tricks, but you can still give it a shot.”