#the redeemed | main

[fereldensheroesa]

@stella-sanguis liked for a Nimue!

Perhaps it wasn't a question she should ask. Perhaps it was a wound or a scab that she was picking at for him. Truthfully, Nimue wasn't sure how sensitive of a topic vampirism was for anyone, Astarion included. She wanted to know, though, selfishly, to see if it was similar to how she, herself, felt.

"What is it like? Craving blood, I mean. What does it feel like?"

[dcvium]

@savageshadows asked:

“The gods are nothing more than the monsters who happened to hold the pen."

"Oh, you are absolutely preaching to the wrong person about that. I already want at least---" She pauses, counting on her fingers. It's a whole hand. "Five. Five gods dead. Happy to fight them, even. Avatars or in person, don't care. Might die but I'm taking a chunk of them with me."

[ilynpilled]

not the first person to say this but the main thing for female villains when it comes to thriving to make them more multifaceted and dimensional and empathetic for an audience being “but she loved her children… but she wouldve done everything for her children…” drives me up the fucking wall. the men do not get this same treatment at all. there is so fucking much other shit you can do to make these characters sympathetic

[fereldensheroesa]

"Well, to be fair, the gods suck." The girl hadn't met or heard of a single god she liked since waking on the nautiloid. She'd fight Mystra, Bhaal, Bane, Myrkul, Shar--- there'd be a lot of fighting from a very tiny elf.

There was a little rumbling sound in her throat. Curious, feline. Her head tilted. "I don't think you need it." It was a genuine response. "I think you could hold your own as well as I could." She gave a little nod in affirmation of her words. "I think reaching for power is just... extra stuff. I don't need the Urge, Gale doesn't need godhood. I don't think you need to ascend, either."

At her response, Astarion can't help but break out into laughter--- not mockingly---but with amusement and joy. The images it provoked proved to be quite a sight. "Oh my, someone's ready to fight, even right down to challenging the gods themselves!"

He couldn't wait to begin. As long as he brought down his old master and was free for good, he figured it was worth it to help the others with their problems too. They had started growing on him. "Sounds like a plan to me! Maybe if I get the powers of the vampire ascendent for myself, I'll be strong enough to take on the gods too."

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[fereldensheroesa]

@wolf-eyes-wolf-soul liked for a Nimue.

"I hate this feeling." They'd only just set foot inside Baldur's Gate. So far, they'd run into both Orin and Gortash, as well as the glances she caught here and there. "How many here know me? How much have I done to them? What do they know of me?" That she didn't know herself. Orin was her blood kin, Bhaal her creator, and she and Gortash had clearly been close. The cult, the Absolute, the tadpoles... her fault.

[dcvium]

@whomuses liked for a Nim! (Tossing at Gale this time)

"What's your favorite kind of magic and why?" What was this? A pop quiz? Maybe. Nimue was just curious, really. Favorites really did tell a lot about people.

[fereldensheroesa]

@wildskissed asked:

“Tell me. How bad was it this time?” (for Nimue)

She was shaking, blood in her hair, on her face, drenching clothes and hands. It seemed like most of the camp had torn into her by that point. They'd woken to find the poor woman's body, Nimue sat beside it with her face in her knees. Bloodstains that would never come out. Images that would haunt them all. This was her. They shouldn't trust her.

Nimue had told them all about the thoughts. All of them. They'd all just dismissed it. Told her thoughts of killing were normal, that it was just anger, that it was fine so long as she directed it. She couldn't direct anything. And as Eve spoke, she expected another biting tone, another scolding, distrust and disgust. But instead it was a question. A question about the sickness she'd admitted to the woman.

Slowly, big brown eyes lifted to her. Nimue frowned a bit. "...I don't feel it. It's... it's gone. The nausea. The headache. They're gone." Had killing alleviated the symptoms for a bit?

[dcvium]

@starwrittenfates asked:

“ i’ll never forget their faces. i still see them every night. “ (from Hope because Bhaalspawn siblings meeting each other should be fun, especially redeemed ones.)

"You have to appease it." Knife point dug into the ground again and again, turning. Making little divots. Little holes. The elf was focused on them, like making them was the most important thing in the world. "Kill the ones who deserve it. Demons. Murderers. Cultists. Kill them and kill them and kill them. Make sure they never hurt any other innocent."

[fereldensheroesa]

@oathwilled asked:

“I know I’m not what you expected.” / nimue

There was a little rumbling sound in her throat as the tiny elf stretched out. "Are any of us?" It was a simple, small question. "I mean... I'm not what anyone expects. I think the things in my brain could give someone whiplash." Her knees then drew up to her chest. Ah yes. Even smaller. Her brain screamed murder, but her heart screamed cinnamon roll. It wasn't as if Paerin was all that odd in comparison. "Are you worried what's thought about you?"

[dcvium]

Cute? Cute was... okay? She figured it was okay. It seemed different from the 'psychotic murderer' reputation that she feared she had. She didn't want that. Never again. Had Ryn ever had a reputation like that? Had she even been Bhaal's puppet? There was no easy way to ask that and so she wouldn't.

"Other... oh! I mean, really, Orin isn't our sister, she's like... a mix between a niece and a grand-niece since Sarevok, uh, you know..." She'd read his journal. She knew. It wasn't worth repeating. "Imoen? What is she like? Teasing? At least I'm making positive changes in dating!"

"Well, Hells is a good word. Hecks, though, Hecks is just cute." It's a wonder how Bhaal managed to make his perfect murder chosen to be so dang adorable. Was Nim this adorable before her amnesia, when she was full on murderin' it up in Baldurs Gate? She had to be, right? Something like this couldn't be induced by head trauma alone.

"Don't worry, I'm only teasing. It's my SISTERLY DUTY." Ryn said, gently nudging Nimue with her shoulder. "I'm just preparing you for when you meet our other sister." She smiles, then pauses as she realises she absolutely needs to clarify a bit more. "Imoen. I'm talking about Imoen. Not Orin." Imoen was going to be thrilled to have another sister, Ryn knew. One that wasn't batshit insane - most of the time at least. A rarity in their family. ( @dcvium )

[dcvium]

@starwrittenfates asked:

❝ we saved the world. i say we party. ❞ (from Synnove)

Nimue, truthfully, wasn't sure how to do that. What did a party consist of? In her previous days, it might have been sacrifices to Bhaal, roasted dwarf or human-- or fresh--, a lovely slice of knife through flesh... The Urge may have been removed when she'd, well, died, but she was still a Bhaalspawn, still carved from his flesh.

"---I'm more of a hang out in the corner and cry person." Or something. She could see herself doing that. Wallowing in an otherness that would never go away. She didn't belong. She wasn't supposed to live.

[fereldensheroesa]

@ferinehuntress wanted a Nim!

"Honestly? I'm not certain if knowing who I am--- who I was--- makes things better or worse." They'd only just barely set foot into the city.... not even! Even reaching the outskirts had Bhaal, BHAAL!, commanding her to serve him by killing Orin. Her... kin. What even was she? Bhaalspawn, certainly... but with no mortal part to her. Carved from the flesh of murder, murder incarnate.

And then there was what had been learned at Gortash's coronation... The Absolute, the tadpoles, the brain... her fault. No... knowing most certainly made everything worse.

[dcvium]

@stellsaria asked:

"This is the problem with even lesser demons. They come to your door in velvet coats and polished shoes" [from Filarick, BG3 verse after meeting Raphael]

"It's like standing on tall things to be tall when you hate your height. But just because you dress all fancy, it doesn't make you important. Same way standing on a chair won't make me tall." Truthfully, she had no issues with her height, but she was, in fact, the best example on hand. Maybe they could just give Raphael a pat on the head and tell him that he was the bestest devil.

[dcvium]

Mouthwatering. Something within her recognized the smell, craved it. Now wasn't the time to think with one's stomach, though, and she had to figure that, perhaps, food taken from Goblins wasn't a good idea (or she would ransack the camp after slaughtering them all, that might be fun).

"We get inside first. They mentioned multiple leaders. This... Priestess Gut, then whatever a Dror Razagilin is---" That's not his name, Nim. "---And they mentioned a drow. I think the best course is seeking each out individually."

        it was certainly roasted something, and amrita was sure she didn't particularly want to know what. it wasn't a bad smell, exactly, but something about it was wrong to her senses. like some instinctive aversion to a scent that shouldn't be at all.

        amrita sighed. “yes, yes. i know. and i can play the part—trust me.” she'd been moving from one performance to the next as gracefully as she could for her entire life. this was just the next in line. “still...probably better if you take point on this one.” 

@dcvium

[thewistlingbadger]

We've been making a lot of Jesus! Viktor jokes lately but truly he looks more like Mary.