#it is not at all surprising what he did ti Casca

[scumashling]

Griffith always kinda sucked tbh

(which is not to say you can't enjoy or like him as a fictional character but for me the horror of the eclipse lies in the fact that there were always signs he was a power tripping freak who was capable of doing something like that but that his friends, followers and the readers were blindsided by his more admirable and likable qualities + insisting he was manipulated by the Godhand or that "Griffith died to become Femto" misses the point)

[julietsbody]

thirsty — coriolanus + reader : the capitol’s star player, golden boy, coriolanus snow had an odd obsession with the water girl, and what other liquids she could provide for him. 

tags : MDNI! 18+!! soccer ! tbosas au, bimbo ! reader,  squirtingggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!, fingering, pussy play, nicknames (dollface, various barbies, princess), filthy filthy stuff fr, might be a SLIGHTTTT piss kink fic, princess / special treatment, overstimulation, public sex (semi but still), voyeurism 

a / n : AND BOY I I FANTASIZE ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME IF U WERE MINE ID GIVE THIS PUSSY TO U 9-5 5-9 

the heat in panem was enough to dehydrate someone who drinks water daily in seconds, coriolanus waves a clipboard he had taken from casca in front of his face, trying to earn some cool air from it. to nobody’s surprise, the water girl had come bouncing in with your pink kitten heels, short white skirt, and pink tank top that your tits were practically spilling out of. 

your hair was pulled back into some slick back ponytail, with of course, a ribbon tied around the base of the ponytail. you always looked so perfect, makeup barely budging against the strong heat as you came waltzing in. 

you were a fan favorite of the team’s, so sejanus and festus’ heads immediately snap from the soccer ball they they were dribbling to you now. sejanus’ eyes light up immediately, waving to you, “hey!” 

you offer him a barbie - like smile, waving back with your freshly manicured nails, “hihi, sejanus! it’s sooooooo hot.” 

sejanus smiles sweetly as he approaches you, “made sure the water was cold today?” 

he’s teasing you of a time the heat was this bad and you forgot to add ice to the bucket holding the waters. you cried that day, many times. coriolanus found you having a sobbing fit in the hallway, repeating to yourself that you were so stupid. coriolanus was never good with affection, but he gave you a small hug that day, and assured you it didn’t matter at all. 

and when festus called you a dumb bitch for it? 

coriolanus made it his priority to fuck festus up on that field that day, and good lord, he did. 

festus was ushered off with a broken wrist because of a move coriolanus made, and coriolanus was taken off with a red card and a proud smirk on his face. now festus and coriolanus are never allowed on the same field, no matter what. which was good, because festus was a mediocre player, whilst coriolanus has a record for most man of the match’s won. 

you pout at him, “not funny, sej.” 

he chuckles, eyes softening at you as he tips his head in your vision, “‘m jus’ messing with you, sweet girl, water is water regardless of temperature, yeah?” 

sejanus and coriolanus were both always reassuring you, always so sweet with you despite their cold exteriors, despite the fact that they’re the most sought after players, they never let that ego get to them. 

well… sejanus didn’t. 

coriolanus did sometimes. speak of the devil, snow moves to bump into sejanus’ shoulder, offering him a toothy grin with his sharp canines. sejanus glares at him, like he was interrupting something special, “how are you in such a good mood when you were just whining over the heat?” 

coriolanus ignores sejanus’ obvious attempts to embarrass him to impress you, his blue eyes locking onto you with a whistle, “hey, malibu barbie.” 

you playfully roll your eyes at him, “you can’t just call me a different barbie every time you see me.” 

“yeah?” his jaw ticks, eyeing you up and down, god, he loved the way your short skirt rides up your thighs, the way your tits bounce through that practically see - through tank top, “why not?” 

“i don’t like it,” you pout at him. 

sejanus nods along, “yeah, snow, she doesn’t like it.” 

coriolanus sighs at him, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re such a cuck, dude.” 

he smirks at your ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) expression due to his words, truly not understanding what he means by calling sejanus a cuck— was he stopping him from something? 

you blink dumbly at them, and coriolanus only shrugs, turning to stride past a silent festus. 

sejanus scoffs, “can’t believe he gets away with shit like that.” 

you frown at him, “he’s probably having a rough day— or like… ‘m not sure, you know how he is, sej.” 

“yeah, yeah,” sejanus watches as his cleats sink into the grass, “pretty sure he has a huge crush on you, too.” 

ㅤ˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

PANEM 6-2 DISTRICT 2 

as soon as the match was over, coriolanus came up to you, sweat causing his platinum hair to stick to his forehead as he takes a cold water bottle from your hands, fingers brushing against yours. 

he takes a sip from it before leaning in to tower over you, “you saw that bicycle kick?” 

you nod at him excitedly, “i did! you’re soo good, coriolanus.” 

he rolls his tongue along his teeth, “yeah? you think so?” 

you smile sweetly at him with more nods as he walks past to the locker - room, sejanus moving to wrap his arm around coriolanus’ shoulders, to be honest, sejanus should be thanked for coriolanus’ bicycle kick because he’s the reason the ball was even at a level for coriolanus to kick it— but will coriolanus ever admit that? 

of course not! 

in fact, coriolanus doesn’t even think of all his achievements this match even when everyone is patting him on the back, dumping their water bottles on him and leaving him even more drenched than he was before. but with all this water, he just can’t stop thinking of you. 

that expression on your face earlier, plump lips parted in shock, he wonders how well they would wrap around his cock— 

@csnow18 : hey you busy

@csnow18 : ? 

you pluck out your phone as soon as it buzzes, only to see a message from coriolanus, on instagram. he had your number.. why didn’t he… honestly, you knew better than to question him at this point. 

@princess101 : no.. why? 

@csnow18 : im really thirsty 

@princess101 : just gave u water ‎‎໒꒰ྀི -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ꒱ྀིა 

@csnow18 : festus took it from me 

a lie. 

@csnow18 : come to the locker room? 

@princess101 : rolling my eyes at u rn

@princess101 : u owe me 

@princess101 : and stop letting festus take stuff from u!!!!!!!! 

this wasn’t the first time he has lied about festus taking his water bottle just to see you, but it was the first he had different intentions for when he saw you. 

he already knows you’re coming before you’re even there, mostly because he can hear the click! clack! of your heels, but also because of the whistles of the people passing by you. coriolanus hated how people immediately turned to drooling animals when they saw you, it wasn’t of jealousy but rather possessiveness, because can he really blame them? 

his eyes light up when he sees you, pushing his soaked hair back, “tropical splash barbie.” 

you pout at him, putting your hands on your hips, “how do you even know so many barbies?” 

he shrugs simply, “because i see one every day.” 

you sigh, moving to push a water bottle to his chest, “happy?” 

“hey,” he leans in closer, fingers wrapping around the bottle, “why’re you actin’ like that?” 

“‘m not acting like anything,” you lie, “just don’t get thirsty again.” 

as soon as you spin on your heel to walk away, he clicks his tongue disappointedly, “you know… i don’t know if this water is g’na keep me hydrated enough.” 

you blink at the floor, what? what… “what?”

you turn back around to meet his eyes, watching his pupils immediately dilate at the way your skirt barely shows your panties whenever you twirl around, “do you just serve water, princess?” 

you stare at him dumbly, “i don’t get it—“ 

“you don’t?” he takes a step closer, “i see the way you look at me, doll, always watching when i make a goal, cheering me on, purposefully bouncing up and down so your panties show and your tits nearly pop out that shirt.” 

it was true. all so fucking true. the entire team was so, so attractive, especially coriolanus— you don’t ever wear things for men, but the men of panem’s soccer team? your own dress - code is practically the tightest, most slutty clothes ever! 

“i…” you pause, lips shimmering from your lip - gloss, “i do have other juices.” 

his tongue rolls along the inside of his teeth, tights curling upwards ever so slightly, “think i might need those, dollface.” 

you nod at him, “but— not here.” 

he hums, moving to drop the water bottle onto the ground as he leans in closer and closer until his lips are buzzing against your cheek, “yes, here.” 

you can’t help but melt into his touch as he peppers kisses along your face, pecking against your lips until his kisses drop down to run along your neck. your nails rake up his arms ever so gently, “people will catch us..” 

“mm - mm,” he disagrees, “all showerin’, jus’ let me get hydrated, yeah?” 

 he’s quick to move to his knees, smiling whenever he catches a glimpse of you looking around to see if anyone’s coming as his fingers trace along your thighs, lips following along after them. you’re so paranoid, god, for such a dumb slut, you really didn’t want to get caught. 

he hikes your skirt up to catch a glimpse of your panties, pastel red, to match the team’s colors and oh— oh what’s this? on the right side near your hip, it’s his player number, 18, with a heart surrounding it. he gawks up at you, chuckling at the reason for you always wanting to show off your panties, you had already marked him on them. 

you shyly hide your face, trying to ignore him until his finger presses against the wet spot of your panties left by your cunt. you shiver under his touch, “been wet for me all day, hm?” 

you nod at him, fingers moving to faintly cover your mouth, “always wanted you, corio..” 

he presses a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, before hooking a finger on your delicate panties and tugging them down, “you wrote my number on all your panties?” 

you continue nodding, shivering when his fingers lightly graze along your cunt, “mhm.. sej— sej.. is on some, too.” 

“that so? maybe i should get him out here to fuck you, too,” he presses his thumb against your clit, watching your hips buck ever so slightly, lashes fluttering. 

you shake your head, “n-no.. not now— want.. just you.” 

he moves to push your legs apart with his free hand, moving his hand on your clit out of the way so he can finally dive in. his tongue is quick to lick a stripe up your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit and taking it in his mouth to suck on with ease. 

your fingers move to his head, nails threading through his wet hair as you bite on the fingers of your free hand, trying so hard to not make any noise but gosh, the feeling of his mouth on you was just too much. 

his hand runs up your thigh, holding you stable as his mouth completely devours your cunt, not offering you any remorse as your hips jerk against nothing, teeth sinking past layers of your skin to muffle your whines. 

it’s not long before his hand is sliding from your thigh to your cunt as his lips move back up to your clit, ever so slowly sliding two of his fingers inside of your soaked entrance. you took his fingers so well, velvet walls pulsing around flesh and bone, tightening around him like he was a lifeline. 

your grip on his hair immediately becomes lethal, babbling nonsense against your finger, “corio— co..corio… ‘ts too much— ‘m gonna..” 

that was coriolanus’ cue, his fingers immediately curl into you and he starts moving them back and forth so his fingers are repeatedly penetrating that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll back. you tug at his hair as the sounds of his fingers moving inside of you become wet squelching, a familiar feeling washing over you but with a tinge of something different. 

it felt like an orgasm but no— no, it was wetter than an orgasm, because now his hand was completely drenched in your wetness, his lips moved to a part so it could spray into his mouth. it was so, so filthy, the way he gulped it down, and made you squirt again, and again, and again. 

you were like a fountain of nectar that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

you were so fucked out that you didn’t realize you were cuming again until your body is wracked with another orgasm, gushing all over his fingers and into his mouth once more. you whimper above him, silently begging for mercy as he continues to pump his fingers into your overstimulated pussy, “corio— please.. too much— can’t..” 

he licks the remaining juices from his lips as he finally pulls his fingers out, lapping up the cum and other substances dripping off of his skin. he takes a grip of your hips to stabilize you as he stands, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “thank you, dollface, such a good water girl.” 

your lips part to speak but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat. 

your eyes immediately snap to the side, only to find.. 

“sejanus?”  

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 5: The Net

Chapter 28

Marius puts me in a knee-length, sea-green dress with glittering wave patterns sewn on in opalescent sequins. And he gets the six-inch heels back out.

“Nothing but the best for my Tiger Shark,” he says, tying the same complicated pattern as last time.

Like last time, my makeup is simple but my hair complex. Finnick, who is weirdly wearing a very comfy-looking old-school-fisherman-style cable-knit, ties my seashell necklace around my neck.

“What’s yours?” I frown at him in the mirror.

He winks. “It’s a surprise.”

Then Dalia hurries in carrying a briefcase. “I got them!” she pants, grinning at Marius.

“Good. Everyone else?”

Dalia nods eagerly.

A smile splits Marius’s face. “Excellent. Let them see what happens when they try to take our victors.” He takes the briefcase from Dalia, sets it on the table, and pops it open.

“That’s a bold move,” Finnick says. But he leans forward and lets Marius settle the ten-year-old crown on his head. The black metal sits in stark contrast to his lighter hair. He stands a little straighter, and it’s one of those rare moments where he isn’t playing for anyone. Right now, Finnick Odair is just himself, smiling confidently at his reflection.

Marius turns to me next. I don’t know how they did it. They must have snagged them before we left for the reaping, because my crown sits on a desk in the upstairs study. But here it is.

Marius settles it amongst the braids, rearranging a little here and there, before giving me a nod and a real smile.

Behind him, Casca says, “There’s our Tiger Shark.”

Marius moves me to the mirror next to Finnick and even before I can fully see our reflections, I feel my smile growing.

In this moment, I’m not playing for anyone either.

The shining silver flashes in the light as I turn to look at Finnick. “Thank you.” I smile. A real, genuine smile, not to win him over or tease him or get something out of him, but just a smile.

He smiles back and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Dalia is sniffling behind us.

After a minute, we pull apart and look back at her.

“Dalia-” Finnick starts gently.

She lets out a heartbroken sob. “I always thought you would be such a beautiful couple if- if-”

Preps 1 through 3 are crying now too, and two-thirds of Finnick’s prep team.

It almost makes me want to tell her.

“If you both weren’t so stubborn!” Dalia sobs again, then hauls in an enormous, shaky breath. “I’m sorry!” She turns to Marius. “But it’s true and you know it!”

Marius takes a deep breath. Then, in the most human thing I’ve ever seen him do, he hugs her. It seems like a long hug too, but then he lets go very suddenly, and Dalia’s eyes widen.

“Oh.” She looks back at Finnick and me. “Oh.” She nods once, sharply, eyes still full of tears. “Well, I just want you to both know-” The little chime sounds, signaling it’s time for the tributes to line up. Dalia takes another huge breath, steeling herself. She looks at Marius, who shakes his head just the tiniest bit, then she says, “You have always made me smile.” She leaves hurriedly, both of our prep teams trailing behind her in various states of distress.

Marius nods, almost to himself.

Casca clears his throat and says, “You’d better get going. My tributes have never been late for Caesar Flickerman, and I’m not about to start now.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

In the line, word passes up and down of what everyone except Haymitch and Katniss did in their one-on-one with the Gamemakers. We were all true to our word and hilariously harmless. Unbeknownst to each other, Seeder and Cashmere both whistled, but Seeder is terrible and Cashmere can whistle to rival an orchestra.

This year, I try to really listen to the others’ interviews. I remember regretting not knowing Zalea could juggle eight oranges until after she was dead. Now I’m here with friends, and I promise myself I will not go into the arena having missed something like that about one of them.

What I didn’t notice, when we were all lined up backstage in the dimly-lit hallway, is that Finnick and I weren’t the only ones to show up wearing our crowns.

Cashmere is charming and beautiful in a bright copper crown as she sheds a few tears with Caesar, talking about how the people of the Capitol have come to be part of her family, and she will always love them.

Gloss is steadfast and gorgeous with a shining golden crown. He shares his sister’s sentiments, and says he wishes, he will always wish, he could have had more time with his Capitol family, and how it is simply too bad that we, the victors and the citizens of the Capitol, are all going through this horrible tragedy.

Enobaria has a rose gold crown, and she is vicious.

So is Brutus, in a crown so red bronze it looks like blood.

Then comes the first half of Nuts and Volts. Wiress, in a crown I would swear is made of opal, speaks in trailing half-sentences of the injustices of man-made laws.

Beetee follows her, his crown dark like Finnick’s, talking about how the Games could be changed. They’re only man-made, after all.

And then Caesar’s joyous voice calls, “And now, our favorite Tiger Shark, Annie Cresta!”

I pull in a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back to stand as tall as possible, then walk out onto the stage. Already I can tell the crowd is torn between adoring cheers and heartbroken wails. I smile at them, letting it be just tinged with sadness at how much I will miss them.

Caesar gestures me to my chair and perches on the front three inches of his. I follow his lead.

���Tell me, Annie, how is it to be back in the Capitol?”

“Well, Caesar, the cream cheese rolls were waiting in my room and let me tell you,” I pause and smile conspiratorially at him, “I ate them all. Wait, no. I ate all of them that Finnick didn’t. We may have resorted to violence over the cream cheese rolls.”

Caesar and the audience laugh, then Caesar sobers the tiniest bit, though he is still smiling. “But isn’t there a rule that you can’t fight other tributes before you get into the arena? I don’t want you to get in trouble, you know, you are my favorite Tiger Shark.”

Now I laugh. “Caesar, Finnick was my mentor and now he lives across the street from me. We have game night on Thursdays. I think he knows me well enough without us fighting before we get to the arena. Joke’s on him, I know all his secrets too.” I let that hang, hoping Caesar will play along.

As always, he delivers.

“Oh?” He leans forward, eyes alight. “I don’t suppose you’d care to expose one or two of them?”

“Well…” I look around at the crowd and their imploring faces. I grin. “All right!” I lean toward Caesar and stage whisper, “He cheats at marbles and cards.”

Caesar gasps and the crowd howls.

“And he says he can hold his breath for seven minutes, but his record is only six minutes and forty-three seconds.” I take a page from Gloss’s book and pick at one of my fingernails nonchalantly.

“Typical man!” Caesar snorts. “Always exaggerating our abilities, aren’t we!”

“At least you’re self-aware, Caesar!” I laugh.

“Oh, you know me! I’m nothing if not honest with all of you!” He sweeps an arm toward the crowd, who cheer appreciatively.

Caesar sobers substantially as he waits for the crowd to rein themselves in. I’m a little concerned by this, but I don’t let it show.

“Now, Annie,” Caesar says, “District Four has the curious distinction of being one of two districts where a mentor and mentee pair are this year’s tributes. What is it like, knowing that this time tomorrow you’ll be competing against Finnick?”

I laugh. I lean back in my chair and I really laugh. It’s all I can do, in the face of this ridiculous thing. The laugh doesn’t go all the way to my eyes, and I’m glad, because when I turn to Caesar, I see that I have unnerved him, just a bit, just enough to be perceptible.

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” I direct my mirthless shark eyes out toward the audience. “You want us to go in and kill each other. That’s what these Hunger Games are and you all know it. You want me to kill Finnick? Gloss? Cashmere? Johanna? Will you still love me when I kill them?”

When.

The audience is recoiling, leaning back in their chairs like me. But theirs is horror, and mine is calm determination.

“Because I will. I will win.” I turn back to Caesar to see exactly what I hoped to see on his face—this interview has not gone the way he thought it would. I was supposed to be fun. Not tonight. Tonight I am vicious. “I will take them all away from you if this goes on.”

If.

Unprompted, I stand. Then I turn back to Caesar. “Remember, I’m a tiger shark, and you don’t mess with those.” I look directly into the camera, letting my gaze burn into it, then stride to my seat.

For all my confident fury, I can feel myself slipping. I muscle through Finnick’s interview as he recites a poem for his love. About a hundred people in the audience swoon, but it’s for me. It’s for me and I can’t react. The only thing keeping me upright in my chair is the restless tapping of his fingers on his knee. Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me… To anyone but a few of us in Four, it looks like a nervous tic. To me, it is everything.

Johanna is furious in her golden crown and Alvan in his silver crown is disappointed and Katniss is in her wedding dress and then she’s on fire and then she’s a mockingjay, and Haymitch… Haymitch doesn’t use even the front three inches of his chair. He stands and goes on a tirade, biting and sarcastic and whip-smart and he must have practiced it and timed it over and over and over because he finishes by waving an arm at Katniss and practically screaming, “And now you send a pregnant newlywed into the arena?” He throws his arms up in frustration and the gong sounds and he walks to his seat next to Katniss, leaving Caesar in shocked silence, having not said a word for the whole interview, as the audience explodes.

On one of the big screens, I see Katniss grab Haymitch’s hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. With the other, she reaches for Chaff. This is all I need. I lace my fingers between Finnick’s, his hand already stretching toward me. On the other side, I take Beetee’s hand, and before the screens cut to black, I see us, all twenty-four of us, the Capitol’s crowns on our heads, hands linked in a final show of solidarity.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

After they run off us the stage, Finnick beelines for Katniss and Haymitch, dragging me along behind him. Several yards away, Johanna is trying to do the same thing, but we are blocked by technicians and cameramen and the elevator doors close on Haymitch, Katniss, Peeta, and the woman who must be their Casca. Finnick’s head spins around to Johanna. He looks almost lost.

But Johanna shakes her head and shrugs, and Finnick and I end up in an elevator with Nuts and Volts.

Beetee is cleaning his glasses on the hem of his shirt. “It was worth a try,” he says to no one in particular.

“Yeah,” Finnick says.

The doors open on Level Three, and Nuts and Volts exit. The doors close again.

“Do you think Caesar’s tears were real?”

Finnick shakes his head. “He’ll miss us, but he knows good TV. And this is it.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Curled up on the couch watching the interview replay, I glance at Finnick. “You’ll still talk to me when we’re in there, right?”

He snorts. “Of course. We’re allies.”

“I meant-”

“I know what you meant.” He picks at the knot holding my shoe on my foot. “And I will. If I can’t, I’ll get one of our other allies to do it. I’m sure Johanna is full of stories.”

In spite of myself, I laugh. “She’s full of something.”

She’s raving at Caesar in her interview.

“So Johanna, Haymitch, Nuts and Volts… Who else?”

Finnick lets out a long breath. “Katniss. Ten. We’ll see how things play out.” Then he shoots me a grin. “You and me though. Always you and me.”

The broadcast stops when Haymitch reaches his chair, before Katniss can take anyone’s hand. But it’s still a statement. All of us angry, sad, disappointed. All of us in our crowns that were supposed to say we had won and that we were done playing the Hunger Games.

All of us going back to the arena tomorrow.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Mags wakes me up. For a second, I am very confused because this is not my room. It is, however, the couch in the living area, and Finnick is still asleep on the other couch.

Satisfied that I am awake, Mags moves to Finnick as I walk to the table and sit down across from Beck. Finnick yelps, then apologizes. After another minute, he joins us at the table. Marius and Dalia are there too, and we all eat in silence. When we have eaten, we hug all around, then Dalia and Finnick head up to the roof. Marius and I follow them five minutes later.

This time, I know what to expect when the woman in white approaches and asks for my arm. I try not to tense, but it still hurts when she jabs the needle in the muscle below my elbow.

“Tracker 4B is functioning.”

We land deep underground. I follow Marius into the dressing room, where there is a thin gray jumpsuit with some sort of wide belt and a pair of shoes that are thin everywhere except for the hard rubber soles. I have shoes like that at home. They’re designed for gripping wet surfaces.

“No armor,” Marius says. “No thermal. Should be some protection from the sun though. It’s going to be hot in there, if I had to guess.” He puts my hair in two long braids over my shoulders, then ties my seashell necklace on. He nods. “Keep an eye on Finnick. We all know he needs it.” Then he hugs me again. “Good luck in there, Tiger Shark.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“Sixty seconds,” says the voice.

I step onto the platform and the glass tube slides over me.

“Did you tell Dalia?” I feel like I’m shouting, but I need to know.

Marius gives me one last nod, and the platform rises, pushing me up into the unknown.

****

****

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[alovelyburn]

Rambles about the Golden Age Arc Part 10

After that last ramble post, @zombiesgohome pointed out to me that not only does Miura’s three (types of) love interests theory apply to Guts, Casca and Farnese, it also applies to Griffith - Guts is the one he longs for, Casca is the one right by his side, and Charlotte is the one with the money and power. 

It’s interesting really - I don’t really disagree that those are huge romantic archetypes (though I’d add “person of lesser power/money that you can take care of and feel bolstered by”) - but ultimately I don’t think it’s really tied to sex or gender, it’s just broad descriptions of possible romantic relationship dynamics.

Anyway!

Rambles about the Golden Age Arc Part 10

I know it’s not exactly news that the Hawks as a whole really loved Griffith - that’s part of the tragedy of their fate, after all. But recently I was looking over some of the later chapters, e.g. the one where Rickert smacks Griffith in the face, and one thing that comes up with both Rickert and Guts is this separation between Griffith the White Hawk and Griffith the Hawk of Light. Just like Guts struggles to maintain his anger at first because Griffith looks like the old Griffith that he loved and admired and only really goes full feral when it becomes obvious that NeoGriffith is Femto in a Griffith suit (kind of but anyway), Rickert still declares himself a follower of the original, human Griffith even while disavowing the current one.

I’m VERY interested in what’s going to happen with Casca now. She’s the one he hurt the most directly, after all. 

I had somehow forgotten that this took place a month after the queen’s assassination. That kind of puts Guts and Casca’s feelings for each other in the ‘developed offscreen’ category like Griffith and Guts’ relationship as well. I mean this isn’t a soap opera or a romance manga (kinda) so that’s not surprising and I’m not complaining. It’s just that rereading reminded me of the timing and that made a number of things click.

Actually, I’ve been having a lot of “revelations” re: Casca which I’ll get into later, probably... next post? I guess. Anyway.

OKAY SO THERE’S A LOT GOING ON HERE, lets break it up into a few character storylines, some bigger than others.

The Order is:

Corkus -> Casca -> Judeau -> Guts -> Griffith

Basically just for flow. Anyway.

1. Corkus - starting with the one no one cares about. I wrote a big meta about Corkus many years ago but I don’t remember what exactly I said, so let’s just do the nutshell version of my understanding of Corkus.

So, Corkus used to lead a band of thieves, doing his thing, before Griffith showed up and beat him down and then did what Griffith does: he ate Corkus whole, metaphorically. This is both the source of Corkus’s respect and admiration for Griffith and the source of his resentment of Guts, because his ego is contingent on the belief that when someone like Griffith exists all the normal people can do is bow down and submit... and that everyone except Griffith is normal.

That being the case, Guts deciding to become Griffith’s equal and stand beside him is an existential threat to Corkus’s self-image. If Guts can break out and do his own thing and find his own way of living then why couldn’t he? Why did he end up eaten by Griffith’s flames like everyone else? Does that mean Guts is better than him - more special than him? Or does it mean that he, a normal person, gave up his dreams for no reason?

To be clear, I’m not saying he’s going around hating Griffith - on the contrary I do think he loves and admires Griffith just like the others. But his feelings, like many of those in Berserk, are very complicated - that he has this sort of conflict in himself is evident by the way he reacts when Guts asks if he doesn’t have something he wants, too. Some dream of his own. And of course Judeau contextualizes it by explaining Corkus’s past and how he came across Griffith to begin with. But I think the most telling thingS of all are the way he rails against Guts for acting like he’s “the only one walking some path of profound suffering that no one understands. Like you’re the only one who’s special,”  and his rant about how normal (non-Griffith) people have to make due with what they have instead of trying to be winners, basically. His anger reflects his unacknowledged (even by himself) frustration and pain at having been subsumed, and his final declaration - “You can never become Griffith” is an attack on Guts, sure, but it’s just as much reassurance to himself that Griffith is the only special one and anyone who tries to maintain a separation from him is stupid.

Which is why he can’t handle it when Griffith loses that duel. It throws the belief he’s hung onto all these years into doubt, and he’s not ready for that.

NEXT UP.

2. Casca, who I’m doing before Judeau for a reason despite her being the larger character. So here is where obviously you start to really see the way her heart is drifting and her mind is changing. It’s not complete, and she’s still holding onto her love for Griffith - as she says later, she’s reluctant to let herself change because so much of her identity hinges on her devotion to and love for Griffith. But the heart can’t be controlled that way and you can see that change even when Guts makes his latest attempt to cheerlead for Griffith and Casca to get together - the sweatdrop, the feeling to her face like she’s holding something in, or struggling with something.

And obviously just her being there, just her running to get Griffith in the hopes that he can stop Guts from leaving, is evidence of it as well. It wasn’t so long ago that if she saw him leaving she would have rejoiced, but now?  

I’m sure she’s trying to tell herself that she’s upset because she knows Griffith needs him.. Which he does, and I’m sure that’s part of it... but in the end, she wants Guts to stay because she wants Guts there with her. That’s why she seems to feel his departure almost like a physical blow.

But the thing is...

...a lot of people take Casca’s development of feelings for Guts as evidence that her feelings for Griffith weren’t real - I talked about this a few posts ago, like the idea that she loved an idea of him not the real person, which doesn’t work because she knew better than anyone that the idea of him is BS. It kind of comes, I guess, from this thing I see in fandom a lot, One True Syndrome. Like all the fanfiction that insists that the two people in a couple have never loved anyone before, never even understood what love was!!, until they got together. 

It’s romantic but it’s not realistic, and in this case it’s also wrong. Casca herself is actively worried that falling for someone else will make it seem like she didn’t really love Griffith - and even after she gets together with Guts she still struggles with her feelings for Griffith, resulting in her wavering between them during the rescue.

Long story short, I think she just has feelings for both of them, and so it’s hard for her to anchor on one or the other. Ultimately her decision to accept her feelings for Guts - and later her decision to be with Guts - is... genuine, but also circumstantial. The moment she decides to call out to Guts is also the moment she realizes that there’s nothing she can do for Griffith. There’s nothing she can give him... because there’s no room in his heart or his space for anyone but Guts.

 And later, when she’s feeling torn between them again, her two decisions - first to stay with Guts and later to remain with Griffith - are really made for her due to Griffith’s physical state and needs. 

And I mean, Judeau knows that, which is why he keeps trying to get Guts to take off with her, which brings me to...

3. Judeau - So I think the main thing to keep in mind when trying to understand Judeau is that he’s in love with Casca and that really is his primary motivation when giving advice. I assume that’s what he’s referencing in that one melancholic panel where he says there’s no one who never wanted anything -- his love for her, but also his relative normalcy which keeps him from standing out both in general and to Casca herself, who does appear to have a fondness for epic hero types. 

Which brings me to what really comes to mind with Judeau and that is... the parallel between himself and Guts when it comes to the Casca/Griffith situation. Because Judeau loves Casca, but he never really tells her that or tries his own luck with her, he just hangs back and tries to arrange for her to be happy with someone else.  Based on his last thoughts during the Eclipse, I would say it’s because he doesn’t think he’s cool enough - good enough - for her... so he tries to arrange for her to be with someone who would be worthy of her. 

For years, that was really just Griffith... and while he doesn’t seem to try playing matchmaker with Casca and Griffith (presumably because he knows Griffith can’t be with her even if he wanted to) but... even then he tries to mitigate her pain over her one-sided torch. This is why he pulls her aside after the Cave incident to let her know that Griffith was worried about her and considered her vital.

But now there’s a better option: someone she could have. Judeau can see the feelings developing between them, and there’s no princess in the way with Guts. There’s no big dream. And Guts is leaving, which Judeau clearly thinks would be best for Casca as well, since being near Griffith almost inevitably means she devotes herself to him regardless of how destructive it may be for her. So...

He’s trying to set up that better option for her.

And that’s really interesting to me because it’s obviously exactly the way Guts reacted to the Promrose speech + Cave interlude. Which leads me into...

4. Guts - who, by all rights, should be a “save the best for last” but it flows too well from Judeau to resist. 

So, as Griffith’s speech works its toxic magic on Guts’ already tenuous sense of security, he begins to see himself as unworthy of standing with Griffith and thus drawing back. Meanwhile, Casca’s story, her dream of being Griffith’s sword, makes her more worthy of Griffith in his eyes.... thus he does exactly what Judeau is doing: he tries to set up Griffith with someone who is better for him than Guts himself.

I just think that’s incredibly interesting, and I don’t think he’s setting them up because he loves Casca and wants her to be happy because... it started before he had any real substantial fondness for her. Of course at this point, after all that’s happened with her, he is drawn to her. But those feelings - his feelings for Casca and Casca’s for him alike... they’re real. But they also formed in the void they felt in Griffith’s absence, starting from the platform at the bottom of the stairs where they stood side by side, looking up at the one they wanted to be near but couldn’t reach.

As of now, though, Guts has already decided that Casca is worthy of Griffith... which means implicitly that she also needs someone like Griffith to be worthy of her. 

And I mean, look he obviously didn’t leave because he wanted to win Casca - he really thought Casca and Griffith would end up together. But it does seem that once Judeau made him aware that Casca’s chances with Griffith aren’t... great, that kind of jogged his head up and made him look at the thoughts about her that he had left unacknowledged.

Which brings us to the big event of this group of chapters, obviously...

This duel is really where everything goes wrong, and the misunderstanding between these two is honestly just horrifying and painful. Each of them are mired in their own issues so deeply they can’t see what’s right in front of them - especially in Guts’ case, because honestly how does he not know Griffith loves and values him as a person - the only person he doesn’t need a reason to risk his life for. A lot of the time when I see this situation described in say synopses or discussions, people talk about it as though Guts really wants to leave the Hawks and feels stifled by Griffith’s dream, but really... he doesn’t want to leave. He’s leaving entirely because it’s the only way to get what he really wants, which is to stand beside Griffith. 

And you can see in his thoughts how little he understands Griffith’s feelings for him. Like so:

“Your confidence in me as your soldier is vanishing into thin air.” 

To Guts’ mind, Griffith is upset that he’s losing his best soldier. Like a lot of fandom thinks, but this has been disproven time and time again - even with Guts’ own words back during the “do I need a reason” scene. And in his own internal monologue in a moment we’ll see that Griffith isn’t thinking about his battle utility at all. 

But Guts can’t see that. He sees Griffith’s ongoing mental breakdown as evidence of resentment. He knows Griffith doesn’t want him to leave, sure, but he doesn’t have any idea of how much or why. And also? The only reason Guts is willing to physically fight Griffith for his independence... is because Griffith specifically said that's what he wanted someone to do in order to be his friend. 

He took Griffith’s words to heart and is trying to fit that mold, do the things Griffith needs, but the sad thing is that when it comes to this kind of topic, Griffith is mostly full of shit and lying to everyone including himself.

But it gets worse - Guts takes Griffith’s attempt to physically bar him from leaving as a good sign - it shows that he still has some value in Griffith’s eyes... which is all he’s really looking for, so of course he can’t relent.

And the thing is, his choice not to explain himself to Griffith is... I guess inevitable? It’s not like he’s hiding his reasons in general - Casca knows through implication, and he outright told Judeau and Corkus. I’m sure if Griffith weren’t there, he would have explained himself to Rickert and Pippin too. It’s only Griffith he has to hide it from, and why?

If you’re trying to be cool in front of someone, you can’t tell them you’re trying to be cool for them, it ruins the effect. He’s trying to do what Griffith wants, and Griffith said he wanted someone who lived for himself. Saying he’s living for himself for Griffith doesn’t really sound right, does it?

So he’s quiet about it. But the sad thing is, that resolve in his face - the steely determination and commitment to his path that Griffith sees as a fervent desire to get away from him is, of course, the opposite thing entirely. 

And then finally....

5. Griffith - Anyway, the second Guts says yes he’s leaving, Griffith’s visibly goes into full panic and he never comes down from it. In fact, I would argue this scene is where the Griffith we knew until this point disappears. Because from here until the torture dungeon he’s barely functioning (mentally) and then after that he’s broken... and after that he’s Femto. So... you could say Guts’ swordstrike is a deathblow to the Griffith he knew, and we knew, until this point.

Now, I’m going to say this again: I think if you don’t believe Griffith is literally in love with Guts you’re just wrong. I don’t... say that very often about interpretations but I do think this is pretty explicit. And this is relevant because there’s this fantastic post by @strugglewithlonging that goes over the internal mechanics of Griffith’s loss and it hinges on the understanding that Griffith loves Guts, which he absolutely does. 

Post on the Duel!

The duel has always been something I struggled with... because I suck at visual interpretation (although I’m making an effort to improve). It just seemed odd to me that Miura made a point of saying that they’re evenly matched and then had Guts win this completely one-sided battle so decisively. For a long time I just figured it was about Griffith’s bad footing and emotional instability, but it was THAT POST that made me realize that Griffith is actually not attacking at the angle or in the way that his strategy demanded. In short, they’re evenly matched, but Guts is determined and committed to his course of action... while Griffith completely lacks the ability to truly risk Guts’ life.

And this is pretty... consistent, right? Because he lets Guts get away in the Eclipse - he reaches out as Femto with the intention of crushing him but then just. Doesn’t. And ever since then, with the minor exception of the Black Swordsman arc when he defended himself from a blow to his head and ended up knocking Guts into the floor), he has never actually struck at or raised a hand against Guts, ever. I know a lot of people consider that an issue of Femto/NeoGriffith thinking Guts is beneath him... but he doesn’t? He went all the way to the Hill of Swords to see him because he knew there was a chance his feelings could be a confounding variable. In his Femto form he says a lot of shit, but that’s just Femto talking smack specifically to upset Guts, which is obvious but also mentioned in the guide book. 

In any case, it’s a perfect storm of awful that leads us to this point. It’s Guts asking Griffith why he would risk his own life for a soldier, Griffith all but admitting that Guts isn’t just a soldier to him, and how that made Guts feel. It’s Guts overhearing that speech at all, much less when he is in an incredibly vulnerable mindset from the incident with Julius and Son. It’s Casca falling off that cliff and ending up in a cave where she tells Guts about her dream of being with Griffith. It’s multiple assassination attempts on Grififth that forced him to bring Guts into his confidence and show his dark side - the part of him that he hates and tries to keep from the world. The part that leaves him shaking and self-harming, that he thinks no one could accept. And it’s Griffith asking “Do you think I’m cruel?”* and Guts trying to be supportive by essentially saying yes by omission - even though that’s certainly not what he meant to say.

....I’m also going to interject here and note that the actual Japanese says something more like “Do you think I’m a deplorable/terrible/disgusting person” as I recall. Which makes his insecurity even more obvious and is more in line with his question to Casca re: being dirty.

And this is all so important because Guts was always able to see that side of him without flinching, or turning away... and that’s what lets Griffith start to unclench a little at a time - which is obviously not easy for him as he himself tells Guts - 

Guts is his haven. That’s the thing. He’s not just Griffith’s best soldier, or even just Griffith’s only friend. He’s not even just the man Griffith obviously loves. I mean... obviously. He’s also Griffith’s only safe harbor. He’s the support system Griffith has always denied himself, going back to that river when he carved up his own arms after selling himself to a pedophile and then swallowed down his distress to support Casca instead. 

And now that support system is leaving - didn’t even bother to say goodbye! - and his lack of explanation will obviously lead Griffith to one conclusion: Guts is trying to get away from him. So... yes, Guts thinks he’s a disgusting person, a cruel person, and even if he figures it’s inevitable that Griffith will be that way to pursue his goals, that doesn’t mean he wants to be there for it, or involved in it. That’s what Griffith hears, even though Guts totally did not say that. Even though what Guts actually thinks of Griffith is... very different. 

And it’s sad because they both want the best for each other and they both want to be near each other, but the skew in their perception is evident. So evident that when they think back to the beginning of their relationship...

Guts sees Griffith fighting to obtain a soldier, and Griffith sees the first time he ever opened up to someone.

Ouch.

Now, before I go (despite only covering two chapters, I don’t even know), here’s a pretty explicit parallel that reveals how Guts thinks Griffith sees him:

Just a rock on the side of Griffith’s path - something he didn’t care about, but was willing to use to his own advantage... just like he’s done before, right?

But, of course, it wasn’t true then, either. 

Til next time!

OOOH IM PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN BERSERK TAG nothing happens there anyway but at least I haven’t seen a lot of batshittery like there was back in the day so we’ll see.