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frame-to-frame · 2 years

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Hey! what is your basis within Berserk to back up your interpretation that neogriff believes his current life is his punishment, and there isn't room for anything more or less?

Thanks for the question! I’m curious as to where you’re coming from with it – like what else do you see NeoGriff experiencing? – but I’ll outline my evidence/thinking for my interpretation as well below the cut. I will clarify that I don’t think he can’t experience other feelings, I just characterize his persona/mask as being primarily about repression and self-imposed suffering.

Most of the basis for this reading comes from three scenes:

1. The apostles and Puck in Black Swordsman explaining to readers what the apostles are;

2. NeoGriffith confronting Guts on the Hill of Swords, or the infamous “bthump” scene; and

3. The Ganishka confrontation, where NeoGriffith/Femto tell him and readers that they (Femto/NeoGriffith) are one and the same

So first off, what are the apostles, and by extension the Godhand (who de/ascend by the same process)? Puck tells us that they run away from their pain (“You became this thing to run away from the pain inside your own heart. To run away from yourself”) and the Godhand says the same thing (“You gave it to us/So that you could bury your fragile human heart”). This is a perfect explanation for what these people are – they are people who have done unspeakable things (see: the necessity of the sacrifice) in order to avoid/cope with their own pain. They made themselves into monsters in order to bury their hearts.

Very neatly this description is also the exact combination of Griffith’s coping mechanisms for his guilt that we see throughout the GA – self-harm (making himself unlovable to others, disfigured, a monster), and repression (burying his heart by putting on the mask of the perfect leader and the prince to woo the princess, pushing aside his feelings in order to pursue the dream).

After the eclipse, he is reborn into this same duality (monster/Femto; mask/NeoGriffith). Femto does the unspeakable horrors that ensure we (and he) know that he is a monster, NeoGriffith is the mask that ensures his human heart is buried.

The bthumping heart scene is the most obvious demonstration of this persona as a kind of mask – he goes to see Guts in order to ensure that he did actually bury his heart, that he felt nothing for him anymore (“My blood should have been frozen”), but of course his heart is still there, it’s just buried. Hence, bthump.

This is why NeoGriffith =/= Griffith. Both his love and his pain/guilt (pretty apt encapsulations of his “heart”), the main things that motivated him before his death/rebirth, are now buried beneath the two personas/coping mechanisms. He is now primarily motivated by the dream (“I’ll not betray my dream. That is all”) – specifically insofar as he is acting as the saviour of the world (NeoGriffith); or alternatively he is motivated by causing pain to others in order to cause pain to himself (Femto).

However the scene with Ganishka shows us that these two personas, Femto/NeoGriffith are inextricable, they are two halves to the same coin (“He who bears light/exists in the deepest shadow”). His repression is also self harm. And yeah, no shit – because it fucking hurts to put aside your own feelings, to say that your life means nothing unless you live for others. NeoGriffith is the mask, the encapsulation of the perfect prince, the perfect husband, the perfect leader. But he’s also inextricable from Femto, which that tells us that this persona is psychologically damaging to him. The pain has to go somewhere.

The main things we as readers see about NeoGriffith is that he’s lonely (the many panels of him isolated), he’s placid and always smiling (being slapped by Rickert), and ignoring his heart (bthump). This is the mask, and the mask is Griffith telling himself that his heart should remain buried. But when you tell yourself that it’s better for everyone if you ignore what you want, it eats away at you. You become hollow.

And again, the pain has to go somewhere – hence Femto. The Ganishka scene explains why there has to be monsters in Falconia, because the perfect city needs to bear its “cost,” just like NeoGriffith’s dream can only be achieved through the pain and monstrosity of Femto. Femto’s hate, hurt, anger, betrayal, horror is the “cost” of him being able to put on the mask that is NeoGriffith.

That’s why I read post-eclipse Griffith as suffering. He has become a monster in order to bury his heart. A monster who can do both divine and abominable things and feel nothing while also feeling absolutely everything. As NeoGriffith self-effaces, becomes the mask, the hollow shell, Femto also lashes out and lives in the pain of doing so.

Basically, while this is communicated to us through metaphor and symbolism, I think post-eclipse Griffith is a pretty psychologically accurate representation of what it feels like to repress your emotions for the sake of others. What it feels like to become a mask. Because even if you become the mask, it still fucking hurts. Because you can’t really destroy your heart, you can only try to bury it.

The idea of this suffering as “punishment” specifically comes from my interpretation of his pre-rebirth motivations. He believed himself to be evil ("It is cause and effect that a child bear his evil and confront destiny") and so in the sacrifice he made a choice that confirmed it. He believed he’d done wrong and needed to suffer for it, to become a monster, choose the raven black wings and become something truly unloveable and unsaveable as a punishment for his own choices.

That is how Femto, at least, came into being – NeoGriffith of course came after. He was brought into the world in order to serve others, and he needs to become the mask to do so. But Femto is always there alongside, simmering beneath the surface. In this way, Griffith living the dream is shown to be monstrous, it hurts because it’s based on the subjugation of others (through Femto) and the effacement of himself (through NeoGriffith). I have more to say about NeoGriffith as living for others in particular but I’ll leave that for a later meta, this is already getting long enough lol.

Last small note though: I believe that it’s impossible to provide textual evidence that has only one concrete interpretation – meaning comes from how we interact with the text, so there’s no right answer for how to read Berserk. These are just some of the scenes that lead me to interpreting him in this way, and I think it fits really neatly with the rest of the story. Anyway I’ll stop rambling now!

#this was sitting in my drafts for ages for no reason whatsoever #sorry for the delay #i need to learn to just post my shit without hand-wringing about it for an eternity #this was fun thank you for the question!#hope that helps?#i’d love to chat more about it #i’m curious what else you see in neogriff’s characterization that this interpretation misses #i didn't even get into the gay aspect here #it's a bit more difficult to subtantiate #but reading griff as a gay man makes it pretty easy to see his marriage to charlotte as a clear example of suffering in a fake and #unfulfilling marriage for the sake of duty and the dream #aka another example of burying his heart and in so doing hurting himself #ig i have an asks tag now #asks #berserk

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hawkfawun · 1 year

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Chapter 2!

Thanks for the ask! For context the concept is Guts loses the duel and stays in the Hawks. Tensions are high because of that and to throw another issue at them they have a mission involving working with the Holy Iron Chain knights. I am working on building up the relationships between the pre eclipse Hawks and them!

Guts looked to the Hawks captains from a distance. He still sat with them to eat, but more often then not he sat a distance away when he did. Far back enough no one would talk to him too much. It felt especially daunting today. He knew all of them would want to hear about what he thought of the new people and Guts didn’t know what to make of them himself.

Although missing out on a well earned meal didn’t sound appealing either. He looked to the top of the hill, and between a few trees he could see some smoke from a fire. It was the man he fought earlier, haunched over something and cooking by himself. It almost looked like he was hiding going all the way up there. Guts made his way over, past the dewy tall spring grass and short trees blocking the set up from view.

“That smells good. Can I get some?”

Serpico looked up only briefly then back down to what he was doing. He had a regular cooking set up with a small flame under it. Nothing all that fancy. Guts felt a small bit of disappointment in the lack of interest at his arrival. Without waiting for an answer he took a pea pod out of a bowl and popped it in his mouth. That elicited a small scowl from the man. Ah, there’s his reaction. Guts grinned in return as a spoon pushed his fingers away firmly.

“No. You cannot get some.”

Guts didn’t relent and stood only a bit away with arms crossed. He didn’t say anything either. Waiting it out seemed to work because eventually the man took a breath and leaned over to hand him something. It was a small paring knife.

“Alright then. Chop these please.” Serpico asked while handing him some roots.

Guts looked between the man and the knife, looking at the already cleaned vegetables. He expected him to help? It had been some time since he cooked anything. Judau and Rickert usually cooked for the captains by themselves. That was fine with him. He didn’t care who cooked as long as he had something to eat. “Who said I was helping? ...Sure. Fine.”

Guts started chopping the root vegetable directly into the pot . Only for Serpico to place his hands over his own a few moments later. “No no no. Finer. Like this, see?”

Gut’s let him keep his fingers over his own. He was surprised to see they were delicate, yet clearly scared too. Maybe he had seen some battles. He stayed quiet for a moment. The only sound was the crackling fire and the knife cutting down. The touch didn’t make him want to pull away like he would have expected.

“I was doing it like that already. Don’t be so particular.” He said when Serpico let go and moved back to his respective spot. He continued till the task was finished and reclined back once more, putting the knife back down.

“I want a rematch. I can tell you’re one of the only ones here who have seen some real combat before. Don’t hold out on me.”

“No thank you. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m just as much of a coward who couldn’t stand to see any real bloodshed as everyone else in my legion.”

Guts gave an eye roll but couldn’t help smiling. He can’t stand that type of person, but had a feeling he was only being half truthful anyways. Better not to pry. The Hawks came from every background imaginable and you learn not to ask too many questions. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is being good enough to be worth your horse and sword.

Not long later Serpico handed over his bowl for a serving of the meat and vegetables. It looked like a fairly typical stew, but maybe a bit nicer than what they usually eat a bit more generous in ingredients. He didn’t wait to dig in. It was tender and had some flavors he didn’t recognize. “Hey this is really good. If you don’t want to fight so much, we could use a cook here.”

He could hear someone in armor approaching, but waited to turn around and see who it was till he could feel them behind him. When he did look he saw it was the woman he’d seen earlier. She looked mad but he didn’t care to find out why and kept eating. It was obvious she was still staring at him after some time.

“Could you please excuse us? I have things to discuss with my Harold.”

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bthump · 1 year

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How about Lamb of God or Toy Soldier for the Berserk WIPs? 😄

Thank you!

Lamb of God is my AU fic idea where it's Casca's behelit rather than Griffith's. Essentially a no Promrose everything-works-out AU, some evil noble tried to frame Griffith for an attempted assassination of Charlotte and Casca impulsively took the fall for him. Officially it was stated that she was executed, but she ends up tortured for the requisite year, all her admiration for Griff and his dream turning to bitterness and regret. When Griffith becomes king he discovers her and immediately rescues her and promises that she'll be taken care of in total comfort for the rest of her life etc etc and the behelit opens. She sacrifices all of midland. Guts and Griffith survive (they've been in a relationship for years at this point), Griffith takes over the Black Swordsman angry fucked up role and Guts is more the voice of reason.

Incidentally it's never gonna get properly written, so if anyone wants to take this idea feel free lol. I feel like this goes for all my posted ideas like, if I was gonna be possessive over them I wouldn't talk about them publically lol. But since there's been recent discussion over this general concept, Guts and Griffith together after someone else's Eclipse, I figure it's worth mentioning.

“Look,” Guts said while Casca did her thing with the powder, “I actually did plan to run eventually. It’s not like I killed a hundred men just because I had nothing better to do that night.” The combination of the breeze and the medicine was doing a good job of relaxing him.

“Then why did you?”

“Nothing special. One of them shot an arrow into my leg, and I figured running wouldn’t do me any good after that.” Guts basked in the feeling of the pain fading for a moment, then decided to keep talking. She’d told him her story, after all. “But to tell you the truth, I was thinking about what you told me too. About Griffith, about how he saved you, about his dream. And I guess I get it.”

He looked down at the Hawk camp. The hundreds of little campfires looked like a reflection of the stars in the night sky from up here. It was beautiful. This was what Griffith had made. He’d gathered them all together, given them all a place, a goal - a share of his own blazing dream. Every Hawk who’d died, whose death tormented Griffith, had been happy. Guts knew it. He’d seen enough mercenary camps to recognize something different. To tell a band from a family, a job from a home.

Each of those fires was a hearth. Each of those men was a brother, and Casca was their sister.

“Before I met Griffith, I just wandered. I didn’t have a home, didn’t have a plan except to make it through the next day and maybe earn some money chopping heads while I did it. I didn’t even have a reason for wanting to see the next day besides not wanting to die.

“And back there, in that clearing, it hit me: I was fighting for more than just my life. I was fighting for yours. For the Hawks. And for Griffith. And I didn’t just want to live because dying seemed a little worse - I wanted to live to see you all again. And… and because I think that… other people would miss me, if I bought it there.”

“Guts…” Casca’s voice sounded oddly sad.

“What?” He turned back to look at her. She was leaning against the tree, hair fluttering in the gentle breeze, and eyes bright.

“It’s just… maybe it’s a good thing. That Griffith found you.”

Guts smirked. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that or they’ll think you’re gettin’ soft.”

“Oh shut up.”

But her words made him think of something else too. Why did it have to be you? “Hey, listen, about what you said yesterday -”

“Guts, Casca! Griffith’s back!” It was Rickert’s voice. He was halfway up the hill, Pippin just behind him. “He advanced his schedule a day when he heard you were back safe.”

Guts just smiled at Casca. That said most of what he’d meant to tell her anyway: there was room enough for the both of them at Griffith’s side.

***

Toy Soldier is a post-torture no Eclipse AU where Puck and his troupe show up while they're trying to decide what to do, and Puck tries to heal Griffith and mostly fails, only getting his flayed skin. Then Puck mentions that maybe a witch could do more for him, so they journey to find a witch. Then when they find the witch she can't do shit for him either except offer those magic communication rings as as consolation prize, but along the way they sorted out a bunch of their issues and now they have a good chance of living happily ever after anyway. Yk, the magic healing was the mutually requited pining we finally admitted to along the way, kinda thing.

Here, have a whole scene because again this is pretty thoroughly abandoned. Turns out writing is hard lol.

Casca climbed out of the wagon, taking care not to wake the two men sleeping within. Her heart ached unpleasantly at the sight of them in the dim grey light of dawn, of Guts curled protectively around Griffith’s comparatively tiny form, and while this was a feeling she had grown used to since she’d first met Guts, she’d been hoping it was one she’d finally left behind.

It was silly. She was silly, she was irrational, and she was very disappointed in herself, but she could not deny what she felt. It was like when Griffith had ridden back for Guts that very first time and she simply could not understand why - no. No, she’d known why, even naive as she was. She’d tried to convince herself that it was because of Guts’ usefulness, but even then some part of her had known it was a lie.

But she still didn’t know why it had been Guts, of all people, and four years later she remained none-the-wiser.

She wanted to scream at the sheer unfairness of it all. When Guts had entered their lives she had been serving Griffith with utter faithfulness, honed in body, mind, and soul as his second-in-command and sword for three years, and some upstart asshole he’d met a week earlier, who’d had to be beaten into submission for God’s sake, was the first person she’d ever known for whom Griffith would risk his life.

She had given herself to the Hawks as their leader for an exhausting year full of terror and confusion, she’d spearheaded the plan to rescue Griffith, she’d spent days on end without sleep pouring over maps and messages and listening for the raids that never seemed to stop, all the while Guts, whose bull-headedness and pride had been the very reason they’d lost Griffith, had been gallivanting around fighting and philosophizing. And Guts was the one in the wagon now, comforting Griffith.

Guts, and not her. Griffith, and not her.

It was too much, too complicated. Feeling slightly dazed she walked off and found herself heading towards the one point of light in view, which turned out to be Judeau’s campfire. She slumped down beside him, glad he was a fellow early riser, and glad of the circle of heat in the chill morning air.

“Hey,” he said, amicable as he ever was. “You all right?”

“Just tired,” she deflected with a smile. “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

“I’ll drink to that.” He saluted her with his waterskin before taking a sip.

“Have the others shown up yet?” she asked, ever aware of her duties as leader.

He shook his head. “I took the liberty of sending out a couple scouts to see if they spent the night somewhere nearby. Figured you have a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah, I do at that. Thanks,” she said sincerely. Judeau was a second-in-command any leader would wish for.

“Anytime. Hungry?”

“Mm, sure. I haven’t eaten yet.”

His smile grew wider. “Good, water’ll be boiling soon. How are they, anyway?” He inclined his head towards the wagon, which was planted near the centre of their camp, tents and fire pits circling it and radiating out like petals of a flower.

Casca started in surprise. “How did you -”

“Saw Guts go in last night, never saw him come out, and this morning his tent wasn’t even drawn closed when I walked past.” He shrugged. “I can put two and two together.”

“One of your many talents,” Casca muttered, slightly irritated at being taken off-guard. Then, louder, “they’re still asleep.”

He shot her a grin, and added in a suspiciously light tone, “you know, sometimes everyone, especially a leader, needs a shoulder to lean on. You don’t have to make the big decisions totally alone. So if you wanna talk…”

She sighed. “Thanks, Judeau. I appreciate it, really. It’s just - there’s so much. I don’t even know if I can put it into words. Everything’s changed, all at once, and -”

“Where do we go from here?” he finished for her.

“Yeah.”

Judeau looked at her, meeting her eyes for a moment, and then looked away and into the fire. “I’m about to overstep my bounds,” he said with uncharacteristic hesitance, “so please try not to break my nose for it. But after all this time, all your work and dedication and nights without sleep - before and after Midland turned on us - everything you’ve done for the Hawks, and for Griffith - maybe it’s time to do something for yourself.”

Instead of outrage, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She’d tried, hadn’t she? She’d been poised to accept Guts’ offer, to rescue Griffith, see him safe and recovering, and leave with someone she… maybe she didn’t love Guts, but she could. She could feel the potential within her, the spark anticipating kindling.

“Like what?” she asked, and, instead of decking him like she ought to, continued, voicing her thoughts. “You know Guts asked me to leave with him?”

“Ah. I’d wondered.”

She did hit him then, but no more than a playful, if painful, punch on the shoulder.

“Shut up,” she said with affection as he winced and massaged the sore spot with just a hint of theatricality. “It was before the rescue mission, before we found Griffith. I thought maybe… but it’s impossible now.”

Judeau dropped his arm and looked her in the eyes, gaze focused and intent. “Is it?”

“He wants to stay. I want to stay. I spent most of my life at Griffith’s side… I can’t leave now… now when he needs me more than ever.”

He sighed, leaned back, and glanced up and away. “I hate to say this - believe me, I do - but… he doesn’t need you. He just needs someone.” Casca’s mouth dropped open in shock. The words felt like physical blows, landing in her gut, her chest, the base of her spine. It was one thing to think that way in the privacy of her own treacherous mind, but to hear it confirmed, so easily, as though it was obvious, hurt. “What do you need?”

“Not ‘someone,’” she said, ignoring the question. “Guts.” And that was the end of her self-control. Her vision began to blur with tears so she looked down, clasping her hands tightly together. “Damn it, Judeau,” she said with a little, bitter huff of laughter that ended up sounding more like a sob to her ears. “What do you think I should do, exactly?”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. He’d probably been expecting her to shout or slap him, not lose it like some naive lovesick kid. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Answer the question.” She meant it as an order.

Maybe he heard the command in her tone despite the tears because he did. “I think you and Guts should let me take care of Griffith and leave together, to be completely honest. I’m more than happy to take him with me and make sure he’s comfortable and with friends. I owe him so much - all the Hawks do - that this is nothing.”

It sounded good when he said it like that. Griffith, with friends, taken care of by the men who had dedicated their lives to him. They would be loyal. They would respect him, even love him in their own way.

Couldn’t Griffith find contentment among men like that?

Judeau gave her a slightly awkward pat on the shoulder. “Sorry,” he said again. “But you should think about it. You’re an amazing person, all on your own merits you know. Not many women could command a thousand men - even queens are ornamental more often than not. Whatever you end up doing, just make sure it’s something worthy of our big sis, okay?”

Casca could think of nothing to say in response, face growing warm from the earnest praise; she wanted to either demure, or summon anger at the implication that caring for Griffith was beneath her, but the emotions wouldn’t come.

The pot began to bubble then and she was saved from having to answer immediately. She watched Judeau add things to the water, mostly oats with a few extras for flavour. Some green things - onions were all she recognized - and leftover bits of pork. It occurred to Casca that she’d never been much for cooking. She could roast a hunk of meat over a flame and throw leftovers into a pot of water, but ask her about spices or anything more complicated than a haphazard stew and she was lost. In her life with the Hawks she’d always been surrounded by men willing to share their suppers, first with a young girl, and then with a commander they respected.

Could Guts cook?

As a woman she ought to be nurturing. She should be comfortable with weakness and take to nurse-maiding the way mothers instinctively cared for their children - but she couldn’t even feed Griffith without spilling soup with her shaking hands. She’d broken down and cried when confronted with his silence, his damaged body, his need to be comforted. The sight of his hands, of weakness where solid strength should be, had made her want to recoil.

Guts had slept curled up against him.

When she’d seen them together in the wagon a part of her had thought, that should be me. She should be holding Griffith in her arms right now, protective and caring. But it hadn’t been - she hadn’t been the one to think to check on him before going to sleep, and if she had been, she wouldn’t’ve stayed, and certainly wouldn’t’ve pulled him close. There was a distance she had never been able to bridge between her and Griffith, and even now it remained, holding her at arm’s length. That distance didn’t exist for Guts.

Could Judeau and his men compensate for that closeness?

“What do you think of them?” She blurted the question out suddenly, words coming out before she had a chance to reel them back safely.

Judeau looked at her in surprise, spoon pausing mid-stir. “Guts and Griffith, you mean?” She nodded and he finished stirring the pot and came down to sit beside her again before speaking. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe I felt a little betrayed by Guts leaving us too, but I guess I just don’t trust him to stick with Griffith. I think he’d be better off with someone he can stand back to back with. Someone like you.”

“I just don’t know anymore. It’s all so… murky. But hey,” she forced a smile, “thanks for being a shoulder. I’ll think about what you said.”

Judeau nodded, smiled, and Casca felt a hint of comfort, like the warmth from the fire. She pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on them, and listened to it crackle.

#ask #nico-jero #ask meme #fic #b

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cosmicjoke · 2 years

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Further explorations on redemption for Griffith:

Thinking more about “Berserk” lately, and how I truly believe the driving force behind the story and narrative is friendship, the importance of friendship, and specifically, the friendship and overall relationship between Guts and Griffith.

Some of the most interesting character moments for Griffith came in the battle between his recuse party and the Black Dog Knights, and the following chapter "Armor to the Heart", and his interaction in that chapter with Guts. I found these moments for Griffith and Guts to be far and away the most humanizing and, truthfully, poignant. We see Griffith show what seems to me genuine concern for both Guts and Casca during the battle with Wylad, genuine frustration at being unable to step in and help, genuine joy when it seems Guts will defeat him, after he sees Guts is alive still after seemingly being killed, etc... And of course, the scene with Guts and Griffith in the covered wagon afterward, when Guts is remembering his and Griffith's fight with Zodd, and Griffith smiles at him, there's such a real sense of shared companionship between them, and such a tragic sweetness in the following panels , when Guts dresses Griffith in his armor, and tries to encourage him and give him hope for the future. The full page panel of Guts sitting at Griffith's back, buckling his armor onto him from behind, is still, in my opinion, one of the most moving panels in the entire series.

With all this in mind, with the theme of friendship and particularly the friendship between these two, I’ve been thinking more on all the many moments which, in my mind, are indicative of a possible redemption arc for Griffith in “Berserk”, or at least, a moment of redemption for him, leading into the story's finale. One example is Griffith's interaction with Rickert. Griffith not only shows no malice toward Rickert after Rickert slaps him, but he watches as he takes his leave of first Griffith's castle, and then later Falconia, and there's a real sense of nostalgia or longing in Griffith as he watches Rickert leave. I've heard people claim Griffith didn't react to Rickert's rejection of him simply because he sees Rickert as beneath his attention, but if that was true, then why does he watch Rickert leave at all? Why does he look after him as he goes? Why does he bother speaking to Rickert at all, interrupting his lunch with Charlotte and Sonia to do so? I think also the set up with Griffith blaming the emotions he's feeling on the the Moonlight boy is just that, a set up, or a misdirection. I think those emotions are actually very much Griffith's own. Griffith is looking for an explanation as to why he still seems to care about Guts and Casca, and he just assumes it's the child that fused into his vessel. This seems very much to me like a red herring, like a purposeful misdirection to throw the reader off, and like Griffith himself scrambling for an explanation for something which he didn't expect.

There’s a moment during the first Eclipse, when Femto could have killed Guts as he was being rescued by the Skull Knight, but he held back, and that's further proof, in my opinion, of Griffith still retaining his heart, and care for Guts at the very least. Femto looks at his hand afterward, as if confused, as if he doesn't understand why he held back. He thought he'd gotten rid of all his humanity, but his hesitation to kill Guts indicates otherwise. And then there's the final moment of the last chapter done by Miura, in which Griffith speaks about being left with a vague sense of longing after waking up from the Moonlight Boy's hold, and he's crying. I think those tears are Griffith's tears and his alone. The Moonlight Boy has just spent several days with Guts and Casca, and showed nothing but contentment and joy while with them. He has no real reason to be sad, in that moment. But Griffith does. Because he's been reminded of the warmth and love he felt when he was still human, and still a member of the Band of the Hawk, still their leader. Reminded of his friendship with Guts, and even Casca. Rickert talks to Griffith about how his leader is the White Hawk, not the Hawk of Light, and points out the difference in the shape of their banner. Griffith replies by saying "So it is.", almost in a contemplative manner, like he's realizing it too for the first time. Rickert talks about Griffith, how he was before, with a sense of nostalgia and respect still, and indicates that were that Griffith still there, he would gladly continue to follow him and fight for his dream. There's a very real sense during this entire exchange, I think, of hope. A kind of hopeful wish for Griffith to come back, the real Griffith, not this Christ-like figure that humanity's desire has conjured up.

Further, there’s this parallel between Griffith and Guts, and Guts, ultimately, rebelling against fate, whereas Griffith gives in to it. What's interesting is that Guts came very close to losing himself to fate, and letting himself be consumed by his thirst for revenge, but he allowed other people to join him on his journey and help him avoid it. Puck was really the first one, and it was Puck's insistence of sticking with Guts, despite his at times horrible behavior, that I think ultimately saved him. Just as, tragically, it was Guts abandoning Griffith that drove him down a path of self-destruction. I have to think if Guts had stayed with Griffith, none of what happened ever would have. I think Guts was Griffith's salvation, and the tragedy is that he left Griffith alone, and took that salvation with him. It's like if Puck had decided to simply ditch Guts after Guts' bad behavior, and left him on his own. Would Guts have found his own salvation if Puck had abandoned him too? It seems unlikely, given the path he was going down at that point in the story. He probably never would have met Serpico, or Isidro, or Farnese, or Shierk. Without those people, he would have been much more likely, I think, to give in to his base desires and become a monster. Guts needed a friend who wouldn't abandon him, and he found one in Puck. It was kind of a theme early on that Guts would do something horrible, or treat someone horribly, and Puck would insist he was through with him and not coming back. But then, he always would. He never left Guts. And I think the same is true for Griffith. He needed a friend who wouldn't abandon him, no matter what, and Guts was that friend for him. Sadly, Guts DID leave, and the reasons for that are complicated too, really instigated by Guts overhearing what Griffith said to Charlotte about only considering a man with his own dream to be someone he could consider a friend. Guts of course, as he famously told Casca on that hill, had no dream of his own at that point, no sense of direction or drive. But, in his deep admiration of Griffith, and his deep respect, he wanted desperately to be Griffith’s friend, and for Griffith to consider him a friend, and overhearing Griffth’s words to Charlotte is what drove him to leave in the fist place, to discover his own dream and, in so doing, become Griffith’s equal. The deep tragedy of this lies of course in the fact that Griffith never intended for Guts to hear those words, and that Griffith himself didn’t mean them. He may have convinced himself that he did, but already at that point, Griffith considered Guts his one and only true friend, the only person capable of making him forget his personal dream. His failure to recognize this in that moment, and Guts’ failure to recognize it too, overthinking their friendship, seeking out an explanation for Griffith risking his own life to save him, rather than just accepting and understanding it was because Griffith genuinely cared about him, Guts failing to understand that he never needed to prove himself worthy of Griffith’s friendship, and Griffith himself failing to make that clear to Guts, serves as the spark which sets all the horrible tragedy which follows in motion. Guts was always Griffith's salvation, his connection to humanity, his chance at escaping fate. So Griffith becoming Guts' salvation, becoming the reason he ultimately escapes his own fate, in the end, would be a powerful message indeed.

And I think that's exactly what Miura was planning, probably for Griffith to sacrifice himself to save Guts in the end. Guts, at least until he succumbed to it again in the latest chapter, was no longer driven by a thirst for revenge. He’d begun to find contentment and peace among his new found friends, and in caring for Casca. He’d begun, slowly, to heal. For him to take revenge on Griffith now would eradicate all the progress he's made, and plunge him back onto a dark path in which he's consumed by hate. It would make no sense for Guts to kill Griffith at this point, or to even want to anymore. So where does that leave us? I think Griffith sacrificing himself to save Guts, and showing Guts that the man he once knew and once was best friends with still exists, ultimately would be what frees Guts completely from his struggle between staying with Casca and his friends, or seeking vengeance. Griffith becoming Gut's salvation through sacrificing himself, by once more becoming that friend who would willingly and unhesitatingly put his life on the line for Guts, would be beautifully poetic, and really drive home the themes of the story, of appreciating what we have while we have it. Both Guts and Griffith lost what they already had in pursuit of their dreams, in not understanding that, in many ways, they both already had what they sought. And so I feel it would be a moment of complete realization of those themes, for both Guts and Griffith, if Griffith gives up his life for Guts, and in that moment, becomes his friend once more.

#berserk #guts #griffith

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berserk-smiles · 6 years

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#berserk #smiles #rickert #volume 10

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jacks-obsessions · 3 years

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Could I request a Griffith x reader where reader didn’t experience the Eclipse (like Rickert) and reunites with him after he’s reborn?

It all starts during the confrontation on the Hill of Swords

Once he sees you somewhere deep in his heart he feels something

A longing for your warmth, your smile, and your love again

He ignores everything else as he makes his way to you

His embrace is cold and you're not sure whether it's just from his armor or his skin

Once he hugs you he feels warmth flood his body

A shock shooting through his chest

He didn't understand

He thought he left all emotions behind but you, Caska, and Guts still invoked feelings within him

He knew that he had to take you with him even if he had to go back to Charlotte

Losing you would be his biggest failure

Part of him still cared about you

So he took you

And he keeps you by his side no matter what

#griffith x reader #berserk x reader #berserk headcanons

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Sparrow P2

MOVIE BRIGHT STAR COUPLE: SAMUEL X READER RATING: SWEET

I had been here a good few days now almost a week, he never said a word, he barely moved, barely ate or drank, it was clear his condition was as bad as I had feared it to be, and by his mannerisms it seemed like even he had given up on his own recovery. I stood in the kitchen washing my hands and going to start on some breakfast, the little maid girl here too feeding her baby the rest of the house still fast asleep.

"How was he? Before?' I asked her

"Ohh samuel? Such a king boy, so sweet, he used to play his violin beside the fire, play in the garden with his sister's, poor thing" she explained

"Who's been looking after him? Before I arrived?"

"Oh he's been under the care of dr rickert in the town" she explained

"I see, uhh how old would you estimate dr rickert to be?" I asked

"Ohh uhh late fifties I should say" she explained

"I see. Thank you" I nodded to her

"Why?" The lady of the house spoke up as she arrived "what should that matter?"

"Samuel needs treatment, and he needs it now. I can't guarantee anything, but he can make it through this, do long as I'm not limited"

"Limited"

"Whatever doctor has been treating his is an idiot" I explain "I can help samuel, so long as you trust me and don't question the things I do"

"Leave us" she told the maid and she nodded hurrying away "do you believe you can save him?"

"I believe I can."

"...I will not stand in your way, or question you, do what you have to do" she explained "but... just promise me something"

"Yes?"

"If his sickness does grow worse, and you can't help him, do not make a medical mockery of my son, if nothing can be done for him, do not let him suffer, let him go peacefully"

"I promise" I nodded

She left, leaving me alone I felt so hollow but I knew the rules when working with this illness, I made soup for breakfast and hurried upstairs sitting my mask over me before I entered the room, as soon as I did I heard his coughs shutting the door behind me. I sat breakfast on the table and began what I knew I would have to do, I ran a basin of water making sure it was warm, I went to the window and pulled back the curtains almost coughing myself from the dust that fluttered down the moment I touched them, they hadn't been moved in months if not longer quickly I forced open the window trying to push the dust out letting in the sweet fresh air cold but fresh at least, instantly I could hear the birds in the tree this window sat right beside the tree and it's branches a few nests visible from the window the birds flying by tweeting the lovely little songs.

"Sparrow." A voice spoke up I was confused but I turned and saw him laid in his bed looking out the window and at me

"I think so sir" I said back "such a sweet song" I smiled heading back to my things

"I didn't mean the birds" he said

"What did you mean then sir?"

"I call you that, I'm sorry I don't know you name"

"Y/n" I answered

"I like little sparrow better" he smiled I laughed a little coming over to his bedside "you feeling any better today?"

"Umm Humm. A little better." He nods before coughing a little

"Try to relax" I told him

"Easy for you to say, your lungs aren't trying to jump ship every time you breathe" he says

"Well hopefully you should start to feel better soon" I smiled sitting down to help feed him his breakfast as I did offering him spoonful after spoonful I got distracted by his body, he had pushed away the Sheets slightly enough I could see him more so then I usually did he sat in his loose fittings white tie shirt his chest so thin I could see his ribs, his hips he looked almost like a skeleton with one thing layer of skin and wrapped in I'll fitting clothes and a blanket he was getting worse,

"Well it won't be long till you start to feel better" I smiled.

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therandomfics · 3 years

Text

Melancholy

A song had been stuck in your head for days. Not really a song, but a line from a song, and it was going to drive you insane. Instead of the obvious, easy route, you decided to dig deep in the depths of your brain to figure out where you knew the song from... and yet, nothing.

I never felt alone... until I met you.

Finally, it dawned on you. Surely you hadn’t heard the Third Eye Blind song since you were at least 13, but it had crept back into your mind and it had planted itself there for the long haul. Deep roots, dragging you back in time to something simpler, well before you even knew what the was even about.

You opened your laptop and pulled up the YouTube website, typing in the song’s name and clicking on the first result. Four minutes later you sighed heavily and closed your laptop again. These days, it felt like all you did was sign loudly and stare out of the window between your work calls and meetings. The outside world was hardly what it once was. The streets were nearly empty, and those you did see weren’t strolling comfortably. They were rushing, point A to point B without exposing themselves to too many people. Glancing down at your closed laptop, you shook your head. Why did you think a song was going to make you feel better?

“I really thought that was going to help,” you muttered to yourself. It didn’t help, though. It was still stuck inside of your head, and it had been that way since you’d happened upon the most charismatic, charming, inviting man you’d ever met in your life. Why would someone you barely spoke with in passing have such an impact on you? You sighed again and wandered away from your room, decidedly plopping on the couch to watch TV. You had an appointment at 4:30 and that gave you just enough time to disassociate for a while. Anything was better than dealing with your issues.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” your therapist, Dr. Rickerts, greeted you as you sat down across from him and adjusted your mask. It was always fogging up your glasses.

“Afternoon,” you replied gently and fumbled with the hem of your shirt.

“How have things been?”

You shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I feel like nothing has changed. It’s the same thing every single day. Every day is the same. Wake up, log into my computer, work eight hours, clock out, go to the gym, come home, eat dinner, relax, watch T.V., go to sleep....” you trailed off with a shrug. “Then wake up and do it all over again.”

“Last week we discussed new hobbies. Did you decide on any?” he asked, jotting notes down that you wish you had access to read.

“Yeah,” you replied with a brief nod. “A few days ago, I went to a cooking class. It was so weird, because you can’t see anyone smile through the masks. Everyone’s in their own bubble. It’s depressing.”

“Have you considered that you’ve been in your own bubble since before the pandemic?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” you said dryly. Sometimes you wondered why you paid this man so much to point out the obvious.

It was clear he was frowning. The mask didn’t hide his eyebrows furrowed into a flattened v. “Do you think this is helping you, Y/N?”

You exhaled deeply and took your glasses off, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t know. I want to say yes, and I want to say no. I feel like I could get more resolution if I just went on a sabbatical.”

He laughed, short but genuine. “Where would you go?”

You leaned back and rested your head against the couch. “I think I would probably go to Greece. I need a tan. Maybe I’d learn something about Persephone or Aphrodite. I heard if you swim around Aphrodite’s rock three times, you’ll find true love.”

“Do you think true love is what you need?”

“Nah.” You paused and sat up. “But it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to talk to about my dreams, or someone to watch a movie with now and then. I feel that’s pretty reasonable, don’t you?”

He put his pen down and folded his hands together. “I think if that’s what you want, and you’re being smart and safe, it’s not bad to go for it.”

You nodded silently and then put your glasses back on. “It’s cheaper than going to Greece, too.”

“Well let’s find some healthy, safe ways for you to interact with people.”

And so the hunt was on. Maybe you should go to the cooking class that was being offered tonight. Maybe he would be there. What did he say his name was again?

Ah, yes. Sonny. Not really the most attractive name in the world, and you didn’t even know what his smile looked like yet, but... maybe you could find out.

#svu fanfiction #svu fanfic #sonny carisi fan #Dominic Carisi Jr #fan fic

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