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viv-weylin · 11 months

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If fear and hunger guys had tumblr:

💰 veteran-funger Follow

Hey! Did you know the dungeons of Fear and Hunger have treasure in them! For the low price of 50 gold, I'll sell you a treasure map. Dm me on discord thanks.

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus I'll be back in a few weeks! Love you!

🍇 celeste-on-hiatus Follow

What.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I fucking hate le'garde. He keeps on having holy crusades for "Alll-mer" or something. MY WIFE AND CHILD DIED. I hate him so much. I want him dead. Sorry for the vent. It's been a tough week. I am going to track him down and kill him with my bare hands.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde isn't that bad. Calm down, the crusades had a purpose. Stop being parasocial about a guy you don't even know? Sorry about your wife but you gotta get over it. You're a full grown man.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I added "Le'garde apologists" to my DNI, leave me alone freak. Go and kiss Le'garde's ass somewhere else.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

I will! You know, they say Le'garde is in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger?! Yeah. I'm going there. Fuck you. I'll save his ass and send you pics of us together.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey guys I'll be at the dungeons of fear and hunger for a bit.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey do you guys like my dog?

💀 old-night Follow

That ain't a dog. It has twice the amount of eyes??

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Her name is moonless <3

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus how do we feel about another kid?

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

On the way to save my cutesy bf! Wish me luck!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Found some people in a cave.. gonna talk to them. Maybe they'd like to hear about alll-mer. I don't think they've left this cave before :)!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Um.. they did not like alll-mer. In other words, a blue haired guy and a small girl saved me! Wish us luck. And yes guys, i do love legarde. Idk what "comphet" is? Sorry. Is that an old god? I read about that in a book.

🌚 rher Follow

Comphet is an old god, yeah. He's the old god of denial.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Oh thanks!

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Today I almost died as a sacrifice. Though, I stopped it because I had a vision. Apparently something inside the dungeons of Fear and Hunger is waiting for me. I'll update my blog as I continue on.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

I hear screaming. Dogs barking and a man crying. I'm reading.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Something broke through the wall. I'm reading. Lots of information to bring back.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Can't get fucking quiet in this dungeon. Gonna have to leave this library and find a new one. People are so inconsiderate sometimes.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day one dungeons of fear and hunger. They gave me rotten flesh as food. Not befitting for a man such as I.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day two, dungeons of fear and hunger. They chained me up and this rather large man has been watching me. Help?

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I hear footsteps. Maybe someone's coming to save me!

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I think the guard died.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I lived bitch.

🗡 cumhara Follow

Well I left the dungeons. No treasure but I got a kid I guess.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Still reading.

🔮 nosramus-blogs Follow

Still reading.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

How to do necromancy

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why doesn't he love me

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

What is a "lesbian"

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why do i like when i see girls kissing

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde is dead.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Leaving dungeons now. I didn't save le'garde but i found out i was a lesbian.

#fear and hunger #enki #enki ankarian #cahara #nosramus #le'garde #d'arce #ragnvaldr

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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How do you think the party would react if Tav was a Fallen Aasimar? I sure it hinges on the God's aliment. What if it was a God they worship?

Reacting to a fallen aasimar Tav

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Halsin, Astarion, Gale, Minthara, Laezel]

You used to serve a god they worship/worshipped. I took some liberties with the godless characters.

Shadowheart - Selune

Assuming it happens either after the game ends or in an alternative universe where Shadowheart never abandoned Selune. Then she'd be very conflicted.

What could you have possibly done to have the most gentle of goddesses stripping your wings? Moonlight melting your silvery feathers until they're nothing but abyssal black and ash.

Her lady is wise, therefore she will be very wary of you. Yet at the same time, she can't help but feel a sense of familiarity when she looks at you. It drives away her prejudice for a moment and lets her judge you for your action, no matter how blasphemous the act of questioning her goddess's judgment might be.

Wyll - Tyr

To fall from celeste is to become a fiend. How are you any better than the devils below in the hells?

If he was his younger self, he wouldn't have hesitated to deliver you to justice, and yet the horns on his own head weight heavy like a crown paid for in a lifetime of experience. He knows better than anyone that nothing is ever what it seems like.

This Wyll is wiser, more understanding and open. He's willing to extend the same courtesy to you that he wished someone would've done to him before.

Let him hear you out, friend. Tell him what befelled this fate upon you.

Karlach - Tymora

She is more confused about how you managed to anger the smiling lady herself. It takes a special kind of asshole to turn their back on good fortune and lady luck.

An aasimar at that too? A messenger of luck?

She's never been big on the whole religion thing, to be honest with you, yet the wamrth and good fortune her goddess extended to her is still one of the best gifts she has ever been given.

So what happened? How did this even happen?

She'd never be hostile towards you nor exlude you as long as you don't do anything sinister. She genuinely belives in sharing her good fortune with everyone no matter who.

Halsin - Silvanus

Oak father preserve him. To Halsin, seeing you brings as much joy to him as seeing the shadow curse spread.

His God's teachings aren't that hard to follow, just respect the natural order and preserve all living beings. He has been diligently upholding this code through his life and spreading the teachings back at the grove.

Yet, the oak father himself marked you as an endangerment to the very being of nature. To the ancient trees and sprouting spring flowers, you reprsent the slithering all-consuming wither and rot.

He is very uncomfortable around you, not just on his guard, but you can see that he would rather be anywhere else than near you. Yet, feels like he had to keep an eye on you just in case you burn down a forest or something behind his back.

Astarion - Corellon

Honestly, he doesn't even remember worshipping the old elf or anything. He just assumes it given his previous stature and ancestry.

Not that the self-proclaimed protector of all elves has ever given him a single second of his time since he became an undead. No matter how much he prayed, it seems that the blood running through his veins barely counted anymore when it wasn't his own blood to begin with.

Fuck him, along all the other gods who turned their back on him for 200 hundred years of pure shit. It's a good thing you fell, he tells you, at least now your powers are yours alone. What's a god if not just another master to get you to do their biddings?

He is interested in you, mostly in your powers, to be more precise.

But it also encourages you to seek your own path and never think of grovelling for forgiveness or your feathers back.

Gale - Mystra

He makes a lame ass joke about if that makes him your stepfather. Dad puns included.

Surprisingly, he doesn't make a big deal out of it, even if it was before he fully got over his ex.

He's a scholar first and a lover second. He is genuinely very interested in learning about you and aasimars. Meeting one in a lifetime is a miracle. They're so rare that they're barely documented even. So imagine meeting a fallen one? He is beyond intrigued by you and your nature.

Sure, your morality might come into question, but he will worry about that later. For now, he is more interested in inspecting your wings and asking borderline intrusive questions about how serving Mystra was like.

Evil alligned deities.

Aasimars don't have many rules about them in dnd, but for one, they are classified as celestial beings. So technically, they can't ever serve evil alligned gods. It's never officially stated, tho so it is up to interpretation.

Devils or fiends serve the evil deities instead, so i thought why not make the reason the aasmire fell is because they decided to serve the evil god for the character.

In the next headcanons, falling is considered a good thing. Whoever your previous good god was that you used to serve, you abandoned them and went to serve an evil deity instead which is why you fell.

Laezel - Vlaakith

A good choice, a wise choice even. Laezel might not be versed much in the gods pantheon but she is sure whoever your old deity was, they couldn't have compared to her queen.

You have her respect, the same respect she'd extend to a kitherak even. In her eyes, you're the embodiment of the red dragon and rider knight both in one. Your wings and shinning blade speak for themselves.

She is honoured, fascinated too. Yet her admiration is a double edged sword, for she will hold you to impossible standards and consider it meeting the bare minimum.

Minthara - Lolth

She almost pities you, willingly becoming another pawn in this endless chessboard of drow conflict. Another gem to decorate Lolth's whip with as she inflicts it on whoever she sees fit.

Either you're foolishly naive or a complete masochist to dedicate yourself to the spider queen. Either way, she will test you herself to see exactly what you're made of.

As someone who abandoned Lolth, she'd be wary of anyone who serves her goddess. Yet you haven't cut off her head yet, how strange?

Minthara doesn't hide her disdain for Lolth around you, both warning you of the cruel fate awaiting you no matter how much of a good pet you're to your goddess.

For the longer you stay loyal to Lolth, the more of an endangerment you become to Minthara herself.

Shadowheart - Shar

Another child of the darkness, another sibling of the night to guide her through this journey. Shadowheart thinks your meeting was fate, a reward from her dark lady.

Especially if you saved her from the ship, she'd see you as her hero, a shining black diamond amonst the rubble and mud.

Mirroring how Laezel would've acted in fact, their dangerous fickle admiration of you that you never asked for would force a magnifying glass over both your flaws while exaggerating your achievements.

She doesn't hide her Shar worship from you this time around. She is proud, especially by you by her side. She will be your shield and recovery as long as you be her sword and wings.

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yandere--stuck · 9 months

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Can you do Yandere! Cahara, please? <3 I think he would be an interesting one

💙 Cahara hadn't exactly been the best person before delving into the dungeons. He'd been a thief, a burglar, an assassin for hire, the works. The stories he could tell… The point being: Cahara's record wasn't exactly squeaky clean. He could've spent the rest of his life like that, living adrift and moving from one job to the next, going where the work took him. But, then he met Celeste. It was meant to be a one-time encounter, but they hit it off. They kept meeting just to talk and get to know one another. And, gods Alll-mighty, he fell for her. She was with child, probably not even his own but, hell, he loved her and the child already. He wanted to take care of her. Start a family. Settle down with someone after years of being adrift. And the perfect job came at just the right time - for enough riches to take care of his family for generations, all he had to do was go into some dungeons to retrieve some guy. How hard could it be?

🔪 Incredibly. Incredibly hard. Cahara had never seen anything like this. Guards turned into horrible monsters and all kinds of other horrible beasts stalking the halls. And of course, he just had to go and get himself captured and thrown in a cell. Just his luck, huh? But just when he thought he'd spend the rest of his days in a dank, bloodstained cell… Lo and behold, his savior had arrived! You had managed to snatch a key from the hulking guards and were kind enough to allow him to join your party, the only other member being a girl you'd found locked up in this place.

💙 Now, truth be told, Cahara's initial plan was to take some silver and vials off your hands and hit the bricks while you were none the wiser, but something about you made him stick around. And not just because there was strength in numbers. Maybe it was a result of the sanity-sucking darkness of the dungeons, but something made him gravitate toward you. You were like a light in the darkness and he soon worried about trailing too far behind you or too far ahead. As you traversed through the dungeons and courtyards and prison, you slowly began speaking more and more. When you had the chance to, at least. Little things. Jokes or observations, which lead into a rapport between the two of you that seemed as easy as breathing. Just like with Celeste…

🔪 Not only that, but you made an amazing team. Usually, Cahara thought he worked best alone, but working with you in sync, like a well-made machine… It was like nothing else. When you both, not even needing to call out instructions mid-battle, struck at just the right time to send an enemy toppling and their head exposed… It was thrilling. Electric. Despite the terror found within the depths of the dungeon, Cahara couldn't recall a time where he'd felt more alive. And considering the dungeons themselves absolutely reeked with death, Cahara knew it had to be you that made him feel like this. He wasn't sure how long he'd been down in the depths with you and the girl, but already, you felt almost like another limb. He hoped you thought the same.

💙 Apparently, you were getting concerned about his state of mind. So sweet of you, always so sweet. But, the Mercenary had a feeling he was thinking so much clearer than he ever had before. He didn't need any ale or something to smoke. He just needed you. To be around you. You were his light in the dark. Someone he could tell everything to. It became so much easier to talk to you and the girl - well, chat to her, rather. You spoke of tales of old, of funny memories, of how you got certain scars… Of why you came here. His Celeste… And you did the same, spilling every detail for Cahara to soak in like a sponge. Maybe, partly, because you were scared of dying here and no one ever knowing the real you. It felt… Almost too perfect. Something preordained. Destiny. Like you and he were meant to meet. Because he was the one who was supposed to know you and love you. Cahara had never been a praying man, but the next ritual circle he saw, he prayed endlessly to Sylvian for bringing you to him.

🔪 If Le'garde was found alive, he'd quickly book up the levels of the dungeon with you and the girl in tow, all but shoving Le'garde through the halls in a frantic attempt at escape. If you try to part ways, Cahara would insist on thanking you for your help with money, or favors, or staying at his and Celeste's new manor indefinitely? He took in the girl as a daughter, too, which meant leverage over you if you were still particularly attached to the child. Cahara hoped just showing that he and Celeste wanted to provide and take care of you would be enough… But he isn't above drugging the meal Celeste's made for you (either with her knowledge and support or otherwise) and using chains or other restraints when you wake.

💙 If Le'garde is dead, Cahara would still be annoyed at the whole thing, but grateful that he was led there to meet you. So, it all works out! Cahara would try the straight forward approach to asking if you wanted to join his and Celeste's relationship not long after emerging from the dungeons. He just… He just felt like he loved you. How could he not? After all you've been through together, you couldn't just leave. You confided in him, and he in you! You snuggled together for warmth and became companions… Friends… Something more? And he told Celeste all about you, and she loved you already! Please? Please, he needed you. The children, their- your growing family needed you and… Don't fight what's meant to be. He still had that bonesaw he found down there. That place changed him. You could see it. And you had, too. Don't think he wouldn't use it to keep you with him. Safe. Together. The lights of his life. Please. You have to understand. Bearing the soul of the endless meant that his love for you, his addiction of you, was just as endless and all-consuming.

#yandere x reader #yandere fear & hunger #yandere fear and hunger #yandere cahara #cahara x reader #fear & hunger x reader #fear and hunger x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere #x reader #yandere imagines

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tellmeallaboutit · 26 days

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WIP WEDNESDAY

thank you @littleplasticrat for tagging me. I am sharing three WIPs and I am tagging @dodorimo @pouralaura @theemptyislost

WIP Nr. 1 (Raphael x Tav), tale madre tale figlia

"Is this the gentleman?" Celeste inquired, her eyes narrowing as she studied Raphael from a distance.

He was standing by the garden pavilion under the canopy of vines, enjoying a chilled glass of limoncello. Classically handsome, almost mundanely so, with the grin of a man all too pleased with himself. Erik, her husband, stood across from him, looking much less at ease.

"Less disappointed in me now, mama?" asked Judith, scoffing slightly.

"Could have been worse," Celeste replied. "Could have been better if you'd done things the right way and had a proper wedding. How old is he?"

Judith thought for a moment, trying to come up with a passable answer.

"Forty-five, I think," Judith finally offered.

"The same age your father would have been," Celeste said, half reproachful, half imagining this man as her own husband. "Looks older. Southerner?"

Judith answered each question with a slight delay.

"South of Thar."

"Old money?" Celeste's question sounded more like a statement.

"Ancient money," Judith answered.

WIP Nr. 2 (Rugan x OC), trouble at the disco (NSFW)

“You know the type you seem to be, princess?”, Rugan asked. “A spoiled brat in need of a good spanking.”

"Oh?" she replied. "And you think you're the man to give me one?"

Her slightly elvish eyes raked over him in a thorough appraisal. She hoped he would be the man to give her one.

"With that very leather belt you're eyeing up," Rugan said. "Until that pampered arse of yours is cherry red."

Margaret's breath caught in anticipation and Rugan could feel his cock stiffen at the prospect. He could almost see her imagining the sting of each blow.

"What a brute," she murmured, not without a dash of admiration.

"Somebody should teach you some respect," he growled, his hand sliding up her thigh. "Alas, I suspect the moment I pull down your frilly knickers you'll be screaming for the guards. One thing this life taught me: some risks are just not worth taking."

He reclined in his chair and exhaled deeply.

“So, sorry, lass. Try your luck elsewhere.”

WIP Nr. 3 (Gale x Tav), the Riv'vil

The human male was evidently as dense as a dwarven door.

She had made herself abundantly clear, and yet the riv’vil stood, in his wizard robes, absent-mindedly petting his chin, and said:

“Charmed. Name is Gale of Waterdeep”.

It's no wonder human males are notorious for being slow. Gathering the shreds of her patience, she attempted once more:

“I am Yvonne Barrison Del'Armgo, the first daughter of House Barrison Del'Armgo”, she said, hoisting her foot onto a boulder and thrusting forward her boot, which was splattered with the viscera of her venture on the nautiloid and needed immediate cleaning.

Even the sun-dweller should know what being the first daughter of that house meant. It meant he should drop to his knees and prostrate at her feet immediately.

The male didn't blink an eye. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed:

“You are permitted to kiss my boot, sun-dweller”.

#bg3 #fanfic #baldur’s gate 3 #raphael x tav #rugan x tav #gale x tav #my writing

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nevermindirah · 3 months

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Who talks to who, for how long and about what, in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince Bythewood?

I got curious and so I watched the movie taking a lot of timestamp notes. way back three and a half years ago now, I watched this movie for the first time bc I like gritty action movies, and it's a really good one of those. I'm still obsessed with it all this time later because it's full to the brim with well-drawn characters who have compelling relationships with each other, and boy howdy does the data show it.

I was especially curious about who spends how much time alone together on screen, so I coded all the scenes with that in mind, and I found some really interesting patterns in the breakdown of scenes where just two characters talk, where one character is the sole focus, and when three characters talk.

the winners of course are Nile and Andy, our dual protagonists, who spend 10% of the movie's total runtime alone together. they also spend a lot of time with our dual friendly antagonists, Booker and Copley. scenes featuring combinations of just these four characters make up 40% of the total runtime.

Joe and Nicky show up less in this analysis because they're side characters who mostly appear in group scenes, but wow are they richly drawn side characters. they're key players in all but two scenes where four or more named characters talk.

read on for many numbers and much analysis of what it all means!

Andy Nile 0:12:20 Nile Booker 0:06:00 Andy Booker Copley 0:05:22 Andy Booker 0:05:01 Andy Nile Booker 0:04:56 Nile Copley 0:04:18 Nile alone 0:04:07 Andy alone 0:03:31

Andy Celeste 0:02:49 Merrick Copley 0:02:41 Joe Nicky 0:02:24 Nile Dizzy Jay 0:01:33 Andy Quynh 0:01:31 Andy Nile Merrick 0:00:52 Booker alone 0:00:32 Copley alone 0:00:28 Nicky Kozak 0:00:27 Booker Quynh 0:00:21 Copley Keane 0:00:09

(the spreadsheet, if anyone's interested in digging deeper with me)

of the 12 min that our main characters are alone together on screen, almost fully half is super duper antagonistic:

4:26 is the kidnapping sequence

1:29 is their conversation outside after Nile's nightmare featuring the iconic "me and those three men in there will keep you safe" "like Quynh?"

and 7 seconds is Nile glaring daggers at Andy after walking over all those bodies in the church

the other half breaks down like this:

2:14 is them connecting over their mortal families — where Andy makes Nile give her phone back at the end

1:45 is Nile telling Andy she's not doing this, that she's going back to her family — Andy pushes with "we'd do the same for you" but then relents and gives Nile the car

50 seconds of them gearing up for the last segment of the fight — Nile tries to get Andy to wear a bulletproof vest, she jokes around with "is this gonna be like the last signal?" — it's operations-focused but there's a real warmth between them by this point in the movie (this scene starts at 1:41:45, just 13 min before the credits roll)

and 1:29 of Andy looking at Nile like she hung the moon (which, extremely valid and relatable!) and Nile saying that the time Andy's got left "you're gonna spend it with us"

Nile has an uninterrupted 4:18 sequence with Copley that speed runs the same general shape of her arc with Andy, hella antagonistic to teamwork, though the latter here is more of a professional camaraderie than the real warmth we see Nile develop for Andy.

in this context Nile's arc with Booker is remarkably different. their first scene alone together is 1:11 in total, intercut with Andy killing mercs elsewhere in the church, and it's sort of their only scene with friction between them. Booker keeps telling Nile to wait for the signal without explaining what that means, annoyingly continuing Andy's grand tradition of not fucking answering Nile's reasonable questions, ugh. though another way of framing this is of course that he's too busy packing her a change of clothes while showing off his tits for her. as I noted in a previous meta, the end of this sequence is the one time Booker lies to Nile (claiming he doesn't know who the mercs are when he has at least a basic idea, though we don't know for sure whether Copley involved him in this specific plan).

after this Nile and Booker have two more scenes alone together and they're both extended conversations: 3:14 for their conversation alone in the cave after Andy leaves, and 1:18 when Nile joins Booker on the balcony outside the bar. both of these conversations are remarkably intimate for how little these characters have interacted beforehand. remember, 6:02 total of Nile and Andy alone together with heavy animosity (Andy shot Nile in the head ffs!) before things between them started to warm up. granted, the conversation where they first start to warm to each other is right after Nile's cave scene with Booker and Andy's scene with Celeste, so an argument could be made that this was the point in the movie where Nile started to feel ready to open up to the other immortals generally and her first one-on-one conversation once she got there was with Booker before Andy. I'm not saying you have to ship them just because they get so close so quick, but the numbers sure do make it clear that us BoNers aren't making this shit up out of nowhere.

Nile and Booker's heart-to-heart in the mine is the third-longest one-on-one conversation in the whole movie — third after Andy kidnapping Nile and Nile's sequence with Copley, which are both heavy on action and exposition and antagonism, making this the longest intimate conversation in the movie. their other heart-to-heart, 1:18 on the balcony outside the pub, is on par with Joe and Nicky's 1:17 in the van.

there's also a 51 sec sequence during the Merrick tower fight where it intercuts pretty much equally between three subsets of the action: Andy going off on her own with an axe, Joe waiting for Nicky to wake up after that head shot, and Nile and Booker being drift compatible when Nile's gun jams. we're not making this shit up out of nowhere.

ok back to our blorbos in chief. we get 4:07 of Nile as the sole focus, and 3:31 of the same for Andy.

the sequence of Nile going through hell on base just because she fucking lived (laser eyes @ her squad forever) lasts 1:14 and includes a few lines from minor characters. we get 15 sec of her first dreaming of the others and waking up unmoored, then a 20 sec reprise with her nightmare of the first person she killed. the sequence of her driving away from Copley's then figuring out what the empty gun clip means is 48 sec. and then, one of the things that stood out to me the most in really digging into these numbers: just how frequently and for how long the camera lingers on Nile's face in this movie.

extended closeups of Nile with no dialogue and no montage:

10 seconds staring at the car she crushed, killing Merrick in the process but somehow not herself

36 seconds in the elevator

and a whopping 44 seconds of listening to Frank Ocean

that's fully 1 minute and thirty seconds of this movie's 2 hr 5 min credits-included runtime devoted exclusively to long takes of Nile Freeman's face.

Andy's sole-focus time is a little less tidy, because the majority of it isn't precisely focused on her like with Nile. we get 15 sec of her staring at her hand, realizing her immortality is gone. I could have coded all the pieces of the movie more granularly to find all the moments where we get Andy reaction shots, but I also could've done that with all of them and I'm but one humble spreadsheet lover, and it's more interesting to me that Gina primarily uses other kinds of film language to put us into Andy's perspective.

1:35 of her cutting through all those mercs in the church — other people are active in this scene, but they're not shown as people, and the horror of that is exactly the point, for the viewer, for Nile, and for Andy herself

41 sec of her voiceover at the opening of the movie, over clips of the kill floor scene

1 min of her moodily sitting in the car after the pharmacy and flashing back to Lykon's death

the Andy/Quynh flashback sequence that's a subset of Nicky and Joe narrating to Nile is 1:31, so counting that alongside this flashback here brings us to a total of 2:31 of Andy/Quynh(/Lykon) alone together screen time. almost precisely equal to Joe and Nicky's total 2:24 alone together.

further underlining Booker and Copley as our tritagonists, we get one scene of on-screen alone time for each of them: 32 seconds of Booker being drunk six months later and 28 seconds of Copley reacting to the kill floor footage. it's easy to focus on the Andy in a Union uniform element of this Copley scene, but a photo of his late wife is visible in almost every frame. I went back and double checked — only 3 sec of those 28 don't contain that photo of his wife displayed proudly between the kill floor footage and the Civil War photo, 3 sec of Copley in closeup. now that's what I call environmental storytelling.

we get almost exactly 5 min each with the sets Andy + Booker + Copley, Andy + Booker, and Andy + Nile + Booker. ABC and ANB conversations tend toward driving the plot and fleshing out detail about immortality, though a decent chunk of ANB in the "is this a Rodin?" part of the cave scene is Nile and Booker talking about following the money (their first moment of drift compatibility!) while Andy angsts nearby, and a decent chunk of ABC at Copley's place is Andy and Booker's heartbreaking "this is what you wanted" "not like this" exchange while Copley awkwardly hovers. just under half of Andy and Booker's 5:01 on screen alone together is about his betrayal, 2:13 across three scenes. the other half breaks out pretty evenly between them talking about Nile, making battle plans, and just being pals.

has any mid-budget gritty action movie ever done it better? even the infodumps are full of character and relationship details.

I also find it noteworthy that Booker and Copley are never alone together, and they never directly acknowledge anything about their relationship. we know from what they tell other characters that they've been in contact before the events of the movie, probably for some time in some detail. we know they worked together to ultimately enable the cartoon-villain antagonists to do their villainy. Copley is direct about how these results were absolutely not what he intended, and we can infer from Booker's behavior that he wasn't aiming for decades of medical torture either. but we get no information about how they feel about each other. now that I'm looking at it with this frame, it seems like the absence of information is itself a kind of telling — Booker and Copley maybe purposefully avoiding 1:1 contact, purposefully treating each other as mere acquaintances when others are around, because to do otherwise would be to look their guilt in the eye. oh shit I think I might have given myself a whole new meta idea on this tangent here: Copley and Booker as mirrors for each other.

disclaimer as we're nearing the end that there's inevitably going to be bias and error in something like this. I measured by seconds not milliseconds and I wasn't always precise about where I paused to note timestamps at scene changes. sometimes I included what ended up amounting to several seconds of establishing shots and sometimes I didn't. and there are a bunch of edge cases where there's more than one way to count who was an active part of which scenes, like for example:

I separated out Andy and Booker's opening motorcycle stalking and Don Quijote chat from the later part of what was probably just one scene in the script, where Booker talks to the hotel clerk while Andy interacts with tourists nearby

I included all as one Nile + Dizzy + Jay scene the sequence where Dizzy and Jay talk to each other about Nile before they go into the med tent and act shitty to her face about how Nile's still alive

I counted as Copley + Merrick the conversation in the car where Keane and Kozak are present and react on camera but don't have lines per se

similarly I counted as Andy + Booker the "she wants to talk to her family" exchange after Nile and Nicky leave the dinner table; Joe's still sitting there next to them but he doesn't say anything and the camera doesn't focus on him

I didn't try to delete the time where Andrei said/did stuff from the 4:26 Andy kidnaps Nile sequence but I did remove a Keane cut-away from a later Andy + Nile scene

so much has already been lovingly written about how well Joe and Nicky spend their short on-screen alone time and rightly so. I don't have anything new to add there so I'll take a moment instead to shout out to the 27 sec of Nicky telling Kozak to go fuck herself, and also the iconic Joe headbutting Merrick. fuck, this movie is so so good. every moment is a delight.

#the old guard #tog meta #tog #mine

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theoldguardfemslashdiscord · 2 years

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Nomination Categories

Through August and September, nominations for the Fanwork Awards on the Femslash Guard Discord Server are open!

You can nominate different things such as:

fanfiction

fanart

manips

videos

comments on your fanworks

moodboards, memes, meta and more

These groups are split up into many more categories, you can find them all on the discord server! They're also separated by sfw and adult content, so minors can be part of the event but everything can still be nominated somewhere.

Until nominations close on the 20th of September, we will introduce a few of the categories to you in more detail, and you can join the server or follow @theoldguardfemslashdiscord to hear about them and show the categories that haven't gotten many nominations yet some love!

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selunesdreams · 5 days

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Chapter 24: Spawn

“Are you under the misapprehension that Cazador made a mistake?” Astarion sneers, “It was no mistake that the one he deemed most unworthy slew him in his own home.”

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full chapter/story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+, blood, coerced substance abuse (if you squint), abuse/torture, trauma, vampire/spawn politics, criminally small amount of fluff this chapter (more next!) preexisting relationship, part of a series

Celeste lies on her side, emitting a soft groan as Astarion sidles up behind her, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck. As his knuckle drifts down the length of her waist, she shivers.

“You should rest, darling.” He purrs in her ear.

“You’re making it difficult,” she murmurs, surrendering to the sensation and closing her eyes.

He traces a path past her collarbone, looping underneath the pendant at the base of her throat, letting the necklace’s chain snake between his fingers, its golden hue glinting in the soft moonlight that filters through the window.

“Curious little thing,” he muses as he turns the moonstone over between his thumb and forefinger.

Celeste rolls over to face him. “Are you planning on stealing it?” she teases.

Astarion laughs through his nose. “Not a chance. I quite enjoy watching you incinerate our enemies,” he replies before lowering his eyes at the distant look his words elicit from her. He combs his fingers through her hair to distract her, mumbling an apology that she accepts with a contented sigh.

Unbeknownst to Celeste, he has no intention of trancing tonight or staying in bed with her as he eases her to sleep. Though she had implied she would accompany him to meet Artor tomorrow, he cannot bear the thought of her walking into that place again.

As her breathing gradually slows, her hair spilling across her face under the dim light, he takes one last look at her. A pang of longing tugs at his chest, and he carefully rises from the bed. In her sleep, Celeste whines softly, her hand extending over the mattress as if searching for his presence. He presses a gentle kiss against the back of it before quietly dressing and slipping out of the room.

He leaves the tavern, the scent of stale ale lingering in the air, past the tired barkeep, wiping down sticky counters after the evening’s patrons. The first hints of sunrise paint the sky, but if he makes good time, he can avoid daylight and navigate the sewers back once it’s light. Astarion walks at a steady pace to hide the urgency of his steps, moving like a shadow, his boots making no sound as he passes through the streets. He knows it won’t take long to reach Cazador’s old palace, but he hates being out in the open after recent events.

His mind drifts to thoughts of Celeste, her body against his, how they’d moved in the dark together, trying to distract himself from the thought of how he’d left her alone, and how she’ll feel when she wakes in an empty bed.

As he reaches the imposing gates, he cautiously scans the surroundings, the eerie silence broken only by the faint rustling of leaves. The decaying structure hints at the presence of lurking ghouls and other vile creatures. The last thing he needs is to be caught off guard.

Suddenly, a dull yet proper voice startles him from behind. He turns to find a compelled servant, their lifeless eyes fixed on him.

“Master Morlin will see you inside.”

With a nod, Astarion enters, a shiver running down his spine as he recalls the last time he crossed this threshold. The servant leads him through the palace’s corridors, each step echoing in the empty halls.

“Do you have a name?” Astarion asks, disinterested, but trying to cut through the silence.

“Master Morlin does not have use for sentimentality.”

“Typical.” He says under his breath.

They arrive at Cazador’s old office - a place Astarion was never welcome before, and he steps inside, assessing the vampire lord seated behind his former master’s desk. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room, adding to Astarion’s unease.

“Astarion, you’re earlier than expected,” Artor’s voice breaks the silence, laced with intrigue.

“I heard my presence was requested,” Astarion says, devoid of emotion, his gestures exaggerated. “Here I am.” The palace brings back memories he would rather not revisit, and he does not waste time on pleasantries.

“Sit.” Artor commands as he gestures towards a chair across from him. Astarion obeys, crossing his legs and keeping his expression neutral. He knows what he wants, but he’s in no position to dictate terms.

“We’ll discuss killing Keresta in a moment,” Artor begins, his gaze piercing. “But first, I want to hear how you killed Cazador Szarr.

Astarion raises an eyebrow. “That’s your concern?” He lets a mocking grin pull at the edges of his mouth.

“It’s not every day a vampire lord is slain, let alone by one of his thralls.”

“You think it can’t happen again?” Astarion’s tone remains calm and even, amusement dancing in his eyes as the power shifts slightly away from Artor’s favor.

“I like to learn from others’ mistakes.” Artor flashes a dangerous smile.

“Are you under the misapprehension that Cazador made a mistake?” Astarion sneers, “It was no mistake that the one he deemed most unworthy slew him in his own home.”

Artor’s chair creaks as he shifts his weight. “Cazador was strong,” he finally says, “there’s no shame in admitting you were fortunate.”

“Cazador was arrogant,” Astarion counters, his words dripping with contempt. “He was so sure he would never be betrayed that he didn’t suspect a traitor in his own halls.”

“But you had a stroke of luck, didn’t you? The tadpole freed you,” Artor remarks.

Astarion’s response is filled with a mix of resignation and defiance. “Temporarily,” he admits, “It broke his hold over me long enough for me to resist. Long enough for me to kill him.”

“And yet, you rejected ascension. You could have become the most powerful vampire in Faerûn.” Artor’s voice carries a hint of fascination.

Astarion scoffs. “I had no desire to be like him. He thought his power made him invincible, but he was just as much his own prisoner as he thought I was.”

“Poetic.” Artor responds dryly. He rises from his desk, the creak of the chair accompanying his movements.

“A foolish decision,” he continues as he paces with his hands behind his back, “But I suppose I have little to fear from a spawn who would turn down the opportunity to take power for himself.” His words hang in the air, heavy with a sense of superiority. “So I’ll allow a temporary alliance to form between the two of us.”

“Very gracious of you,” Astarion grumbles, “and what do you require in return for this alliance?”

“A couple of things. But first,” Artor opens a box on his desk, the hinges squeaking softly, and produces a small gold ring. The metal glimmers in the light, casting a soft glow in the dim room. “I believe you wanted this? Consider it a gesture of good faith.” With a casual flick of his wrist, he tosses the ring to the rogue, who deftly catches it between two fingers, eyeing the ring a moment before slipping it into his pocket.

Skepticism lingers in Astarion’s features as he asks, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch. That ring is no more than a child’s plaything. Not sure what you want with it.”

“You mean besides it allowing me to walk in the sun?” Astarion asks, raising an eyebrow.

Artor lets out a bark of laughter. “You were fooled then too, boy. The books are misleading.”

Confusion taints Astarion’s tone as he demands, “Then what is this?”

Artor’s response is matter-of-fact. “It allows you to see in the dark. Not walk in the sun. It illuminates, but does not protect. Perhaps it could serve as a thief’s tool, but I’m doubtful you’d need such an aid to begin with.”

Astarion feels hollow. The ring might as well have crumbled into ash in his hands, the same way he would under the sun. He’s been played, and the worst part is that deep down, he kind of knew it.

Regaining his composure, Astarion speaks again. “So this alliance then, what do you want from me?”

“To kill Keresta,” Artor responds, his voice carrying a hint of intensity.

“That was my plan, anyway.”

“Yes, but I want you to be successful. I have some information for you.”

Astarion’s wariness grows, his senses on high alert. “What kind of information?”

“She’s following Celeste for several reasons,” Artor sits back down, “But one, as I’m sure you’ve deduced, is that she wants that moonstone you took from Sorcerer’s Sundries.”

Astarion’s eyes widen, his mind racing with the implications. “How do you know about that?”

“I have people everywhere,” Artor states confidently. “Do you even know what the stone does?”

Astarion shakes his head, a mix of curiosity and embarrassment washing over him.

“It’s called the Tear of Selûne. It enhances the power of all magic in its vicinity. Shar has sought it out for centuries in an attempt to gain an advantage over her sister. And your lover now has it in her possession. She even wears a piece of it around her neck - I could feel it when she was here earlier.”

Astarion sits in silence, digesting the information. It would make sense that Keresta would be after something so powerful. Memories of Celeste and the charm around her neck flood his thoughts, the object he had idly played with just an hour ago.

“This information is in exchange for what, exactly?” Astarion asks.

“We cannot allow Keresta to wield such power. That Sharran brat will not challenge me. If you eliminate her, I will assist you in becoming a true vampire. It may not be ascension, but you will be more than a wretched spawn.”

Astarion leans back in the chair, weighing his options. He hates being beholden to anyone, relying on them for power or otherwise. But becoming a proper vampire would remove vulnerabilities…

No. There’s always a catch.

“I’m not interested.” He firmly declares.

“It matters little to me,” Artor says, inspecting the back of his hand. “Nevertheless, before you depart, I will require something of you.” Artor snaps towards the door and a servant hurries in with a chalice of blood.

Astarion catches the scent before he sees the source, freezing in recognition. It is the same scent that lingered in the blood of Keresta’s thrall when they first met.

He stares at the chalice. “You want me to drink bloodroot? To prove what?”

“I keep a substantial supply on hand. It leads my enemies to believe I am addicted, too consumed to pose a threat. I don’t need you to prove anything, spawn. I simply wish to witness the true nature of your blood rage,” Artor explains.

“Absolutely not.” Astarion says.

“You misunderstand...if you refuse me, you will not leave this place alive.”

Astarion scowls. Artor wants to see his fury? Fine. So be it.

Without uttering another word, he raises the chalice to his lips and takes a measured sip.

The taste of Celeste’s blood had been remarkable, but this, this is different. This was an ecstasy like he’d never known. He drinks voraciously, feeling the burning sensation of the bloodroot as it slides down his throat, heavy on his tongue. He gulps the blood down and slams the chalice on the desk, seething.

“You must have been obedient for Master Cazador. What’s the phrase? Old habits die hard?” Artor mocks.

“Yes, yes, I was, damn it all,” Astarion growls, pressing against the desk, struggling to maintain control. He feels himself slipping away, his thoughts clouded by the drug.

“It’s alright to admit that you’re enjoying it,” Artor taunts, his smile widening. “It’s in your nature to do so.”

“Shut up!” Astarion snarls. “Don’t think I’m going to become some faithful thrall of yours.”

“I have no interest in that. But it will show me how vicious you can be.”

Artor snaps his fingers again and two sets of hands seize Astarion and pull him backwards out of his chair. Artor watches with a smug grin.

“Let go of me!” Astarion struggles against the other spawn, cursing and threatening them. He feels the bloodroot reducing him to nothing more than his base urges, guided by a few shreds of his consciousness. And the sight of Artor smiling sends him into a murderous rage.

He’s dragged down the hallway to a familiar door, a room full of chains and tools of torment.

Where Godey would flay him for days.

Where he spent a year in darkness.

Where Cazador carved those scars into his back…

Chains snap around his wrists, old familiar foes, and he thrashes against them. Shoes click against the stone floor as Artor appears in the doorway.

“Now what makes you so special…” Artor muses before he slices a line across Astarion’s sternum with a sharp fingernail. Blood trickles down his stomach, pooling underneath his shirt, and Astarion winces.

“It’s time you learn your place, spawn. You need to be humbled. Let the bloodroot in, let it teach you that you’re nothing more than an animal.”

“How long do you plan to keep me down here?” Astarion growls.

“It will wear off in a few hours,” Artor says, disinterested. “Make yourself…comfortable.” The door slams as the spawn exit behind him, leaving Astarion in darkness.

Alone.

Astarion snarls and slams himself against the chains, screaming at the world and himself in equal measure.

Time passes, he doesn’t know how much. Eventually, he slumps against the wall, his mind in turmoil and his body aching in a thousand different ways. His throat strings from thirst and screaming himself hoarse.

“Astarion!”

Celeste’s voice snaps him from the verge of unconsciousness as she slams open the dungeon door and rushes to him.

“What are you doing here?” He croaks, “Celeste, he’ll fucking kill you.”

“Gale and the others have him occupied. Come on.” She struggles with his restraints.

“I’m too weak to run, I’ll find you later…” he rasps. She looks him over, assessing his condition.

“You need blood. Here.” She offers him her wrist, holding herself against the lower half of his hanging body. Astarion hesitantly brings his mouth to her skin, holding her gaze, before biting down.

The bloodroot in his veins roars and he gulps down mouthful after mouthful. Celeste begins to turn white, the life draining from her face.

“Astarion, wait, you’re killing me…” she says weakly, but he can’t stop, he just watches her die.

All because of him. All because he can’t stop…

Until she just…vanishes.

The room comes back to him like a watercolor painting, his head pounding and body howling for blood, more intensely than ever before. Those familiar footsteps, that godsdamned familiar tapping, echo through the hall before the lock clicks and the door swings open, metal whining against its hinges.

“Hallucinating?” Artor asks as he saunters in. “I could hear you screaming from my office.” His tone is one of derision and disgust, the kind Cazador would reserve for slaves. Astarion growls and lunges against his restraints once more.

“Did Celeste tell you I was different from Cazador? That my intentions were pure? That I was on your side?” Artor’s stare is cold and calculating as he assesses Astarion like a cruel experiment. “We are allied because I need something from you. Remember that, boy. Don’t get in my way once it’s finished.”

“I know...what you are,” Astarion hisses, his voice laced with defiance. The taste of blood fills his mouth, the acrid taste of bitterness lingering on his tongue, and he spits, staining the floor at Artor’s feet. “Do you have information for me about Keresta, or should I just run from here and hunt her blindly?”

Artor’s laughter fills the room, a cruel sound that reverberates against the walls.

“Straight to the point. I like that about you.” Artor takes a step closer. “Keresta went back to Waterdeep. She’s planning an attack on one of Lathander’s temples before she launches another on the Temple of the Moon in a fortnight. That should give you time.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow. “You should run while I handle Keresta. Once she’s dead, I’m coming to tear your head from your shoulders.”

Artor smirks. “I’d love to see you try.” He seizes Astarion by the throat, speaking through gritted teeth. “This may have been your home once, but you’ll never walk through those doors again and live to tell the tale. Get out of my sight.” Artor thrusts Astarion’s head back and waves his hand dismissively, a sharp gesture that commands the entrance of the servants.

“Gladly,” Astarion looks Artor square in the face with bloodstained teeth. “This was never a home to me.”

The servants unchain him, cold metal biting into his skin as he falls to the floor. His body trembles with the effort to stand.

Astarion stumbles past Artor, down the dimly lit hall, anger coursing through his veins, fueling his every step. He barely makes it out the gates before careening into the side of a nearby building, dizzy and exhausted.

“Godsdamnit.” he mutters to himself.

Rough brick scratches against his palms as he slides to the ground, and then everything goes black.

a/n: thanks for reading! Please like/reblog/kudos/follow/interact on AO3/whatever if you did? It helps so much!

Full story on AO3

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate oc #spawn astarion #baldurs gate astarion #forms of imprisonment #formsofimprisonment #bg3

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my-gaydar-is-on-point · 2 years

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Nile & Nile/Celeste Halloween icons!

More TOG & other Halloween icons

Bonus Celeste:

Like&reblog if you use!

#tog halloween #mgdiop #my repost #nile freeman #old guard #the old guard #tog #nile/celeste #mgdiop halloween edits #celeb repost

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yeastinfectionvale · 2 months

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Celeste knew she wasn't the typical girl that Bez went for.

Bez went for the long-legged blue eyes girls with sliky hazel hair and soft hands that never touched a car engine, let alone a wrench. Cele had calloused hands and her hair was far from silky, always tied back so she could work. The girls would tap their perfectly manicured fingernails against Bez's phone giving their numbers to her. Celeste was 85% sure she had break fluid trapped under the stubs she called nails. Those girls had their life put together while she was working two jobs and reading tarot cards trying to make sense of the future.

When Bez revealed that her attraction wasn't just to guys, Celeste felt a little flame of hope spark in her. The years of pining now had a chance of coming true. But that flame slowly flicked to embers as she watched different girls flirt with Bez each weekend. She had thought about dressing up like those girls but it felt like she was betraying herself. If Bez wanted her, truly wanted her then she would want her now as she was. She couldn't have her romanticly, but Celeste sure as hell wasn't going to lose Bez as a friend. So she swallowed her feelings and went on the lunch dates.

It was dark outside as the pair sat inside Cele's bedroom. Celeste sat on the bed as Bez lay on her side. It was way too late but neither wanted to fall asleep.

Celeste shuffled her deck, hyperaware of Bez's eyes on her. Bez already had the routine Catholic panic that most seemed to have. The clutching of the cross when they realised that the cards in Celeste's hands were in fact tarot cards.

"Marcolina." she said, her doe eyes on show, "pick a card." Bez hesitated, her grandmother screaming in her ear. She shook her shoulders and reached out pulling a single card. Celeste gently held her wrist, flipping it to reveal what card she had chosen.

the lovers.

Celeste stared at the card as Bez made a low noise. She hadn't realised how similar the two lovers depicted in the card looked like her and Bez. The couple stood naked on an open mussel, frozen in an embrace, one kissing the other on the neck passionately. Had Marcolina noticed? Cele looked at her, scanning her face for anything. "The lovers." She began as Bez continued to look at the card not moving. "A relationship might start, but it will come with a sacrifice." Bez looked up. "Gain one lover but lose the freedom to find others." Bez hummed and the air crackled with nervous energy. Both of them stayed silent. Celeste tapped her deck thrice and packed it away back into its velvet pouch.

She lay down next to Bez, eyes up on the sky. "You have anyone in mind?" Bez asked. Celeste shook her head, "no. You?" Bez wiped a hand on her face. "Yeah." Celeste froze as Bez continued. "Known her for ages, haven't got the confidence to tell her though."

Who was this bitch that made the Marcolina Bezzecchi unconfident?

Bez glanced at Cele for a second before continuing. "She's so smart, I've seen her solve problems that old men couldnt." She could fix engines that old men couldn't, could this girl do that?

"Her hair is coffee brown and her eyes are so beautiful." Her hair was brown, just not coffee brown. Celeste contemplated dying her hair at that moment. "- and I don't know what to do. If I tell her and she rejects me? I don't know what I'd do, I don't want to lose her as a friend. What should I do?" Bez continued unaware that Celeste was mentally beating the shit out of this girl.

"tell her how you feel." Cele whispered, the embers of hope in her chest fading out. Bez lay silently, her hands dancing on her chest as she thought. She then turned, looking at Celeste with an unidentifiable look in her eyes. Something was mixed with fear, something passionate.

Bez brushed some stray hairs off Celeste's face. "Marcolina? Wha-" She began as Bez kissed her. She was caught off guard for a second before she sneaked her arms around Bez's neck. They pulled apart and Celeste could feel her head spin. Bez bit her lip and leaned in again. This time Celeste was prepared, one of her hands tangling itself in Bez's hair, pulling ever so slightly. Bez groaned into Cele's mouth, her hands finding Cele's waist, pulling her in even closer. They pulled apart again, lips puffy and hair wild. Bez leaned her forehead on Celeste's. "Be mine." She mumbled. Cele left a confused noise out. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Bez asked clearer as Celeste nodded happily, peppering Marcolina's face with kisses.

They stayed that way, kissing and laughing before falling asleep, tangled in each others embrace. Celeste woke up alone, embarrassed that she could even imagine Bez confessing her love. She got up out of bed, ignoring the tarot card on her side table.

Downstairs Bez stood in the kitchen, making breakfast for her girlfriend. Celeste walked downstairs and saw Bez dancing around. She greeted Bez, who kissed her softly. She stood starstruck for a second before tucking herself into Bez's side, the small flame in her heart now a forest fire.

#professional yapper #wrench to the heart

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autumntouched · 10 months

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I’m still coming up for air but wrote a little something if you’re interested…

Meet Celeste Elena Seresin-Trace

Natasha startles awake, unsure when she drifted off. The house is more quiet than it’s been since she and Jake brought Celeste home. Her mom and Gabby must be out, leaving the new little family alone.

Jake sits with Celeste cradled in his lap, her head supported tenderly in his large, capable hands. His leave is so short that he’s not wanted to miss a moment of the exhausting cycle of diaper changes and feeding and hours spent staring at the tiny, sleeping being they created, treasuring every shift, scrunch, and wrinkle of her delicate features. She already has Natasha’s darker hair (oh the heartburn!), but her eyes have yet to settle. Jake would have to pry it from her, but she hopes Cici ends up with his green eyes. Spending so much time taking care of the baby also means he hasn’t shaved since the day they went to the hospital, and Natasha is fully appreciating the rare shadow of facial hair on her husband.

He doesn’t seem to notice she’s awake just yet, and Natasha keeps her eyelids lowered to listen to the soft conversation he keeps up with their daughter. “Don’t tell your Mama, Cici, but you might be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Of course, she’s neck and neck with you because I’m one lucky guy.”

Celeste’s tiny arms jerk in response to his words. It will be several weeks before her smile is more than a muscle reflex, but Jake insists that she smiles the most at him.

They’d had several first names picked out for her, although Jake was adamant from early on that he loved Natasha’s middle name and wanted to pass it on to their daughter. Elena means “light” and that’s what his two girls are in his life. He’s probably figured it out by now, but Natasha can’t resist Jake when his sweet, sentimentality slips past his cocky guard.

Celeste is perhaps a little on the nose for a girl with pilots for parents, but they both liked how pretty it sounded and how the vowels of her full name sailed so smoothly along the tongue. Natasha still chokes up remembering Jake murmuring it to her while he cradled her to his bare chest in the hospital, his hands then still slightly awkward as he adjusted to holding so tiny a person. Having a baby has turned both of them into saps.

“Whoa there, Ci,” he yelps quietly when Celeste jerks. “Strong as Mama already. No one’s going to mess with you, are they? And don’t worry, Daddy won’t let them.”

God help whoever dares mess with their little girl, Natasha thinks. Especially if she has Jake’s wit and penchant for verbal annihilation. They’re going to get a pair of tongue lashings they might never forget. Or recover from. The thought makes her huff a laugh, and both Jake and Cici look over at her at the same time.

Cover blown, Natasha fully opens her eyes. “I am not bailing you out for harassing a four year old at daycare,” she capitulates.

Celeste’s mouth opens and closes now that she knows Natasha’s awake, and Jake reluctantly relinquishes her to be fed. They learned quickly that their daughter will give them a short grace period to notice she’s hungry before she unleashes a full blown, bleating scream for food.

“I would never harass a child,” Jake scoffs. “Just have a firm conversation.” He helps her adjust the pillow to support Celeste while she eats. Natasha has only enough attention to spare to give him a skeptical look as Cici becomes more impatient about being fed. The defensiveness melts from his face, and he brushes her damp hair from her forehead to place a tender kiss there.

Natasha feels pretty lucky too.

#hannix fics #hannix football rivalry #Hannix football rivalry baby #Hannix football family #natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin

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