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#tav Nemises
photochoco · 5 months
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photochoco · 6 months
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Gave Shadowheart a new outfit to complete her conversion to Selune and Ma'am,,,,,,,,,I cannot stop staring
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photochoco · 6 months
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When I tell you this scene made me tear up
I also realized too late I accidentally locked myself out of her romantic swimming scene cuz I never found out she can't swim so this is the next best thing ;0;
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photochoco · 7 months
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Astarion suffering Third Degree Yearns
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photochoco · 5 months
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This was THE funniest .5 seconds of the game so far for me the way his face dropped into UTTER shock
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photochoco · 4 months
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Nemy and Shadowheart after Astarion reveals once again shows he's not paying attention to anything that's happening
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photochoco · 8 months
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Nemises covered in blood is a very sexy look
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photochoco · 6 months
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Recently realized Astarion is the only companion who is almost always looking at Nemises whenever she's talking to someone
The other companions will also do it on occasion but Astarion is the only one who does it every time
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photochoco · 6 months
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Nemises: [having the absolute worst migraine of her life] Astarion and Gale: aahhh the sun's in my eyes ugh
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photochoco · 6 months
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The Grossed Out Gang, the Ew Yucky Squad
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photochoco · 6 months
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Astarion and Shadowheart: I think I hauve covid,
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photochoco · 6 months
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I played a week or so in-game with Nemy's Oath broken and she was the grumpiest I've ever seen her
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photochoco · 6 months
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Reclamation of the Oath
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photochoco · 7 months
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Testimonials to a broken oath
When Nemises (Tav) breaks her oath freeing the 7,000 spawn from Cazador's dungeon, one of her companions, newly free and ever in love with her, has some thoughts of his own regarding the matter.
(A drabble written from the perspective of Astarion after Nemises, my Paladin Tav, makes a fateful decision.)
The benefits of having a smaller party meant they were able to slip out of the Szarr palace without much notice. None of them were quite aware of how much time had passed in that shadowed, acrid, foul place. When they did push their way out through the door they had entered, the sun, the lovely sun, was already nearly finished with its descent below the horizon, signaling the arrival of another night. 
The air of the lower city was not the freshest, full of smoke and heat and a stink that made them all almost long for the wilderness where they had found each other. But now, after spending what had evidently been hours in the underbelly of Cazador’s wretched abode filled with centuries of stagnant air that reeked of death, it was as sweet as any ambrosia. 
Karlach shifted the weight on her back. Through their slow ascent up too many stairs- truly far too many- Nemises had not awoken. She’d barely even stirred. 
It was a memory still fresh; Astarion, unsure of what to do with the staggering number of spawn, turned to Nemises for advice, his dead master’s staff white-knuckled in his hands. There had been a moment of ponderance, or maybe of hesitation, before she voiced her opinion. 
We should free them. They deserve a chance, like you. 
And so Astarion did. The cell doors swung up, the starving spawn swarmed around the other six, and at Astarion’s behest, they all left quietly, to the Underdark. A decisive act of mercy and compassion in a place that had, up until that moment, been so utterly devoid of it.
What happened next, happened fast. 
Nemises doubled over, wracked with chest spasms. A gasp of shock rolled into a groan of pain as she was driven to her knees. Then, a figure appeared. A tall, imposing knight in full armor, eyes glowing an ethereal red, gloved hands resting on a massive greatsword.
“You have broken your oath, paladin.” 
The figure disappeared with the promise of waiting for her at the end of day, at their camp. It left her, with Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion in that quiet place.
“What have you done?? What have you done?!” It was Astarion who shouted first, turning on Nemises. 
He didn’t know much about paladins and their oaths, but knew enough to be aware that whatever had just happened was bad. Her oath, broken, because she decided to- 
“I— I told you we should have let them die!” He couldn’t stop the words that burst forth. “Look what that did! Gods, why…why do you always have to be like this?! Things would be so much easier if you didn’t have such a godsdamned bleeding heart!”
“They…deserve a chance…” Nemises wheezed out. Her face had turned a sickly color, a sheen of sweat across her brow. “You…you wanted to kill them…to ease your shame. That…isn’t a good reason. You’re…better than that.” 
“"And you're not letting them live for the same reason? To erase your own shame and guilt for something from your past? Not everyone is a little feel-good passion project for you!"
“Astarion, that’s enough!” 
Astarion jolted to hear Shadowheart finally speak. She knelt next to Nemises, holding her close, cradling her as she panted for breath. And she glared at him. It didn’t last, however, as her angry visage sputtered out and she turned her attention back to her partner. She tucked Nemises’ hair behind her ear and spoke soft words of reassurance.
Nemises’ face, covered in blood, screwed up in agony as another shudder wracked her body. “I…I…”
“Hush, love,” Shadowheart murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow. “Just breathe.” 
Nemises mumbled something incomprehensible before her eyes rolled and she slumped, passed out, against the ex-Sharran. 
“That was a bit out of line, soldier,” Karlach murmured to Astarion. “You know she meant well. She always does.” “Let's…” Astarion swallowed. “Let’s just get out of here. This place stinks of death and I want to feel alive again.”
— — — 
That had been nearly three days ago. And Nemises still hadn’t woken. The party moved to the Elfsong Tavern; they were lucky enough to snag the entire top floor for a mere 200 gold. It was a far cry from the camping conditions they’d put up with for weeks, this had closed walls, a roof over their heads, and privacy. 
Luckier still, to have a comrade in someone as wise as Jaheira, who had fought alongside many a paladin before, and seen her fair share of broken oaths. 
“Sometimes, the paladin can pass out from the shock,” she had said. “From how I know it, a paladin’s oath is a cause they swear to with their very soul. A promise made that deeply, when broken, does something to them. She is young, and clearly embodied her oath wholly and fully. She will likely be unconscious for a few days. All we can do is watch over her until she wakes.”
This was confirmed by a book Gale had found in the camp inventory, one Nemises had apparently found and stored with the rest of their reading material. A book on Paladins and Oathbreakers. 
Jaheira was right; breaking an oath literally ripped out a piece of the paladin’s soul.
Astarion left Karlach and Shadowheart to fill everyone else in on the blanks as he went to wash the remnants of Cazador’s blood from his body. To be honest, he didn’t really remember most of that first night. Or the second. The numbness hadn’t gone away, even after he climbed to the top of the tavern to watch his very first sunrise as a free, truly free man. The rays of first light washed slowly over his face, his neck, his body, his hands, but it did nothing to chase away that numbness that had settled into a hollow pocket in his chest.
Numb.
Everyone in camp was now well aware of what Nemises had done for the spawn, for him, and the sacrifice she had made. She was still asleep, made comfortable in the softest bed available in their private quarters. Shadowheart insisted on caring for her, but it became clear very quickly she was reluctant to leave her self-assigned post. She shooed away anyone who offered to take over. 
Eventually, however, seeing Shadowheart’s head bob to her chest then jerking up one too many times got to him, and Astarion stood and walked over to her.
“Shadowheart, let me take over.”
“A-Astarion?” The cleric looked up with a start. Her eyes were bleary, face puffy. It was evident she’d barely slept at all. 
“You’ve been at it ever since we got back. Take a break.” “But-” “I can handle it. I only need to trance. You look dead on your feet and it isn’t a good look for you,” Astarion interrupted. “Imagine how Nemises will feel when she wakes up and finds out you didn’t take care of yourself at all. She’ll have a fit!”
“Keep up those jokes like that and you’ll be the one who’s dead where they stand,” Shadowheart retorted. There was no real bite behind it; the two of them enjoyed such a manner of dark banter, even now was no exception. “I’ll let you know if she begins to stir. I promise.”
Shadowheart stood up slowly, wobbling, and made her way to her own bed. Astarion watched as she collapsed onto the comforter unceremoniously and was out in half a breath.
The air was quiet, save for the muffled hustle-bustle of the tavern below them. But even that seemed far away now and Astarion sat down next to Nemises for his vigil. Her face was peaceful, her chest rose up and down steadily beneath the covers. The blood was wiped clean and the bruises almost faded. Her arms were resting nearly atop the comforter.
It was smart on Nemises' part to bring Shadowheart to the fight. It had been short but utterly brutal, and plainly speaking, they'd made it out by the skin of their teeth. Had Shadowheart not been there, with her healing spells, and Nemises, with her Healing Radiance, they all might have died down there.
Astarion suppressed a shudder to remember how Cazador had nearly sucked the life from Nemises with Blight after beating him just about within an inch of his life. His pointed teeth grit; the bastard was dead, forever, yet he still had the gall to haunt him both waking and sleeping like this??
He sat there, feeling swallowed by the silence.
“You paladins…none of you make sense,” he heard himself say. “You act like your oath alone makes you better than everyone. Placing yourselves on a pedestal of self-righteousness. Being so nice, so moral…I always found it pathetic.
He gazed down at her. 
“Then there was you. The true poster child of paladins, you're as goody-goody as they come. Avoiding violence whenever possible and whenever you did thrust your sword into someone, there always had to be a good reason. Even back in Cazador's palace, you held me on such a short leash. A paladin in the castle of a vampire lord, determined to help kill him, what a tale that would be, hah! He took another deep breath. “I always figured you felt guilty for something. After all, that’s the only reason people are ever nice. They either want something from you or are trying to make themselves feel better.
“And when it came down to it…” his clenched fists shook in his lap. “You somehow talked me out of the ritual. Out of all that power. Because you thought it wasn't worth it to sacrifice all those souls. You, the golden paladin, always tough to swallow, always! With that defender of the helpless and the hopeless act. Trying to save me from myself.
It was over. It was done. Why was he still dwelling on this? 
“Except I see now it isn't an act. Gods, that makes it even more unbearable.”
He stared at her, feeling something inexplicable, ugly, breach like a bubble in his chest. 
“Why do you care for others so much? You've barely asked for anything in return, ever. People should be on bended knee for you, thanking you with everything they have, all the money and protection and power in their possession, for what you do. 
“You saved a grove of refugees and lifted a century-long curse. Helped countless strangers with all manner of problems. You encouraged Wyll to choose himself and free his soul. You helped Lae’zel and Shadowheart turn away from their goddesses who sought to use them. You helped fix Karlach’s engine so she has a little bit longer left. You persuaded Gale to not blow us and himself all up in some giant self-sacrifice to appease his goddess. And you helped me kill my master, something I never thought possible. You freed me. Not once did you ask for anything in return.
Astarion chewed the inside of his lip before he reached out and took her hand. It was so warm in his, he could feel it seeping into his flesh like a ray of sunlight.
"I still don't understand why you did that, when it did.... this to you. I always thought you were too kind for your own good, how many times has that bleeding heart of yours nearly been the end of you...? Yet, if you weren't this kind, would you even be you...?"
Guilt snaked its way inside, twisting with the sorrow. Why had she done so much for him when he’d given her nothing but trouble from day one? Why had she continued to show everyone, including him, such unfettered kindness even after she had seen the worst parts of him, his worst shames? She helped and supported and fought for everyone, but when she did it for him, it cost her a piece of her soul. 
He wasn’t worth that. He wasn’t. Why did she so stubbornly refuse to see it?? 
Astarion brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it.
“I still don't think I can be what you see in me. Even if I'm more than what he made me to be, that doesn't amount to anything at all.”
Gods, why did he feel so lost? So uncertain? What would Nemises be like when she woke up? If her kindness and compassion were tied to her oath, and it was broken, would that part of her be gone too? What if his sun had gone, because of him?
…Surely…surely it had to persist beyond it. Surely…it had always existed, and it was that warmth that made her oath strong rather than the other way around. After all, she was the only one. No one else had a heart like her. 
She…who shone brighter than the sun itself. 
The stairs creaked, and Astarion heard Karlach’s peppy voice floating upwards. The group was back from shopping. Hopefully they managed to find something fresh for him as well- 
He squeezed Nemises’ hand one more time before carefully laying it down to rest upon the comforte. A moment’s hesitation, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear- 
He didn’t get the chance before Gale cleared the last step, arms heavily laden with supplies. Shadowheart’s head jerked up with a start, noticed who it was, then promptly flopped back down into the pillows again. Astarion’s hand similarly jerked back into his lap and he busied himself with pretending he’d picked up where he left off with his book. 
His head felt a little clearer now, as did his heart. If not just a little. He hoped, when she woke up, Nemises’ would, too. And when she woke up, he would thank her. Properly.
I’d like to try for you.
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photochoco · 7 months
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Nemises chose to free the 7,000 spawn trapped in Cazador's dungeon and paid a heavy price for it a price she'd pay again in a heartbeat
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photochoco · 7 months
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two bad bitches standin back to back keep scrolling
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