#what if griffith was a woman

[ladygriffith]

female Griffith

[frogs-in3-hills]

watched a popular video about berserk this morning., regretted it

[cosmicrhetoric]

the problem with reading berserk and going "ok yeah i think that was actually too much for me. like i went in with clear eyes and thought i could handle it but maybe that was too much. no shame in tapping out" is that i keep remembering parts of it that were genuinely awesome and then getting hit with the memory of like. well. iykyk and then i feel so so so so conflicted about the work as a whole that i immediately get a stomach ache

[scorchedhearth]

a lot of things could be fixed by making casca a butch. the rest of the issues could be fixed by making her a protagonist before a girl

[halfrican-heat]

“I’m an All-American white man and I need the right mother figure to raise my child(ren). Preferably old and maternal or young and fuckable.”

[lanadelreyvisualaesthetics]

Stars in my eyes, hiking up Griffith Thinking about who was sad and what didn't Get said in the Midwest, wish I could tell you now I wrote you a note, but I didn't send it 'Cause that's the best method the women here taught me about What you don't really understand I've got magic in my hand, stars in my eyes I'm a different kind of woman If you want some basic bitch go to the Beverly Center and find her I'm sweet

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Tippi Hedren (The Birds)— Those eyes are so expressive and sly, and her cheekbones are fantastic! I might adore Hitchcock’s work but I will NEVER forgive him for his treatment of her and his sabotaging of her career, when she should have been one of the premier leading ladies of the decade

Shirley Jones (The Music Man, Oklahoma, Carousel)— My genuine gay awakening was when she sings about swearing off men surrounded by women in their undergarments (in the musical Oklahoma). She has a sweet, wholesome face that makes me want to live out my cottagecore dreams with her.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Shirley Jones propaganda:

Okay, yes, I'm nominating her purely for The Music Man. She can dance, her singing is incredible, and she's my favorite fictional librarian! And she was Miss Pittsburgh in 1952, which counts for something, right?

Gorgeous and what a voice! the american Julie Andrews

Just the most wholesome woman in show bizz, was in some of the best musicals of the 50s.

Darling soprano of Golden Age movie musicals! She's charming in Oklahoma!, absolutely heartbreaking in Carousel, and such a wonderful Marion the librarian. She has such a lovely presence and a very sweet voice!

Tippi Hedren propaganda:

This beautiful lady was woman enough to ruin her career rebuffing advances by Hitchcock. Also the mother of Melanie Griffith and grandmother of Dakota Johnson.

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

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

𝖈𝖜: dubcon, mild sexual tension, implied stalking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Griffith…..I-”

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

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

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

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

“Is there something wrong?” your partner asked.

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

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

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

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

“Ah! Yes, yes I am. However….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure!” you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Griffith.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” you stood up for yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, suck.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“Mmmmhhh! Mmmmhhhh!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmmmmhhhh~”

“Go on.”

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

“Gri…..ffith….”

“Hm?”

“Do it again…..please….”

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

“Ooooooooohhhh~”

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

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

“Agh! It burns, help!” you protested.

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

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

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

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

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

“Griffith…..I’m gonna….”

This was a sign that urged Griffith to pull away.

“Hold it off.” Griffith commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not inside….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did well, my love.”

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

[dollwrites]

the brainworms are brainworming soo… let’s talk about how possessive king!Griffith becomes over his queen.

ivory veils crafted from silk. parasols that catch the white rose petals the commoners rain down upon you. headpieces adorned with pure, white wings whose span careens around from the back of your head to spread across the bridge of your nose. your own kingdom’s population have never been allowed to gaze upon your countenance ( and you, in turn, never able to know what your subjects look like as their eyes gleam with awe at the king and his queen ) — only the lowest quarter on rare occasion. your soft lips as they curve to form the syllables of his name in a whisper before he juts his left shoulder into view, concealing you behind the glittering silver of his armor.

not even inside the palace walls are you permitted to be perceived. you are to hold on to one of his hands with both of yours, allow your husband to be your sight and guide you through seemingly endless corridors. each step you take, you count. you know how many it takes to reach each room in your palace, though you rarely see its magnificence for yourself. once inside the destination, your ladies in waiting as well as royal guard must leave the bedchambers before Griffith will run his willowy finger along the shape of your jaw. “Closed?” you know what the inquiry means, and you close your eyes behind their shield, before giving a subtle and obedient nod. the gentle tilt upwards, as his svelte digits slip beneath your eye covering, lifting it slowly, so as not to shock the delicate gems he keeps hidden away in darkness all day. “Slowly now, my pet.” he murmurs, the once rough pad of his fingertip feeling soft and delicate as it traces your temple, over your cheekbone, and down to your lips.

you are eager to see, but you allow your eyelids to flutter for a few beats before you open them. your vision restored, you glance around the familiar environment. the only room in your own home that you’d truly recognized.

“Very good girl. Take a moment to gather your bearings.”

you look around for a moment— take in the atmosphere. dim candles cast a warm, orange glow on the bed of silken sheets and on the man who sits in front of you upon them. “My love,” you utter, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as they flit upwards to catch his visage within them. he was as stunning as ever, with striking icy eyes and hair as soft and silver as the moon’s glow. “Why must I always hide myself?” it seemed almost disproportionate. if anything, it would be Griffith’s unearthly beauty worth concealing.

Griffith watches you with a stoic expression for a moment, his pout etching upwards into the ghost of a smirk that most would’ve missed. “You are mine, sweetling. As are the people of this kingdom. Every stone, every drop of rain, every blade of grass in this domain. But you are far more precious than any of those.” Griffith’s sapphire eyes seem to darken ever slightly, before he traces the shape of your lips, staring at them for a long moment. after a breath, they flicker back up and lock on to yours. “These eyes are priceless gems, finer than any that have ever been mined. And no man, woman, or child shall look upon them except for your king. They will never tear up, they will never glare. These eyes will only ever gaze up at me with desire and devotion. Your king. Your savior.”

[ladygriffith]

female Griffith AI art experiment

I don't own anything.

I imagine she would be way prettier but thanks to ai hotpot.

[justplainlovely]

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?”

Based on a season 2 idea by @faembrosia. This did not turn out how I expected at all, but I enjoyed writing it anyway! Will probably become part of a longer fic in the future, paired with another idea I saw on here that I already have an outline for. Let me know if you like it and if you do I’d be happy to continue.

After leaving the observatory, Cooper decides that Lucy needs to break. He’s been there before and it’s better she do it now than on the trail with the most dangerous critters in the wasteland.

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.

WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, blood lust

Count: 4,696 words

Cooper books it on the old 210, Dogmeat trotting along like the faithful canine she is... well, maybe not faithful. She stops every few minutes now to whine at the person taking up the rear. Behind him, the vaultie huffs and puffs as the sun begins to set. Useless smoothskins. Can't keep up for shit. Especially no okie-dokie-ass vault dweller. 

They moved nonstop from the Griffith at the crack of dawn. They had to. Coop was more preoccupied with tryin' to get away from the Brotherhood of Steel than he was in worrying about the current stamina of the woman a few paces behind him. It was his fault, of course, for mercing every one of them tin-can soldier boys and he knew they wouldn't take too kindly to anyone taking out their "well-protected", T-60-wearing knights, much less a ghoul. Much less the Ghoul. He grinned at the thought, imagining the mess that'd ensue if they did find him. Some sick part of him wished they would just for the thrill of a fight. Unfortunately, his ammo supply was cut in half during the shootout. He would have stocked up with what was leftover of the NCR’s stockpile, but timing necessitated a quick departure.

As he walks, Cooper's mind drifts back to his own struggles. He remembers the pain of his transformation, the loss of his daughter, and the desperate measures he took to survive. The memory of his cremello stallion, Sugarfoot, and the harsh decision took to end its life still lingered, a burning reminder of the rad-riddled earth he stalks.

He recalled escaping with his daughter on the horse, wrapping Janey's mouth and nose with the yellow handkerchief around his neck in the hopes that it would keep the particles away from her. That bomb was so close, and if protecting her was his one mistake, then he was happy to make it. He would make it again if it meant saving her from his fate. Of course, those times had worse pains than the idea of her succumbing. Being ripped away from her, being blocked from the Vault-Tec doors as his sweet baby girl shouted for her daddy, as she begged her mommy, was possibly the single worst heartbreaking moment of his life.

Cooper jolts to the present when he notices, out of the corner of his eye, that Lucy is now struggling to keep up. Her pace is slowing, and he can see the strain on her face as the sun dips lower into the sky. They were getting close enough, now, to Big Dalton Canyon and he knew those Brotherhood men wouldn't trek out this far. The array of radiated critters alone was enough to keep them at bay… radiated. Watching Lucy struggle with the rads was an aching reminder his own curse.

“Sir?"

Cooper's reverie is broken by Lucy's weak voice. He sighs and turns to face her.

"Sir... can we... can we stop... please… I’m…" she pauses, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. She should be right to look at him that way. Perhaps he had finally killed that too-trusting, too-green, sweet-as-pie thing she had going on. Then again… wasn’t that why he invited her along?

“I can’t…” she panted, “I..."

Cooper surveys the perimeter, spotting the tin roof of what was an old fire station just outside the trail. He looks back to the young woman, a sickly sheen across her forehead and the whites of her eyes bloodshot. He had been sharing with her whatever water and food he had, but the rads in the water were no doubt doing a number on her. It was why he didn't let her have much of it. He has exactly two bags of RadAway on him and they’ll likely need to use one before her symptoms get any worse. 

“Havin’ trouble keepin’ up, huh?” he says with a stupid smirk as he moves into her space.

Lucy frowns and shakes her head, "Sorry, sir. I... I know you're in a hurry... we're in a hurry... but... I…"

Before she can completely fall, Cooper moves fast and catches her by the waist. Dogmeat whines, licking Lucy's limp hand and sniffing the air for trouble. The shepard looks up at Cooper with those big ol’ puppy dog eyes.

“The fuck you lookin’ at me for? Scan.”

The dog immediately goes to work, her nose pressed to the ground as she scans the area for any signs of life. She barks and wags her tail, ears perked up, which he takes as a good sign. As he adjusts the vault dweller into his arms, he considers continuing further up the trail. The last time he traveled out this way there was a shack not far, perhaps 10 miles, from the mouth of Big Dalton. He can make it, for sure, but can she? Maybe. Only maybe. The risky part of going back down to the fire station’s the sheer size of the building. Anyone could be in there and it wouldn’t be smart for him to get ambushed while carrying 130-pound, radsick baggage. He sighs.

“C’mon, Dogmeat.” 

The dog lopes alongside him as he heads for the shack. Sure it’ll be a journey, but it beats the possibility of whatever could be there. Rad sickness be damned. He isn’t gonna get held up when he’s gotten this far. When he’s so close to the possibility of seeing his little girl again. He knows, staring down at the vault dweller in his arms as he goes deeper into the trail, that this is what Janey would want. What Barb would’ve done… if he knew her like he thought he did.

Though he dares not admit it aloud, he has a great deal of respect for the young woman he carries. Giving him those vials back at the Super Duper Mart when she so easily, and so justly, coulda shot his ass on sight and left him in the dirt in his puddle of drool and blood… she was not pretending when she professed the golden rule. And although it would get her into all kinds of trouble out here, does get her into all kinds of trouble out here, it’s almost a comfort to know that things aren’t completely lost. That some of the good from the old world still survives in her, even if it had vanished from everyone else.

────୨ৎ────

Lucy starts awake, her eyelids heavy as she registers her surroundings. She feels incredibly dizzy as it all floods back to her; the observatory, the murderous Hank MacLean, the Ghoul standing in the setting sun, Maximus on the ground, made unconscious by her father’s hand. The radiation sickness is enough, but she feels sick all over again just thinking about it. She had never felt so useless before. It wasn’t her thing. Back home, she was an enthusiastic, hard-working community member with a dedication to team building and tenacity that put even the oldest vault dwellers to shame. She was lauded, applauded - confident, intelligent, and kind. 

Up here, on the surface, these things mattered little and she found that out the hard way. Many times. She had several near-death experiences; fiends, ghouls, radroaches. She was also used as bait, had her finger cut off, was tied up and lassoed like an animal, and was sold to an organ dealership, all by the man… ghoul she was currently traveling with. Was she stupid for following him? For trusting again? Some part of her knows he’s right. 

Max’s friend Thaddeus had said that the Brotherhood of Steel was a “complicated organization”. By surface standards, she took that to mean that they were willing to do anything for their mission and, not knowing herself exactly what that mission was, she wasn’t so keen on finding out what would happen if she stayed behind. Part of her also wonders what her company had to say about her father. What unsettling secrets will come to light when he decides she’s ready to hear the information. 

At least when she travels with the Ghoul she has an idea of what to expect. Cruelty, snide remarks, sarcasm, belittling. But also honesty. He had never lied to her, at least, and that could be said for something. Her whole life had been a lie up until that point. But even though she has this, she still feels hollow.

She blinks rapidly when she hears the tiny screech of a critter, probably a roach, outside that brings her back to reality. A pinch in her arm that she looks down to follow to a drip bag of RadAway, a cough outside before she hears his inhaler puff. She peeks through the door of what she assesses as some kind of shack she sits in, a twin bed crammed in the corner with a rusted-out sink, no doubt useless, right beside it. Just outside the door, she sees the Ghoul toss a radroach into a battered can that sits in the middle of a fire he’d stoked. Lucy tries to get up from the bed, only for her foot to wobble underneath the weight of her leg. She falls back down, her eyes fluttering shut angrily, “Fudge…”

She wishes she could get up and help - prove herself, distract herself - but her legs are as strong as a fresh jello cake and she knows getting up would only cause more fuss. Better let him focus, as he had already wasted enough time taking care of her. 

The sweet shepherd scampers into the shack and sniffs at her RadAway drip sight, panting and whining happily when she realizes she’s okay. Lucy involuntarily smiles when the dog rests her head on her thigh and she gives the dog, which he called Dogmeat - an ugly name if she said so herself - a gentle pat on the head.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The Ghoul opens the door fully and eyes her with that curious tilt she was all too accustomed to. However, she can’t quite tell if he’s studying her, mocking her, or trying to measure her up for dinner in case she gets sick again. She figures it best not to dwell on the “what-ifs” of this particular scenario.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

He raises a non existent eyebrow at her statement before taking another few steps forward. Dogmeat retreats to the other side of the shack, where a decrepit rocking chair sits on the other side of the rusted out sink, while the Ghoul lifts up the RadAway bag to inspect it, “Don’t mention it, darlin’.”

It’s almost empty, about a quarter of the way, when he decides she’s had enough and not so gently pulls the needle out of her forearm. 

“Ow!” She winces at the pressure and yanks her arm away. 

He smirks as she moves her hand to the hem of her tank, tucked below the top of her vault suit which had been tied at her waist, and tears off a strip. She ties it around her arm to cut the bleeding, all the while avoiding his eyes.

“Gotta ration these,” he says, lifting the RadAway bag, “It’ll be a few days 'fore we get to the nearest settlement. I ain’t got no real use for 'em, obviously. Woulda sold 'em, had ya stayed with yer lil white knight. Didn’t expect you’d be foolhardy enough to come with.”

Lucy scoffs, “You know… I didn’t exactly follow you for your astounding moral character or anything, so you can just…” she stops, thinking better of it. 

She wants to dig into him, to ‘tear him a new one’ as he might do to her, but stops herself. Her upbringing prevents her from that kind of vulgarity. Better yet, it’s best not to anger him when he so clearly holds the reigns in this situation. He could have easily left her to fend for herself after she fainted and she’s honestly not sure why he’d even bother to take care of her. She shakes her head in dismissal.

“‘I can just’ what, darlin’? C’mon now. Y’ain’t said much of nothin’ since we left the Griffith. Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

She has many questions. So many. How does you know my father? How can you track down people like this when there’s little physical evidence of them? You're looking for a family - how did you lose them if you're so good at this? When exactly did you turn into… what you are? Why are you such a son of a biscuit? Why does you look so familiar? He must decide that she takes too long, because then he brushes her off with one of his little grunts.

“Well,” he shrugs with a clap of his gloved hands, “the rad roach’ll be ready in a jiff. I usually don’t bother roastin’ ‘em, but with your smoothskin stomach ’n’ all… can’t be too careful.”

Lucy watches as he steps back outside and while she is not looking forward to their rad roach dinner she knows it beats the alternative. She noticed earlier he still had some of that “ass jerky” left and would rather nom the radiated soil on the ground than stoop to cannibalism. She’s not him yet. Not if she has anything to say about it. Though, the more she dwells on her vault upbringing, the more she thinks about her father and about what she told Max, the more she questions whether her vault’s existence, whether Reclamation Day, was a sham to begin with. And if it was, if it is… then what does that all mean for her? What does it leave her with?

She doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to become emotional on top of being the useless “vaultie" the Ghoul no doubt thinks she is. Lucy takes one cautious step off the earthy-smelling bed, Dogmeat crawls to her side from the other corner of the shack. The canine whines up at her and she gently scratches her behind the ears, earning a thump from her hind leg.

“Aww,” Lucy coos, “Do you like that, sweet canis familiaris?”

“Fuck kinda nerd speak is that?” Lucy turns her head to see him offering her a skewer stacked with meat. She cautiously accepts the offer, “‘Canis familiaris’"…  Why, darlin’, were you some kinda scientist down in them vaults?”

He takes a big bite of his meat and she blearily looks down at hers. 

Lucy scoffs, “I was a history teacher, thank you very much,” she takes a wary bite of the rad roach meat, grimacing when the robust, sticky taste hits her all at once, “All vault dwellers are given a thorough education of all subjects.”

He grunts, taking another bite of his roach flesh and tossing a piece to Dogmeat, who hungrily laps it up. Lucy’s tempted to throw her whole skewer down to the dog, but decides against it. The food will, hopefully, help to ease her stomach. Hopefully keep her occupied enough that she won’t think of all that she’s been through. That she won’t have to speak too much to the ghoul across from her and risk her already fragile grasp on sanity. He’s proven thus far to be an absolutely frustrating travel companion, if she could even call him such a thing. He was more like a reluctant guide.

And yet...

“Sweetheart?” he sing-speaks, breaking through her reverie, “Ya just gonna stare through me like that, or are ya gonna finish your meat?”

Lucy shakes her head. “Here,” she says, holding out the skewer, “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

The Ghoul glances down at her hand, then her eyes, before reaching out and taking back the flesh he’d procured. She felt bad for only eating half of it, she was thin enough as it was, but she simply couldn’t stomach another bite. It wasn’t the worst thing she had put in her mouth on the surface by far, but one more bite and all of it would be on the floor.

He drops the rest of her meat onto the ground where Dogmeat feasts. Lucy turns her eyes to avoid the sight, suddenly feeling more queasy than she already was. She hears him set the now empty skewers on a hook and, out of the corner of her eye, catches sight of his hand going to his belt buckle and scrambles for the corner.

“Relax, won’t ya? Just gonna go take care of that fire.”

He turns around and heads in the direction of the fire pit he’d crafted - putting it out, as he said. Perhaps he isn’t all bad. Gruff, crude, disgusting at times, but not completely evil. She hopes her assessment isn’t off, hopes that she’s not completely “foolhardy” in deciding to follow him, even if he is her best shot at her father. She suspects he invited her for a similar reason.

────୨ৎ────

The following days had Cooper trudging them further east. The first day had seen them making it up to Nealey’s Corner where they slept outside, taking shifts to watch the camp. He’d gone first, letting the girl get some rest. It seemed to be all she could do these days; fulfill the basic biological functions, as she might say. He understood well, better than anyone, probably, what she was currently going through. He went through much of the same with Barb when he heard her speak about the bombs, so casually suggesting in that Vault-Tec meeting with those morally bankrupt higher-ups that they drop them to ensure results. To guarantee that the end of the world was in their control. He remembered how cold he felt then and the rage that swallowed him up in the time following… and this little killer hadn’t even had her blow up yet. He’d have to make sure to fix that.

The second day was met with more silence. She stayed glued to his side, standing at attention only when the wasteland greeted them with vile little critters looking for a meal, mostly rad scorpions and serpents in these parts, but they would reach the Mojave outpost in another four days, the Long 15 in a little over two, and it was crucial that she get over whatever the fuck she was going through before they get to deathclaw territory. She could hold her own against the scorpions and serpents, sure, but what they were soon coming up against was another beast entirely that had even ghouls like him frightened out of their wits.

That night, they set up camp in what seemed a long-since abandoned mechanic’s shop outside Summit Terrace, miles ahead of the Long 15. They roasted some rad scorp meat for dinner as Dogmeat crunched on a radroach just outside their temporary shelter, tail swishing through the soil. Cooper put out the fire with a dirt kick just as Lucy had taken the skewers off the now extinguished pit. They ate in silence, the crunch of the dog gnawing on grubs the only sound cutting through. Cooper gnawed on a skewer absentmindedly, eyes flicking between Lucy and the darkened wasteland outside. Even the mutt seemed to sense the tension.

It had been too long like this—Lucy, silent and sullen, her gaze distant. She followed orders, killed when necessary, but something was off. Cooper could see it in the way her hands shook, how her eyes would glaze over whenever her ghosts crept up on her. The kid was slipping, losing her edge, and they were running out of time before deathclaw territory swallowed them whole. He wasn’t about to drag dead weight.

He takes another bite and eyes her, deciding it's time to poke the hornet's nest.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s lost their fire,” he drawls, breaking the silence with a forced grin, “How's it hangin', lil’ Miss Sunshine? You done with your vow of silence yet?”

Lucy doesn’t respond. She just stares at the snuffed out fire pit, her eyes dim, the muscles in her jaw twitching.

Cooper scoffs, tossing his now empty skewer aside. “C’mon, kid,” he grins, “Where’s that Vault-Tec initiative? Y’ain’t gonna make it to the Long 15 like this. Didn’t ol’ daddy MacLean raise you better?”

Still nothing. Her fingers tighten around the skewer she's holding, but her eyes don’t lift.

The ghoul leans back against the rusted bench and smirks, stretching his legs out. “Ah, I see,” he says with a chuckle. “You're missin’ your knight in shinin’ armor. That it? Can’t handle this big ol’ world without someone holdin’ yer hand, huh? I bet he’d have a good laugh seein’ you like this.”

That got her. Lucy’s eyes flick up, a flash of fire in them, but she chews her cheek and says nothing. Cooper grins, sensing the crack in her armor.

“There y’are,” he says, his tone sharper. “Look at you. All that Vault-Tec trainin' and you could barely handle a few rad scorps.”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, voice lowering. “'Haps you’re scared. Just a lil thing out of her depth... ’S’that it, sweetheart? Ya know I'd be happy to hold your hand...”

Her grip on the skewer tightens, knuckles going white. She still doesn’t speak, but Cooper can see the cracks multiplying. Good. He needed to push harder. Just one more—

“Or maybe…” he let the words drag out, his grin fading. “you’re afraid of becoming just like him. Destroying everything in your path, just like he did. Is that what’s eatin’ at ya, sugar? Are ya scared you’re turnin’ into him?”

The skewer snaps in her hand, and Lucy's on her feet, glaring at him with eyes full of rage.

“Shut up.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Cooper cheers, his grin widening as he stands slowly, wiping dirt off his gloved hands. “Finally, that spunk! Tell me I’m wrong. Or better yet, show me.”

Lucy’s hands tremble at her sides, her breath coming fast, her face twisting in fury. “I said - be quiet!”

“You’re almost there,” Cooper taunts, stepping toward her. “Go ahead, pumpkin, let it out. We both know you need this. You’re angry, and that’s good. But if you don’t deal with it now, it’ll get ya killed. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Stop it!” Lucy’s voice cracks, and she shoves him hard in the chest. Cooper stumbles back but catches himself, laughing darkly.

“Yeehaw!” he shouted, stepping right back into her face. “You wanna fight? Then fight. Prove to me you’re more than a useless vaultie.”

That's all it takes. Lucy roars, tackling him to the ground, fists flying. Yes! Cooper quickly flips them over so she’s on her back, but it isn’t for long. She’s flexible, something he wasn’t aware of. She turns at the waist, legs wrap against his side, and she throws him off seamlessly. Lucy’s onto her feet and he grins, jumping up to his. 

"Ooo…" Cooper tosses off the tattered remnants of his duster and grins, “Kitty got claws!”

She screams, pushing him back up against the rusted remains of an Oldsmobile. He unsheathes his hunting knife, not with the intent to use it, and grazes her collarbone, exercising the softest pressure. Dogmeat takes interest now, whining at the pair of them, but Cooper shoos her away with the wave of his hand. 

The distraction is enough because Lucy has his knife and she's about ready to press down on his jugular, “How dare you suggest that I’m anything like him! I could… I could never do something like that!”

“Oh, no?” He says with a smirk, swatting the knife from her hand, “Maybe I haven’t pushed ya hard enough yet.”

Cooper shoves her off of him, backing her up against the bench. Lucy shouts and kicks him in the chest, he stumbles backward. She rushes for his knife again, but he’s faster and he tumbles her to the ground. She yelps as her back hits the sand-covered pavement, nicking the side of her head slightly, drawing a little bit of blood, and that’s when the rage festers in her pretty, doe eyes.

Lucy goes for the same move, her hips writhing to the side this time to be met with his thighs squeezing her like a vice. Panting, she wraps her arms around his neck and pushes as hard as she can. It’s not enough to move him, but it’s enough to catch him off guard and she slips out from underneath him, back onto her feet again. She steps on his back with one booted foot and stares down at him. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little turned on by this point.

“Well, sweetie, I guess ya got me.” 

She smirks something evil and that’s when he springs to action again. Cooper yanks her calf, sending her on a forward tumble and into the sexiest floor routine he’s ever seen. She sticks her landing and turns around, the fire still in her eyes.

“Gotta say, kid,” he spits, “you got spirit.”

“Fuck you!”

She rushes him and he takes in her posture, slightly off balance on her right leg, her left arm coming in for a punch, and he quickly sweeps his foot, knocking her onto her side. She whimpers, but before she can get back up he surrounds her again. Another miscalculation, she’s right next to his discarded hunting knife and she grabs it from the ground, pressing it against his throat.

“What if I did it, huh? Would you stitch back up just like those other ghouls?”

“I dunno, sugar. Ya got the gumption to find out?”

She presses slightly, drawing some blood, but he moves fast, yanking her arm aside and curling her up. Lucy breaks free again, bounding away from him with the knife. Cooper moves in a fluid motion, knocking her slightly off balance with a kick of his boot, taking his knife back, and sheathing the weapon. She growls and he finds himself with his back up against the Oldsmobile again, his smile widening as she wraps her hands around his neck. He lets himself relish what’s become of her. He’s responsible for this, at least a little, and it feels good knowing she’s finally exhibiting that potential. That she’s embracing the little killer she could be in these wastes.

Cooper doesn’t let her go too far, though. He sees the exhaustion in her movements, the way her blows lack the bite they had before. The flame is flickering out. He takes advantage, sweeping her leg out from under her and sending her tumbling hard against the opposite wall.

She tries to fight back, but the fight is drained out of her. Her eyelids flutter with the weight of it all—adrenaline running dry, muscles no doubt aching, and her mind cracking under the pressure of all that had happened. Cooper pins her against the wall, not too rough, but firm enough to make her understand that the game is over. They are done here.

She glares up at him, defiant, hazel eyes smoldering, refusing to give in. Her breath comes in quick, shallow bursts and their mouths are close enough that he can feel her warmth ghosting over his face, close enough to share the same air as it brushes up to the cavity in his face where his nose used to be. He schools his expression, tired himself by the time they wrap up.

As he looks into her eyes, something shifts inside him. He sees the same desperation and pain he had felt so many times before. The same fear of losing everything. He holds her there a moment, the only sound the now quiet breathing between them.

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears. Silent, at first. Then they come in waves, rolling down her cheeks. Cooper loosens his grip on her wrists. His face softens further, and he gently helps her stand up, supporting her as she sways. He had seen this kind of breakdown before. Hell, he’d had his own more times than he cared to count. She needed this. He needed to be there for it. He’d wished someone had been there for his.

[13eyond13]

Really appreciating in Berserk how The Count's chapters in the Black Swordsman arc can be used as a parallel for what's going on emotionally with Griffith, especially leading up to and during the Eclipse.

For me it starts with Theresia explaining to Puck the dark transformation that took place in her father whenever he first used the Behelit. She explains it like so: "Father was a great ruler. He may have been harsh, but that was so he could defend his kingdom against neighboring enemies. He was trusted and loved by all, even as a father."

"But father changed. Like a man possessed, he started hunting down heretics. Now it doesn't even make a difference anymore whether they're heretics or not! It's almost as if he enjoys hurting people! I'm scared. Sometimes i feel as if he's not human anymore."

Puck reflects on this afterwards by thinking:

"For revenge on the heretics who robbed him of the woman he loved? Is that why he acquired demonic powers? He summoned the Godhand and he himself became a demon?"

It is also revealed soon after this by the Godhand that The Count's wife was not in fact killed by heretics, like Theresia had been told. The Count had discovered that his wife was being unfaithful to him, which initially drove him to suicidal thoughts (kind of like a certain somebody else we know during an extremely dark period in his life):

"Seeing the triumphant, knowing smile of your betrayer drove you to the depths of despair. You decided to end your own life to escape that despair. However, your despair itself was part of the wheel of fate."

Until, instead of ending his own life, The Count decided to use her for his first sacrifice instead:

"Yes indeed, you said it! 'I offer this woman for sacrifice.' The life you couldn't take by your own hand, the life of the person you loved and hated the most! You gave it to us! So that you could bury your fragile human heart."

The Count is also acting sneeringly arrogant towards Guts during their battle, belittling him by saying things to him like:

"No matter how much you've tried to hone your skills, you've come to the limit of your pathetic human form. How fragile you humans."

Puck is NOT having any of this from The Count, and he counters that remark with: "...You yourself used to be one of those fragile humans!"

"You acquired those powers so you could get revenge on the heretics, didn't you?! But that wasn't the only reason. If it was only about revenge, all you had to do was exercise your authority."

"The truth is, you became this thing to run away from the pain inside your own heart! To run away from yourself! You threw away your humanity! If anyone's a fragile human, it's you!"

Cue Griffith as Femto showing up for the very first time, and then almost immediately also attempting to belittle Guts, saying:

"Still squirming around in your pitiful existence, I see..."

"Black Swordsman, you say? His petty existence is beneath our notice."

Guts ALSO isn't having any of that, and replies: "My petty existence? Don't make me laugh! You're where you are now thanks to this petty existence. Thanks to me, who's fighting an army of the dead because of you! Thanks to me who's writhing around in my own blood!"

"You stand there putting on airs like you're some kind of godly being! Griffith!" To which Griffith coolly replies: "Yes... You're nothing but a squirming, sacrificial offering."

HOWEVER. What is then explained directly after that to everybody by The Godhand?

That an acceptable sacrifice for the Invocation of Doom can only be somebody that you genuinely care about.

Guts cannot be used for The Count's second sacrifice, not only because Griffith had already marked him as a sacrifice, but because according to the Godhand:

"The boy is merely your enemy... It must be someone important to you, part of your soul. Someone so close to you that it's almost like giving up a part of you... By making such a sacrifice to demonkind, you'll be able to sever any remnants of your own humanity. A fissure in your heart will open up into which evil will surge."

So for The Count, the only proper candidate left is his daughter Theresia. And Griffith urges him to make this final choice by saying:

"Cut your love asunder, Count!"

So taking ALL of this into account, is Griffith calling Guts "nothing but a squirming sacrificial offering" actually really that sick of a burn? Hmmm.... idk, but it really makes u think.....

[sheepwhosleeps]

The eclipse sa scene makes me so angry, and not because it happened but because of the potential it had to connect past story lines. Casca's past from Griffith saving her from the noble (and Casca's overall character in general since I fear that her character went so unexplored during/after it) Guts and his past and how that wasn't even mentioned and Griffith and his past sexual relationships. We could've had a Casca that was out for revenge, a Casca who's character was explored and how she deals with those feelings. We could've had a Guts dealing with his past instead of shoving it off to the side and acting like it never happened (and in a perfect world there would be greater consequences for the assult he did to Casca in later chapters). We could've had a deeper connection of Griffith and his struggle with sex as being a power thing (such as Gennon, the princess, and Casca from the wagon scene). ALL THIS POTENTIAL just for it to come off as some weird hentai and for it to be just about Guts when it could've been a great exploration for all three characters. Also that scene of Guts' dark thoughts wanting to sa Casca to get closer to Griffith is conviently never talked about when I see people hating on Griffith's character and acting like Guts was the perfect man for Casca. It makes me laugh. I hate when people take the asshole out of Guts' character, what makes him interesting IS those dark thoughts of how he's still not over Griffith despite what happened to a woman he supposedly cares about. Honestly I hope Casca kills them both atp or she becomes an apostle. Or she does SOMETHING to make her an actual character again.

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Christmas Invasion (Part 39)

Excerpt from the Radio Times, 17-30 December 2005, interviews by Nick Griffiths

Under current guidelines, a woman's work is never done. And Christmas is just the busiest time. Presents to wrap, tree to decorate, mince pies in the oven and, in Rose Tyler's case, a world to save from alien invasion. With the Doctor lying in bed, nursing a post-regenerative hangover, he's not a lot of use for early swathes of the Christmas special. So Billie Piper has to carry the episode. "When I first read the script, I was thinking, 'Bloody hell! I'm left to make all the decisions!' That was scary," she admits. "I never feel like I'm in charge, as Rose or as myself. But it actually worked very well. "What I forget is that even in the earlier episodes of series one, Rose gets the Doctor out of trouble. She instigates a lot of it. "When I read the script, I thought, 'This is quite dark and kids will be petrified to go near their Christmas trees.' But they love being scared," says Piper with glee. "This show sends your imagination crazy, and that's so brilliant." "But I'm a Christmas freak so I was in my element. I've got fairy lights in my house all year round and I once kept a Christmas tree up until the end of February. Getting rid of a tree is like leaving a friend or loved one," she says. Even a killer Christmas tree?

For more, see [ part one ] of the Christmas Invasion Behind-the-scenes posts (although [ part two ] appears to be the most popular one in this set…), or click the [ #whoBtsCi ] tag or the full episode list [ here ]

[youngsadlesbian]

BABY'S FIRST GAY PANIC — carina deluca and maya bishop.

pairing: carina deluca x maya bishop x daughter!reader

summary: you used to love spending your days at the hospital with carina, until suddenly, not anymore.

a/n: english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes, guys.

word count: 548

warnings: none, just pure fluff.

During much of your childhood you loved moving between your mothers' jobs. Normally you preferred the hospital because there was always someone to talk to while your mother was in surgery or tending to a patient.

As you grew up, your frequency at both jobs decreased, but you still went sporadically. But for a while now you refused to go to the hospital and your mothers didn't know why.

The sudden change in weather in Seattle made you sick and need to stay away from school for a few days. Your mothers were unable to take time off and care for you at home, so Carina decided to take you to the hospital with her.

It's no exaggeration to say that you almost freaked out over this information.

"Mamma, non voglio andare! Please let me stay at home." You had gotten into the habit of mixing English and Italian when you were nervous and Maya thought it was adorable. It was like seeing a young version of Carina gesticulating and complaining around the house.

"Bambina, I can't leave you at home alone. Unfortunately you have to go." You pouted angrily. “I promise to make it up to you at the weekend, okay?”

You didn't have many options so you were forced to accept. Maya decided to take you because she had something to resolve at the hospital, captain's task, as she said. Going to Grey-Sloan was synonymous with being pampered by nurses, even the most grumpy surgeons.

And there were the interns.

Lucas Adams, Simone Griffith, Benson Kwan, Mika Yasuda and... Jules Millin.

She was the reason you didn't like going to the hospital, because let's say you had a gay panic every time you saw her.

"Doctor DeLuca, I was looking for you!" Jules' voice made you want to hide behind Maya, but you wouldn't be a cowardly little baby. "Y/n/n, you finally showed up. You're missed here."

You felt yourself falling apart when the woman's cold hand caressed your cheek. Stammering out some awkward answer, you gave your mother some privacy and sat with Maya at the reception. The firefighter didn't take long to understand what had happened, but decided not to say anything until Carina resolved what she needed.

You were almost falling asleep on Maya's shoulder when Carina came back, smiling and practically jumping with joy.

"I think your intern broke our daughter." Maya commented to your horror. You widened your eyes and hid your face in her neck. "Baby's first gay panic."

Carina put the pieces together and finally understood everything that had been happening. It's not that you didn't enjoy going to the hospital anymore, you just didn't know how to deal with the feeling of being close to Jules with an alarming frequency.

"Do you have a crush on Jules, bambina?" Carina asked and you groaned, both from embarrassment and from a headache. "Oh, now I understand."

"Please don't ever talk about this to anyone." You stood up so suddenly that you felt dizzy, but you managed to disguise it masterfully. "Can I stay with Aunt Amelia today? Please."

Carina couldn't hide her smile in time from you, who looked at her as if you could kill her without even blinking.

"Of course, bambina. Let's talk to her."

[youremyheaven]

The Astrology of Muses: A Vedic Exploration 🎨🖌👫💏

This is going to be a loooong post so hang in there besties<3

Claire Nakti observed that Ketu being the root or tail of the dragon is the source of our creativity. So whatever we channel during the process of art making is reflective of our Ketu, its placement etc. While I agree with this observation, I'd also like to add that Venus is also very important in determining the creativity, creative nature and career of an individual, as well as who or what they seek inspiration from.

Obviously Sun-Moon relationships and other aspects with luminaries can also determine how we connect to and draw inspiration from others.

First of all, let's understand what a muse is.

A muse is defined as a person (often, a woman but not always) who serves as a source of artistic inspiration creativity, and passion for the artist.

In mythology, the Muses were nine goddesses who symbolized the arts and sciences. 

There is a spiritual reason why women serve as the source of creativity for others. This is because of them being Yin, inwardly expansive and vessels that can be receptive to a variety of influences. Water is the most feminine element and the ability of water to take the shape of whatever's its poured into is very important in this context. Water is life giving but it can also be destructive and turbulent. All of these are very telling about feminine nature.

Anyways, let's look through some artist-muse relationships in history and pop culture.

F Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda Fitzgerald

Probably one of the most famous literary romances. Zelda was Scott's lover, wife and muse. They had a very tumultuous marriage; Zelda was diagnosed with schizophrenia and Scott was an alcoholic but they also enjoyed immense popularity and success early on in their marriage and career.

It is now known that Scott plagiarized much of his work from the diaries and letters of his wife, Zelda and was controlling & abusive towards her when she expressed interest in furthering her own literary career.

Both of them had Mars in Mrigashira as their atmakaraka

Scott had Ketu in Ashlesha & his muse, Zelda was Ashlesha Rising (and mercury which was her amatyakaraka)

2. Vita Sackville West and Virginia Woolf

They were both married to different men when they began their affair with each other. They significantly influenced each other's work; Vita wrote Seducers In Ecuador dedicated to Virginia, while Virginia's Orlando was about Vita. The relationship lasted until Virginia's death in 1941.

Vita was Uttara Ashada Rising, whereas Virginia had Venus in Uttara Ashada

Vita had Venus in Aswini and Virginia was Aswini Moon

3. Ingrid Bergman & Roberto Rossellini

They began an affair when she was still married to her husband whilst filming the movie Stromboli. She got pregnant and they later got married.

While the movies Bergman made with Rossellini were commercial failures, the films have garnered great appreciation and attention for their contribution to Italian Neo-realism.

Bergman was Magha Sun, Venus & Rising, whereas Rossellini was Magha Rising

He had Rahu in Ashlesha and she had Ketu in Ashlesha

4. Lillian Gish & D.W Griffith

Lillian Gish is called "The First Lady of American Cinema"; she was a muse to the first influential filmmaker in Hollywood, D.W. Griffith. She appeared in his ground breaking movies The Birth of a Nation (1915), Intolerance (1916), Broken Blossoms (1919) and Way Down East (1920).

D.W Griffith was Ashlesha Moon with Mars in Vishaka atmakaraka and Ketu in Chitra

Lillian Gish had Chitra Sun, Venus & Saturn (amatyakaraka) in Vishaka and Ketu in Ashlesha

5. Norma Shearer & Irving Thalberg

Norma Shearer would be dubbed the First Lady of MGM for not only being the contracted actress with the most box-office appeal but also the wife of studio head Irving Thalberg.

Thalberg, was a film executive who was called the  “boy wonder of Hollywood” who, as the production manager of MGM, was largely responsible for the studio’s prestigious reputation.

Shearer and Thalberg were married in 1927, after which Shearer had her pick of films, parts, costars, and directors, and she used this advantage to avoid being typecast. Thalberg largely directed her career until his death in 1936.

She played sexually liberated ingenues in the 1920s & 30s and is now considered a feminist icon.

She was Ashlesha Sun (atmakaraka), Venus & Mars in Ardra and Ketu in Rohini

He was Rohini Sun, Mars in Ashlesha (amatyakaraka) and Ketu in Ardra

5. Godard and Anna Karina

Karina served as a cinematic muse to Godard, appearing in eight of his films; during their five-year marriage and after. Karina liked being the muse, stating in 2016: "How could I not be honoured? Maybe it's too much, it sounds so pompous. But of course, I’m always very touched to hear people say that. Because Jean-Luc gave me a gift to play all of those parts. It was like Pygmalion, you know? I was Eliza Doolittle and he was the teacher."

Their contribution to the French New Wave and to cinema in general is widely acknowledged and well-regarded.

Karina was Ashlesha Venus (amatyakaraka), Punarvasu Rising with Ketu in Revati

Godard was Ashlesha Mars (amatyakaraka), Jupiter in Punarvasu (amatyakaraka) with Rahu in Revati

6. Monica Vitti & Michelangelo Antonioni

For 10 years, Monica Vitti was the muse and lover of Michelangelo Antonioni for almost a decade, starring in many of his most famous films, such as L’Avventura (1960), La Notte (1961), L’Eclisse (1962) & Red Desert (1964).

Vitti is Swati Sun with Ketu in Hasta

Antonioni has Hasta Sun, Mercury & Ketu along with his Venus in Swati

7. YSL & Paloma Picasso

Yves Saint Laurent had many muses but perhaps his most overlooked muse is Paloma Picasso

Paloma Picasso was the muse, who originally inspired Saint Laurent’s ‘Scandal’ collection of ‘71, and his career-defining turn away from the perfectionism of couture to a different kind of empowerment of something more wild, free and personal. 

YSL was Uttarashada moon (atmakaraka), Paloma had Uttarashada moon & jupiter (conjunct)

8. Hubert de Givenchy and Audrey Hepburn

Givenchy designed the iconic 'little black dress' worn by Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, which cemented the actress as one of the most stylish women of the 20th century.

"His are the only clothes in which I am myself. He is far more than a couturier, he is a creator of personality," said Hepburn. The Breakfast at Tiffany's dress also helped Givenchy gain worldwide recognition, and his intricate, feminine designs became the subject of adoration.

Givenchy is Shatabhisha Sun & Jupiter

Audrey is Shatabhisha Moon

9. Bob Mackie and Cher

Mackie is a costume designer. His work with Cher has a place in fashion history, from the sheer dress she wore to the 1974 Met Gala to the beaded see-through gown she wore to accept her Oscar in 1988 (let alone, designing hundreds of her costumes for The Sonny & Cher Show).

Mackie has Ketu in Bharani and Cher has Mercury in Bharani (amatyakaraka)

10.Jean Paul Gaultier and Madonna

The cone bra—one of Madonna's most famous and recognised stage outfits from her Blonde Ambition tour—was created by Jean Paul Gaultier in 1990. The piece soon launched Gaultier's career, and solidified his relationship with the iconic performer.

Gaultier went on to design stage outfits for many of Madonna's concert tours, and she even made an appearance as a model in his spring summer '95 collection. After almost 30 years of friendship, they attended the 2018 Met Gala together (Madonna wearing one of Gaultier's designs, of course).

Gauthier is Bharani Moon & Madonna is Purva phalguni Moon & Rising

This is an example of Venus attracting & partnering with Venus.

11. Pedro Almodovar and Penelope Cruz

They've done numerous movies together in the last 25 years. They are both Punarvasu Moon

Almodovar is a Purvaphalguni Mercury (amatyakaraka) and Ketu and Penelope is a Bharani Sun, so this is yet another Venusian creative partnership.

When it comes to artist-muse partnerships, sharing Ketu/Venus to Sun/Moon/Rising aspects seems to be very common. Its also common to see artists and their muses share the same luminaries. We are inspired by people who project our qualities in different ways. there is a reason we are drawn to certain people and its always because of how subconsciously they remind us of ourselves.

social muses, trendsetters & it girls

I'm not going to mention Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe or Princess Diana because I feel like enough has been said about them.

There are some people who seem to inspire not just one person specifically but the tastes and culture of a whole era. They are tastemakers who set trends and are widely imitated and their influence has far reaching impact. They are "muse" to everybody.

Jackie O

she is one of the most culturally influential people of the 20th century and defined her era (60s America) and is probably an early example of an "influencer", which is to say, people imitated her style, her manners etc

Jackie is Pushya Sun & Mercury, Aswini Moon, Ketu & Rising in Vishaka, Venus in Mrigashira atmakaraka.

2. Grace Kelly aka Princess Grace of Monaco

She is synonymous with elegance, flair and grace to this day and is widely regarded for her artistic success as well as her charitable endeavours. She is one of the most influential women in history.

She has Vishaka Sun (amatyakaraka) & Mars, Purvabhadrapada Moon, Swati Mercury, Ketu and Rising

3. Liz Taylor

Liz Taylor was known for her love of diamonds. She always dressed like a movie star, in very extravagant style with her plunging necklines, fur wraps, feather boas, and eye-catching headpieces. She was very glamorous

She was the first celebrity to have her own fragrance and thirty five years later, her perfume empire remains one of the most successful celebrity fragrance ventures of all time. White Diamonds is one the best selling celebrity fragrances in history. She paved the way for numerous others to follow in her foot steps, although not everyone has had her success.

She is Shatabhisha Sun & Mercury, Vishaka Moon, Jyeshta Rising along with Venus in Revati atmakaraka and Jupiter in Ashlesha amatyakaraka

4. Twiggy

She is the world's first supermodel. She is an important cultural icon and was the face of the Swinging Sixties in her babydoll dresses and mary janes.

She's Pushya Moon & Mars, and Punarvasu Rising

5. Diana Ross

Miss Ross rose to fame as the lead singer of the girl group the Supremes, which became Motown's most successful act in the 1960s, and one of the world's best-selling girl groups of all time. After leaving the group in 1970, she launched a successful solo career, with many huge hits across the next couple of decades. She is known for her extravagant style and is a true 80s diva who blurred the lines between costumes and everyday clothing.

She is UBP Sun, Bharani Moon, Vishaka Rising

Mercury in Revati amatyakaraka and Jupiter in Ashlesha atmakaraka

6. Beyonce

Beyonce is one of the most influential women of the 21st century. Her impact on culture is immense and undeniable.

She is Purvaphalguni Sun, Vishaka Moon (atmakaraka) & Chitra Rising

Bey & Jay have been each other's muses for a good while and have multiple albums inspired by each other. They are pop culture royalty.

Jay is Jyeshta Sun & Mercury (atmakaraka), Hasta Moon, Ketu & Rising in Purvaphalguni

7. Rihanna

RiRi is one of the most iconic women ever.

Her music, looks, products, personality- everything about her is influential af. She's multi talented and has excelled in several fields.

She is a Revati Stellium (moon, venus (amatyakaraka) & rising)

8. Paris Hilton

Probably the OG influencer. Paris defined her era (the 2000s) and has had a lasting impact on pop culture that needs to be studied. She was written out of her family will and built her own empire. She paved the way for all influencers.

Dhanishta Sun & Mercury, Pushya Moon & Jyeshta Rising

9.Kim & Kylie

I don't like them but to say they haven't had an impact on beauty/fashion/pop culture would be lying. I personally see it as a negative impact 😬 but its an impact nonetheless.

They normalized plastic surgery to such an extent that every other girl in the West and almost every famous woman at this point has fillers, botox, BBL or something done. They also paved the way for influencers entering the fashion world.

Kim is Chitra Sun, UBP Moon & Jyeshta Rising with Mercury in Vishaka amatyakaraka and Venus in Purva phalguni atmakaraka

Kylie is Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon & Purva ashada Rising

She has Venus in Uttaraphalguni atmakaraka & Saturn in Revati amatyakaraka

10. Bella Hadid

cannot talk about it girls and not mention Bella.

she's had such a massive impact on pop culture in the late 2010s & now in the 2020s. she made y2k style as popular as it is today and is probably the only true supermodel of our era.

She's Hasta Sun (amatyakaraka), Purva phalguni Moon & Rising with Ketu in UBP, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

she's inspired practically The Weeknd's entire discography. He has Ketu in Ashlesha

it's interesting to me how all the Hadid siblings have inspired a lot of pop music. (Gigi with Zayn, Anwar with Dua Lipa etc)

11. Selena Gomez

Selena's inspired way too many heartbreak songs to not be on this list.

She's Pushya Sun & Rising with Aswini Moon with Ashlesha Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus

There has been a lot of Vishaka women and Jupiter natives in general, Pushya ladies, Ketuvian (esp Aswini), Venusian influence and a lot of people with Ashlesha atmakaraka/amatyakaraka. Pisces influence and Jyeshta influence is also seen. Why are these planets/naks/rashis recurring?

Talking about people who have a very wide impact, it makes sense as to why Jupiter natives would be here; its expansiveness reaches everyone. In fact if you look at the era defining cultural figures of any decade, you will see a common Jupiter influence. This is also why Pisces rashi (Pisces is ruled by Jupiter) is so common in the world of art & entertainment.

Venusian placements are what creates trendsetters imo. Its what makes others imitate you and want to be like you.

Ashlesha natives dominate the entertainment sphere because entertainment and all art tbh, is in the simplest terms, manipulating others.

Pushya women inspire others with their feminine charms. Ketu being the root or the tail means that its very easy for others to project on to them. They lack identity on their own; its a very shadowy realm. This is what celebrities are to most people; you don't know them or understand them, which makes it easier to project onto them and love them for that illusion.

Jyeshta represents lack and in the world of influence, more than abundance, its that space of lack that makes it easier for people to add/built on to the persona they see of someone.

I'll make a part 2 sometime but for now this is it. I hope it was insightful.