portrait of white

          "You see it too. For me, it's always like this."

Multi-Muse OC Blog heavily featuring LGBT+ themes of love, loss, and healing. Featured OCs:

DISTRA REVARE (FFXIV)

ILLMIRIUS MALAGHYM (FFXIV)

KIRAN (DND)

   “YANNICK.” The dragon-human approaches his husband. A cup of freshly brewed tea, Yannick’s favorite, set in front of him on the table. There is a smile that Illmirius offers to his beloved, before a worried face, then a sigh. End of the world. What a thing for them to all know now. And even more is the two of them potentially being sent to Gods know where to save their tiny planet. It terrified him, and although Illmirius tried not to show it, he was horrified of the unknown beyond the stars. “I... I made your favorite!” He chirped, sitting in front of the elezen. “I hope you like it.” 

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The lies are so obvious, Kerrian has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You should try harder if you wish to lie to a drow’s face. I’m sure I needn’t explain how we are. You would soon find yourself taken advantage of where I grew up.” Or dead. 

Here come the outbursts again. There’s no mistaking it now – this child is traumatised. By what, he can’t say. “Trust doesn’t come easily, I take it ?” He says dryly, eyebrow quirking up. They remind him of how he was a few hundred years ago. Not a good thing, considering how unstable he was then. ‘You are correct, however. I cannot. Never in all my studies have I come across something quite like this. By all accounts, we should now be Mindflayers. Thus I can only assume something or someone is meddling to stop the transformation.” He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like knowing something is inside his head. His mind was his own, not some accursed creature’s. 

The sooner it was gone the better. “Tsk. I am no fool. Though I offer help, do you truly believe I’ll rush into things blindly ? Particularly given our current situation.” Kerrian feels so weak. It disgusts him to find himself reduced to such low power. The second the thing limiting his magic was gone was the second he’d destroy the one behind it. 

Their final comment causes deep red eyes to meet the other’s. Though Kiran doesn’t provide the answer, Kerrian already knows what they mean. Cold laughter rings out in return, expression hardening. “I do not fear death, child, for I have already seen Hell.” Lived through it. The physical abuse, the manipulation, the hatred. Small parts of what shaped him when young, a weight carried to this day. “If you wish to scare me, you’ll need to do better.” 

   There was almost a snarl from Kiran’s lips before quickly returning to a neutral appearance. A hand wrapping around their marked wrist. Brows furrowing at the fact Kerrian did not so blindly bow to their whims. Did not take what they spoke at face value. Saw through them. It made them feel deranged. More so than usual. “As if that isn’t already the case.” It was easier when the other was in control.

   Kiran shrugged. To them, it could be the power of Mammonn that kept them as they were as both the tadpole and had bid for power. The others were strange enough that a tadpole could hardly affect them, such as their other warlock friend. For the more normal.. they weren’t so sure. “Yes, some other god. Absolute, or whatever.” They sighed, waving their hand back and forth. “As if I don’t have enough Gods on my plate.” Kiran eyes rolled, meeting Kerrian’s again. 

Needless to say, he’s a little surprised by the sudden outburst. Surprised and, dare he say it, mildly concerned ( his expression never shows it, however ). “Kill you ? Why would I do that ? Have you given me reason to ?” Raising an eyebrow, Kerrian scoffs. “Do not misunderstand me, Kiran, I have killed for very little before. But no, I will not murder you in cold blood over something that isn’t your fault.”  The child had never asked to be put in such a cruel situation ( though had any of them ? ). “The others will not be so lucky if they cross me, true, but I see no good reason to harm you.” 

He doesn’t know what troubles them. There’s something, he knows, it’s clear to everyone in the camp. But they all had their little secrets and he wasn’t one to press ( nor did he care to ). “If I can leave the Underdark and its horrors behind, you can escape from whatever it is you run from.”  Those horrors still haunted him, still crept up on him, yet he’d never been more free. No longer was he chained to Lolth and their sick, twisted society. No longer did he have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. “It might be a long and painful path, but you will be able to make your own choices again eventually.” He wonders what Aenbalar would do with such a distressed being. Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. The answer is there, of course. Right in front of him. And though part of him wonders if he’ll regret it, Kerrian makes the offer anyway. “I will help you when you get there.” 

   Eyes flicker to the floor, biting lips and fists clenching so hard one might thing it could draw blood. There is a grimace, staring at the disturbed ground and feeling the eyes of the camp on them. How insane they might look. But who could blame them? Weren’t they all in some respect? “I just rather be dead than here.” Comes a mumble. And yet, when they say that, they know it is not true for Kiran’s struggle of survival was plain for all to see. From their vicious fight against the Goblins, to the fiends within the Seven Hells. They were never a good liar.