#its about being the worst person ever and still being loved

[sheepispink]

A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

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pairings: Simon Ghost Riley/ Reader (platonic or romantic, up to you)

tags: probably loads of military inaccuracies, anxiety attacks (possibly?), heavy angst, angst and comfort, paranoia, bad mental health, cuddling and literal sleeping together (up to you romantic or platonic)

A/N: I’d appreciate if no one complained abt the accuract/realistic of the story (ofc if its the characterisation of ghost that’s perfectly ok!) i’m open for criticisation for how i write etc etc but this is a sensitive topic and.. based off personal experiences 😅😅 so it’s very realistic to me even if its not to you!

This technically takes place after this fic but it’s not a big deal in which the order you read it

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You’re an introvert, even if you do get excited really quickly, loud around people you’ve known for a while and love meeting new people. Yet still, you call yourself an introvert, even if that technically still makes you an extroverted introvert. You don't like the sound of an extrovert— someone who thrives off of others' attention and loves to be the center of it, who brightens their days with their friends and always wants to make plans with anyone and everyone. You like the attention sometimes; when Price mentions your name in a conversation, praising your skills, your heart thumps a little louder. Being at the limelight of the party isn't always the worst thing either, especially when everyone laughs at your jokes so hard they double over, grinning so wide you can't help it either. You love your friends, your teammates, even the random soldiers you’ve only exchanged small greetings with. The love for others is held tight in your heart’s vessels, bursting each and every time they make you smile or you just see their presence. You feel so warm and alive when you give them a grin in the mornings, even more so when they seek out your presence throughout the day.

Though, that only applies sometimes— never always.

A familiar soldier could ask you out to lunch and yet your chest begins to twist uncomfortably, like someone is wringing your intestines with their hands. Something screams at you when they say those words, like an invisible line had just been crossed that had been clear in everyone's heads. You had only ever spoken to those soldiers in the gym or around base, there was nowhere else even remotely personal you’d think to take them to. One on one conversations were not common either, since it wasnt that often. It’s not that you don't like them, it’s just.. not right. You’d shake your head apologetically as you force an excuse between your teeth. The regret you then express is a lie, along with the love you felt before— only reduced to a being who could never hold any of those things.

The truth is, you have a sick little parasite in you, it claws at that heart muscle, tearing away the flesh and devouring any love you feel for the people you care about and replacing it with an empty feeling which is always followed by an unreasonable hatred. Your mind grows dark, headaches permanent, as you live through the day as a skeleton of yourself— no longer able to hold any love within you as it slips past your bones in seconds. You don't like the boundaries you’ve mentally set for each person to be crossed, even if it’s a perfectly normal task. In fact, some may even say you’re scared of change. You don’t like to put a label on these things, hell you don't even like to think too hard on these things. It begins to make sense when you sit and reflect, piecing all the reasons for your behaviour together until you hit the final point. Soon you’re done, finally aware of the most significant reasoning behind your antics. The only issue is, being self aware doesn't mean you get any better; no matter how many nights you sit and stare at that mirror, nothing changes.

The only thing you gained was the ability to squash down the parasite from prying eyes. Excuses fall from your lips quickly, no matter how bad you feel when they give you that look of disappointment. It’s not your fault— you know you won't be able to handle an outing like that, you’d get too worked up. Why? You don't need to dwell on it, not right now. This continues for multiple people, multiple soldiers for two weeks, until you're ‘normal’ and you hang around others again. People begin to subconsciously catch on and so your little routine continues to carry on moving so well, staying right on track.

“Sarge? You aint comin’ to team night? Why?”

Ghost stands at the door of your quarters, dressed in his typical training attire whilst you’re sitting in something cozy, made for home wear. You have to fight the urge to cover yourself up. “Oh right.. i, uh..yknow, lot of paperwork to do. Thought i’d stay in.”

You say with a small smile, attempting to ease any concerns he had before but little did you know, he was already growing aware of your little issue, or at least the fact there was one within you. “Paperwork? On a Friday? You should be relaxin’.” You grit your teeth a little, the burning urge inside of your chest returning just like the sick pit in your stomach. It felt so awful fearing just a simple team night out, but it was just so late and you were so tired— you didnt have the energy to be rational the whole time, to think of your next move constantly.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll come to the next one.” You shrug, turning back to your small desk as you pull another small stack of papers in front of you. His boots thump loudly against the floorboards, sounding like the heavy thump of your heart in your ears. It stops, suddenly, behind your back and your body stiffens as he leans down, looking at the paperwork you’re going through. It’s a lie— naturally, you finished it all. He doesn't even have to stare at you first nor visibly raise a brow; you’re already waiting for him to call out your bluff just as quickly.

“You can just say you want some time alone, yknow.” That catches you off guard, half expecting him to just tell you to stop whining and grab some drinks. His words were still difficult though, how could you easily just say that? Of course, the words itself aren't the hard part, nor speaking it—it’s the implications behind said words. An excuse means you have other things to occupy you, so no one dares to disturb you much after that, however explaining you want some alone time gives way to more questions. Specifically the first being: why? Then they begin to wonder if you’ve been doing okay recently or if you’re struggling with something. You dont like the idea of that at all— people thinking about you in that way. It feels weird, almost like it’s wrong. Sometimes you wished people would just not care, and leave you alone to wallow with yourself.

“Sarge?” You snap out of it, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as he still stands behind you and you turn in your chair, putting the best meek face you can on for the night. “What? No, that’s not why I declined. I’m not really feeling any alcohol today and a new episode of a series I previously binged on the weekend just came out. Sorry.. didn't want to make it seem i was ditching anyone for a show.” Perfect, an awkward grin had tied it all off into a well constructed excuse. Even if it was partially true and this really wasn't fake, it sure felt like everything you did was an act. After all, you really didn't want them to think you were ditching anyone, and you didn't feel like having any alcohol tonight. “A new series” He says gruffly, and you nod with a tight smile, teeth gritting so hard you’re sure they’ll break in a few seconds. “I’ll join you then.”

You blink once, twice, three times in pure utter confusion. Ghost—The Ghost, whose name is rumoured across the battlefield and known for never giving into idle small talk—wants to watch the series you lied about, with you.

You’ve never felt more guilty in your entire life, practically fumbling for a solution. You could just tell the truth, say no and admit you needed to be alone. But this is the first time he’s ever expressed wanting to hang around you, actually together and alone— and miss out on a team night?! He may just want an excuse out of it, but still, you can't just say no now. “Well yeah, i just..” You hate how there’s no easy way out of this in the slightest, torn between saving your own mental health or finally getting close to the teammate who you’ve been on eggshells around for nearly a year now. “My room’s not exactly clean--“

He cuts you off with a gruff, shake of his head, a scoff resounding in his next words, promptly embarrassing you too. “There ya go— knew you wanted to be alone.”

You fumble, not understanding how he managed to pry it out of you so fast, just a simple lie blowing your cover. “I said it wasn't like-“

“See you tomorrow.” He’s gone just as fast as he silenced you, heavy footsteps disappearing out of your door and down the corridors. What you couldn't wrap your head around is how fast he had figured it out and made you confess to your lies that fast— it was a real problem, something you couldn't just let slide. If he knew, did others too?

Unfortunately for you, the very much needed alone time didn’t help as well as it usually did considering this new information has threatened everything that made up the core of your very being—specifically everything keeping you glued together. You just couldn't sit there and possibly relax like you usually did when alone (more specifically think over everything you’ve done wrong until you quite literally fell asleep mid thought)— not when Ghost could clearly read everything you had ever thought about in your life.

That being said, you’ve been a nervous wreck all week, concentrating so hard on looking sane that you’ve barely paid a second of attention to things you should’ve listened to. It’s not like you slipped up regularly, but before that day you were already feeling pretty uneasy and now with still no relief and the added stress, you feel like you really might lose it any second now. Every time you see him, every word exchanged with your teammates—with another person—it eats at you, tugging further on the ropes you’re hanging onto. They’re already been pulled thin, especially since you’ve been put in charge of a group of rookies for the past few weeks now. Of course, you had pulled the short straw when assignments went round because not only did your group love to talk back, but they loved to test every limit by asking the most stupid of questions possible. It’s the second time now you’ve had to lecture one of the rookies about why you can’t just ‘throw a grenade at the enemies’. It’s only temporary, just basic training exercises and medical procedures they need to know until the Officer, who usually oversees them, returns from their sick leave.

You let out a long breath as you enter the small break room, also known as taskforce 141’s meeting room but they’ve let you lounge in here too many times to count. It’s quiet in here, Soap and Gaz both on missions and you assume Ghost must be too. It’s the first time you’ve been able to relax all week, knowing damn well Price is down in London with Gaz. Your shoulders sag, the miserable look returning to cover your features now that you don't need to pull that tight smile anymore. Your chest physically aches from how anxious you’ve been all day, the weight of the day’s mistakes and fears of the future swelling deep in your gut. You know it’s a Friday, know you should just take a long sleep but you can’t help but think about all you have to do for the days to follow. You’re busy the whole day tomorrow, a team outing you can’t deny no matter how much you really do not want to go. Just thinking of all the final work you’ll have to cram in on Sunday makes a splitting pain run along the bumps in your brain. Even your breaths begin to feel shorter, an uncomfortable feeling that you just still cant rid of no matter how long you take deep breaths. Your eyes are weighed down with exhaustion and yet your brain refuses to let you sleep yet. No, you cannot. If you sleep the night away then you’ll only have Sunday left for yourself, and that won't work out, will it?

You pick up the mug you had just stirred, hoping the drink would soothe at least something if not your dehydrated body. Taking a small sip, the hot liquid spills down your throat, leaving a warm feeling in your ribs. “Alone by choice or force?” A gruff voice rings out behind you, along with an arm reaching around to supposedly grab a teabag as well, is enough to make you flinch. Stumbling on your own feet, your mug jolts and the steaming water splashes against your shoulder. If you were worried about someone catching you so vulnerable before, you were certainly terrified now, especially since your skin was burning from a small startle.

“Fuck— sorry—“

Ghost’s gloved hand settle on one side of your waist while the other quickly takes the mug from your hands and places it upon the counter. You cant respond, barely processing the situation and everything just feels like too much and your skin feels so hot, you know he’s seeing you fall apart and still there’s nothing you can do—

Your thoughts snap to a blank when he presses the cold rag against your burning skin. Thankfully the layers of the training uniform stops any severe marks from forming. His other hand rubs your cheek, his mask so close it could brush your face, and you can actually see every speck of brown in his irises. You can't look at him for long though, moving your gaze away quickly, not when you know what you’ve done. For the past week or two you’ve hated him, painting the most horrible picture in your mind. It wasnt even on purpose, you’ve just started seeing everything wrong about him. He doesnt give the rookies much mercy, nor does he particularly entertain any of Soap’s antics even when the situation is pretty lax. He’s boring, he seems to care about nothing but himself somedays, he refuses to let you do something stupid and he never takes that damn mask off even when you’re all supposed to trust one another. You’ve lied to him, yes, forgetting about your hatred when he made you laugh with those gruff remarks. But he’s not the only one— no, you’ve began to hate everyone in this task force, picking at them and every little thing. It’s weird, you don't want to victimize yourself, because you know you’ve done just as much wrong too. But still, somedays you really can't look past the list of things you dislike about your own friends.

“Are you alright? I havent seen you all week.”

Of course he hasn't, you’ve been avoiding them all. It’s nearly impossible to think straight these days and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it so naturally, you just stayed away. The more you did it, the better it began to feel. Avoiding them was the solution— you were just the thorn in their side with your tricky mood swings and anxiety always painting them to be the villain. You couldnt just allow this to happen, to destroy them with your issues even if they had no idea about it.

But now, face to face with him, all you feel is unexplainable guilt for everything you’ve done to them— how could you even hate them for a second? His hand is still rubbing at your skin, nudging your face gently upwards just so you’d at least look at him for a second. “Really? The silent treatment now?.” He sighs and you hate yourself, how did you let this spiral to this point— to where he’s apologising to you and yet you wish you could just disappear. Isnt this what you wanted? For everyone to be kind to you? So why are you running— why do you refuse care?

Your lips press together as your teeth bite down on the soft flesh, torn from how much you’ve picked at the skin the whole week. It aches with anxiety, and your teeth hurt from how often you’ve clenched them so hard they scraped against eachother. The only thing you can do is stand there as Ghost fusses over you, trying to get you to move a damn muscle instead of falling apart silently like some kind of broken watch, unable to move forward or backwards. Just still.

“Sarge— snap out of it, look, I'm sorry. Okay?”

His hands are still on you, and you’ve begged for a day where someone would care this much about you and still, you step back, almost afraid. “I’m sorry, Ghost.” You croak out, your hands reaching up to your eyes as you wipe at your skin obsessively, trying to hide and stop anything from leaking. “Why’re you apologising?” He says gruffly, confused by all of this, this sudden onslaught of emotion.

He’s not stupid, he had a feeling you weren't quite yourself this week. Stupidly, he figured you’d just deal with it on your own. That's what everyone did, right? He knows he just takes a breather when he feels a little rough— even Price had his own battles. Comfort isn't a strong point for Ghost, not even when he was Simon Riley, never has and he never thinks it will be. He’s born and bred on violence and the coldness that comes after it, the lack of warmth even as hot blood trickles and emptiness consumes the space where his fellow soldiers should be. So watching you crumble right before him, apologising profusely while your body wracks with shaken breaths, makes something stop in him too. He doesn't know how he’ll do it, but he knows damn well no one fights alone anymore.

“Look at me.”

He says firmly, both his hands landing firmly on your shoulders, one hand even tempted to just force your chin up but you shake your head profusely. “Why not?” He stays patient for you, even if he knows he may have to force you soon— its the least he can do for you. “I cant look at you. Not after everything i did.” He pauses, hands now settling on your jaw in confusion, he knows this is moving towards an interrogation but he has to know. “What are you talking about?! What did you do?”

“I hated all of you! I avoided you all and destroyed our relationship, i fucked it all up.”

With that he cant stand to see this continue, a gloved hand firmly planted over your mouth as the other wraps around your back. He leads you to the couch even as you squirm, not caring in the slightest. He knows he has strength and not comfort, so he’ll use it to shut you up whilst the truth comforts you instead.

“Look at me.” He says sternly and you do, eyes snapping up with wide fear as you look at him. “That’s not true— okay? None of us consider our relationship with you ruined, not one of us has even mentioned you in a bad light at all.” He makes sure your whole body is pressed against the back of the couch, considering that you didnt particularly look as if you could hold yourself up right now.

“Soap has only talked to me about you once recently— he told me you helped him organize the training schedules for the rookies. Told me to thank you for it because he felt he did not express his gratitude enough. Do you understand now? No one’s mad at you– not one of us have even considered anything to have gone wrong.”

His hand grabs your own, settling it on the center of his chest so you can feel the pattern of his breathing, silently praying you’d try and match it. You can only blink at him though, slowly processing his words with each passing second until his hand leaves your mouth and your lips part, breath hitched before you swallow a sharp breath. “I’ve avoided all of you– i’ve been hating all of you.” You choke out, chest clenching with regret and the weight of unreasonable guilt and his other hand moves to hold your face again, his brown eyes piercing into yours with his silence.

“What is like to hate someone?”

“What?”?

“What is it like to hate someone?” He repeats, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your cheek.

“I-...” You falter, thinking for a moment before your lips part again. “I dont like things that they do— the way they act and everything about them.”

“You’d avoid them too, right? Like that general you hated. Remember when he touched you and you pushed his hand away?

You nod along in agreement, breathing a bit slower to hopefully ease the pressure on your chest at the moment.

“Y-yeah.. i’d express my dislike clearly..”

“So why did you never push me away the past few weeks? You said you avoided us, but you would always speak to us if we needed to. You still helped Soap too.”

You pause, blinking at him in confusion now, you had convinced yourself that you hated them so why did you never.. actually express it?

“You’re also letting me touch you now and last week you didn't want to hang out with us, but you didnt want to hurt our feelings by saying that.”

You’re left silent, baffled and confused because in your head, you were being horrible to them, hating their guts like it was nothing.

“I think… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” He says slowly, tapping at your forehead gently as you look up at him with widened eyes. “You’ve held it in for too long. You’ve dwelled on those thoughts, so self aware of your own anxieties that you’ve distorted reality. You think you’ve done something bad, because you can't understand why you always feel so bad.” His voice is softer than usual, even if his words are still gruff and holds his thick Manchester accent.

Somehow that alone reminds you that Simon has never lied, not even once, to you. That stern voice of his is straightforward, doesnt mess around and forces his way through any problem. Just like he had just pushed himself to the root of your mind and destroyed your seeds of doubt.

“You’re allowed to talk to us you know. I have a funny feeling you’re scared o’ somethin’. Not sure what just yet.”

He doesnt force you to respond, just speaking his thoughts even if that’s what you usually do when you’re together. The couch creaks as he stand up, pulling you to get up aswell beside him. He places a hand on the crook of your back, gently encouraging you to begin walking towards the door. “Cmon, back to my room. Lets get you cleaned up properly.”

Before you know it, you’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, something you had only felt months ago when you first came here, scared and confused over a stupid hornet. You trusted him to help you then, but you dont understand why you suddenly felt that fear again. Meanwhile, your shirt is half off, Ghost sat on the bed beside you as he inspects the burns on your chest from the tea. It’s harsh, the skin reddened but not enough to be something serious thankfully. He presses a cool towel against it, soothing the stinging skin but he knows it’ll fade out soon enough. You’re wearing his old shirt, and he gave you some comfortable sweatpants too for good measure. You just watch all his moves so quietly, feeling like a ghost yourself in this moment from how detached you are. It’s weird, feeling so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Nothing too bad, should be alright by the morning.” He hums, lifting the fresh mug of tea he brewed for you and brings it to your lips for you to sip before he steals some for himself. “Is your chest still tight?” You blink, not expecting him to ask that of all things because you hadnt exactly mentioned that part and yes, it was. “How did you know..?” Your hand reaches out, silently asking for more of the tea he graciously lets you sip, unable to fathom how he brews it so perfectly each time. “You were clutching at your chest before and your breaths are a little shorter than they should be.” He’s seen straight through you again so you slump your shoulders and just nod quietly. “Yeah, it’s really tight. It’s always like this and i dont know how to make it stop.”

His gloved hand reaches out, gently rubbing at your chest thus making you sink a little back into the pillows. Before he can respond, you speak up with a quiet confession. “That day, when you came ‘round, I was upset. You said you wanted to watch the series with me and I felt so bad. I didn't want to give up my only chance of spending time with you, but I knew my head couldn't take it.”

He nods along quietly, letting you reveal it all to him. “T-then you figured me all out and i got scared— i didnt want someone to know everything about me because i didnt want to be a problem. I want someone to listen but i dont want to be seen as something different. I just.. i dont know how to handle all of this. I dont feel like the person i am when i look in the mirror.”

The strangest thing of all is that it didnt actually take you long to figure it out. You knew all along, of course, but when you’re fighting against yourself, you’re supporting both sides and so a part of you decided not to dwell on a certain bit of information too much. The reason for that to be pushed aside is no part of you wanted to face it.

Your heart always secretly wished someone would find out— that someone would push past the walls you’ve banged so hard against even if they were crafted by the webs of your brain. You prayed and prayed that they’d read through it all, express their concern and one day, one day you’d be saved from this hellish feeling. It was a common daydream for you and yet you were terrified of it. If someone knew, there was no guarantee they’d follow the fantasy. They could ridicule you, or they couldnt be able to comfort you at all, maybe they’d try and it wouldnt even do anything or maybe, just maybe— they wouldnt give a damn about it. What happened then? If that daydream was real, and that was the final outcome, there was no turning back in time. It seemed like only one person would ever figure you out, after all, no one had up until this point.

But then Simon became aware, and you got terrified. You hid away because you were too scared to know his reaction to your problems, even more so his reaction to you. You wanted someone to help, you really did, and yet your brain feared to know the uncertain future of it.

His ungloved hands card through your hair, the callouses gentle against your scalp as he slowly scratches at it. “You need to speak with us, and the others. Your feelings are real— hell, we all have our doubts. I used to feel it before every mission. Soap began to tell me his, then Gaz joined too. Price always looks for a way to solve it, and i give my two pence when i feel i want to. Just cause you feel different, doesnt mean you are. Plenty o’ people felt the same way you did before.”

“Really..? I’m not like.. crazy?”

“No, never. Even if you do some stupid shit sometimes.”

That makes you finally crack a real smile, even if its small and you’re unable to stifle the small chuckle that bubbles in your throat and although he’s the epitome of stoicism, he smiles beneath the mask. “Everyone’s out on a mission, ya can't leave me alone tonight. C’mere.”

You settle yourself in the crook of arm as he lays back against the bed with you, propping up his laptop on his lap as he searches for a good movie.

“You better report back to me everyday this week, alright? I want you here at nine pm sharp, dressed in your pajamas. That’s an order.”

Thinking over all your previous daydreams of how this would eventually go, this was far from how you expected it to be. Firstly, you never expected Ghost, nor it to happen in the military at all. Perhaps you thought maybe later in life it’d occur or maybe Soap or Price would figure it out. Either way, you arent actually upset over it. No one would be your fairy tale saviour in life, coming forward to fight the demons that plagued your head all the time. Even so, the way Ghost had shut you up and calmed you down makes you think he’s pretty damn close to being one, even if knights usually dont scoff at their princess.

He doesnt even look like he’d be willing to give a little kid a hug, but still, you couldnt be happier with how this turned out in the end. Compared to fairytale princes and men in the movies, you knew Ghost and you knew he was serious— so if he wanted to help you, he would. And no, he wouldnt ridicule you throughout the process, nor ever feel like you’ve been misheard. You know that if you spoke to Ghost, he’d listen earnesty and never forget, carrying that around with him even if those anxieties eventually died out.

You knew he’d always linger around, never forgetting you or leaving you behind. Just like a Ghost.

“Okay, i promise i will.”

You say softly, pressing your cheek against the curve of his chest, the faint thump of his heartbeat drowning out any lost thoughts. He was your support, and no matter how bad it got for you, no matter how many times you get overwhelmed and lash out, not even when you avoid everyone— he’d never break away. No, he would always be beside you.

[bunnybird-afk]

Questions about your Magister (now with +5 more questions🤣):

1. So what's his connection to the Maulers/ Dusk Lord anyway?

2. Does he have a love interest?

3. Is he a Mauler..?

4. If so what abilities or powers does he have?

5. Also like I'm 89% sure it's cannon, but what's his connection to Dura?

6. Does he have a specific magic he uses?

7. Who are his parents?

8. Where did he come from?

9. What's his opinion on holding the title "Merlin"?

10. What's personality?

11. Is he rich...?

12. What's his worst fear?

13. Does he hate any in-game characters?

14. Does he have hobbies?

15. What type of people does he get along with?

Thank you so much for this ask! I am so excited to ramble on about Sena! I have been cooking up his lore for almost a month now but haven't been able to put it together coherently so this really helps!

Warning: Long Post

Some brief background:

Sena is a former 'god' of Esperia, though he technically hasn't held an official place in the pantheon since long before the Divine War, having asked for his name to be struck from the records for certain reasons. While he retained much of his original power at first, his divine core was shattered by Ygdris during the Immortal War, leading to Sena being absorbed into the leylines to rest and heal until the war was over. Afterwards, he awakens with no memories, helps Esperia with its troubles and then returns to the leylines when his life force is depleted. This cycle repeats itself a total of three times so far, with the most recent being the in-game canon.

1) Sena's connection to the Dusk Lord/the Maulers?

While most Esperian's might consider it blasphemous, the Age of the Gods wasn't nearly as prosperous or perfect as one might think. Being a fledgling god who didn't yet have his own title, Sena was often looked down upon by some of the less benevolent deities in Esperia's pantheon (most of whom have been long forgotten).

The Dusk Lord was one of the few gods who viewed Sena as what he was at the time, a child in need of guidance. Thus the Dusk Lord took him under his wing, taught him about Esperia and what it meant to be a god. Even taught him how to fight should the need arise.

Through the Dusk Lord, Sena met the Maulers. The first mortals that Sena ever encountered. The first people Sena ever met. The Dusk Lord taught Sena about his people and about their cultures, telling the godling that his wish was for his people to be strong. To be tenacious so that they could handle the harsh realities of the world even without his guidance.

While the Dusk Lord tried to teach Sena how to be a god, Sena immersed himself in the culture and community around him and instead learnt something far more important. How to be a person.

2) Sena's love interest(s)?

While Sena has had partners over the eons, there where very few instances he could point to that he'd consider love. The first of these instances was a mage by the name of Merlin, the first mage to ever exist in Esperia. Merlin was gentle and compassionate and selfless, and Sena found himself inexplicably drawn to them. They were perfect. But they were mortal... After they passed, Sena took up the title of 'Merlin' as a way to remember them and to continue their mission of protecting and helping Esperia.

During the Immortal War, Sena fought side-by-side with the Celestials, wanting to safeguard Esperia's people from the threat of the Hypogeans. During this time, Sena grew close to Dionel, and while the two may have shared a few tender moments and had occasionally found comfort in each other's arms, they soon realized that their feelings for each other were more platonic than romantic. To this day, Sena considers Dionel his closest friend, and it would seem as though the feeling is mutual.

After losing his memories the second time, Sena wakes up near Holistone and soon meets Hogan who was still a young recruit in the Lightbearer army. Having no memory of his own past and believing himself a mortal, Sena ends up working closely with Hogan and eventually feelings start to bloom between the two (despite a rocky start). Over the next decade or so, Sena and Hogan grow closer and closer, and though they make their affections for each other obvious, the word 'love' remains unspoken. Things between the two 'end' when Hogan gets called to duty, asked to serve the Lightbearer Empire in some scuffles that had broken out with the Maulers near the border to the Ashen Wastes. Hogan asks Sena to come with him, using the excuse that they could use the help of a mage like him. Sena asks Hogan to stay, knowing that he might not make it back alive. They both decline out of a sense of duty, though those feelings continue to linger. To the point where Sena returns to Holistone after the war to wait for Hogan having heard news of his return, though Sena is resting in the leylines again before they can be reunited. (Though, Sena has accidentally acquired an adopted son during his time back at Holistone, one that would soon go on to cause Hogan no shortage of trouble).

3) Is Sena a Mauler?

Not in the traditional sense. Sena's divine form was an almagamation of the different factions, though he doesn't inherently belong to any given one. During his time wandering Esperia, he tends to try to fit in with the people around him, hence him taking on more Mauler like characteristics when in the Ashen Wastes and more Wilder characterstics when in the Dark Forest. Though considering the Dusk Lords words and Sena's own feelings about the Ashen Wastes, in his heart Sena is more of a Mauler than he is any other faction.

4) Sena's Abilities/Powers?

While Sena has the standard Merlin abilities we see in game, he also has a few innate abilities that stuck around from when he was still a god. This includes Sena coming across as very amicable and persuasive, and on rare occasions being able to tap into his Divine Authority. Overall, Sena also exudes an air of comfort, making others around him feel at ease even in the toughest of times.

5) Sena's connection with Dura?

Like the Dusk Lord, Dura was on of the few gods who didn't completely disregard Sena's existence. Though while the Dusk Lord viewed Sena's naivety as something he needed time and help growing out of, Dura viewed it as a reason why Sena needed to be protected and nurtured. In a sense she was another one of Sena's mentors growing up. While the Dusk Lord taught him to be strong, resilient and tenacious, Dura had taught him to be gentle, caring and compassionate. And unlike most of the other gods, Dura seemed to genuinely love her people, wanting to protect them and nurture them, ensuring that they thrived and prospered. And at the end of the day, Sena wanted to help her fulfill that desire though it would be centuries until he could actually be of any assistance to her.

6) Sena's Magic?

Sena's magic is derived directly from the leylines themselves, allowing him to use magic in its purest form, though without his divinity this tends to take an immense toll on him should he overexert himself. Apart from that, Sena has a form of charmspeak that allows him to compell the truth from others, and often persuade them into doing certain things, though he often forgets this ability in his amnesia only to remember it later, though even then he uses it sparingly, not liking the feeling of influencing others free will.

7/8) Who are his Parents/Where did he come from?

Being a former god, Sena doesn't really have parents. Like most gods, he simply awoke one day in the Realm of the Gods, born of a concept that had become prominent enough to warrant having its own deity. Though unlike most gods, Sena had no clue what he was the god of at first, not feeling any real affinity for anything present in the Realm of the Gods.

So in that sense, Sena didn't really have parents. In fact he didn't really understand the concept until almost a millenium later, watching as Mauler father excitedly scooped his cub into a hug after their first steps. Sen had found it heartwarming though still unrelatable.

Though if Sena were to think about it now (once he has his memories back atleast), if anyone had been a father to him, it would have been the Dusk Lord. And well, Dura had always called him her child, even if she hadn't really meant it in the familial sense (though Sena found himself secretly hoping that she did).

9) Sena's opinion on being Merlin?

While the title had started as a way for him to honour somone he cared for, it's since then grown to represent so much more to him. To Sena, being Merlin means shouldering the responsibility for Esperia's well-being. Not just dealing with big threats, but also caring for the Esperian people on a personal level. It represents the wishes of all those who loved him, and now his own wishes too. Afterall, it's his responsibility as Esperia's last living god.

10) Sena's personality?

Growing up Sena had been well-meaning and quiet sharp, though it was usually hidden behind his jovial demeanor. Even back then, however, Sena had a touch of recklessness and anarchy to him that caused Dura no shortage of concern (and the Dusk Lord no shortage of amusement). And though he eventually matured and grew more calm and measured, his charming personality and slight spark of chaos never quiet left him. And whenever Sena loses his memory, his personality reverts to being somewhere in the middle of those two states of being.

11) Is Sena Rich?

Pretty much, though that's more thanks to Dolly than anything else. After becoming Sena's retainer, she took her duties very seriously, handling just about everything that Sena may need help with (excluding magecraft). That included handling Sena and the Mystical House's finances, as well as updating Sena on any news that may pique his interest. She's also the one responsible for helping Sena to adjust to life in Esperia whenever he returns from the leylines, including making sure he has the correct currency and is dressed for the times (thank you, Dolly, for keeping Sena fashionable).

12) Sena's worst fear?

Losing sight of what it means to be a person. Sena has never cared much for his divinity, but he would cling to every last shred of humanity he has in his soul.

13) Does Sena hate any characters?

Berial and Reinier. Sena hates Berial because of the joy he takes in making mortals suffer. He's needlessly cruel, even by Hypogean standards and seems to genuinely enjoy the harm he causes (unlike Phraesto who Sena finds oddly amicable).

He also strongly dislikes Reinier due to his obsession with perfection. While in itself not abhorrent, the lengths Reinier goes to to achieve his idea of 'perfection' is disturbing to Sena who's seen the way his actions have hurt people. And on a more personal note, the way Reinier desecrates the monuments of the old gods, bastardizing their image and deceiving their followers never fails to have pure rage bubbling up in Sena's chest. Blasphemy doesn't really bother him, but seeing this hypogean spit on the legacy of those he knew and loved just crosses a line for Sena.

14) Sena's Hobbies?

Being Merlin doesn't really give Sena a lot of free time, though when he does get it, he's using it to completely immerse himself in the local culture. Talking to people, helping out around whatever town they're in, eating local delicacies, sampling signature drinks, listening to music, and reading their books and poems. In hindsight, being Merlin probably is the best job for Sena considering that it gives him an excuse to travel.

15) What type of people does Sena get along with?

Sena tends to get along with just about anyone so long as they aren't cruel or closed-minded, though he does have his favourites. Usually those who have the same type of well-meaning chaos and recklessness that he does.

[ruckis-vandalizes]

"Everyday, it’s as if I feel the pain that they’re going through. Everyday, we start to see the world from their point of view. In his mind, all he thinks about is lust for my blood and yours. He will find a way to get to us, and then take his course.

We’ll take down the source."

DISCLAIMER: Kit is not a D&D character. She is a nonfandom but crossover friendly OC from my hubworld/passion project by the name of Order of the Stars! She's taken on the role of an otherworlder, or a "planeswalker" if you will.

end of an era nears ever closer. One of struggle, one of chaos left unchecked. Tragedy after tragedy, all but not limited to

Being stuck in a position of powerlessness for well over a year and a half. Taken advantage of in their moment of weakness by forces (at the time) bigger than them. Met with misfortune and failure at almost every turn. Mourning almost every waking moment and unable to process grief before the next tragedy struck. Forced to watch relive the worst moments of their past and watch helplessly as history repeats itself, despite trying so desperately to stop it. Left with the looming sense of dread as they try and remember billions of years worth of memories, thousands more worth of trauma, under a short deadline and all at once. Forced to watch as their friends are taken advantage of - watch as they die countless times, often as a result of lack of self preservation. Aggression and sorrow as a result of worry and grief perceived as self loathing, blamed for having an appropriate reaction to everything that was going on. Despite trying so desperately to restore their relationship, despite being mostly selfless, they were still the victim of double standards. A thankless job for the ungrateful. Blinded by love, unable to see greed. Until finally they took a step back.

and let go.

in a final gambit to prove their worth, reclaim control, and as a form of closure to themselves, they venture into the lion's den. To confront the very being that had been oppressing them. A cruel Elder God of Entertainment that was twisting fate to make their lives a horror show. Completely disregarding their rights as individuals. Not only did he take advantage of a primordial god borne to kill their kin while they were weakened, but he inadvertently tore apart their friendship with their former party.

just one last try. Just one last adventure.

If not to win, then at least get a few pot shots in and go home. Where they can finally rest. Where they can finally heal. Where they can fully let go.

Destroying the ground they stand on and raking their world for all its worth isn't even worth it anymore. It's not worth the effort. Besides, because of the exposure, for every person that hates them a thousand more will adore them. Let a select few demonize. It doesn't matter. Their audience has been found. THAT is enough reason to keep that world alive.

...and besides. They will outlive it anyway.

And they will smile when they do.

[thesunoficarus1]

nobody understands media with super dark themes (cannibalism/religion/etc.) like I understand media with super dark themes (cannibalism/religion/etc.)

[aziraphales-lawyer]

Literally no other way I could describe it right now.

[bugcatcherkit]

do NOT rewatch world domination arc. worst mistake of my life!! <- in emotional shambles

I was just skimming some of it (<- manga) over again like two hours ago. Which I’ve just been doing so much of lately that’s it’s like. GRIPS MY HAIR !!!!!!!!! And whats funny is that when I First got into mp100 I didn’t even like it that much. now look at me

[sieglinde-freud]

i need more non three houses side characters winning cyl tbh bc the lord outfits are so predictable and boring and for three houses all they do is the normal timeskip shit. like, felix and bernadetta’s art looks great, but the designs… come on. weve all seen mortal savant felix. thats literally just bernadetta’s timeskip outfit with added shoulder stuff. bring back queen camilla of nohr. they did something fun with marianne that one time until everyone was like “boo wah i hate creativity and serving cunt” but they need to not listen to the haters. when tharja wins in three years (if we dont hit eos) i want her cosplaying as grima or something like the lizard version

[theladyfae]

i think human nature/family of blood is a really good two parter in how it manages to show how full of shit ten is 🫶

[muselexum]

( waking up one morning after 18 months of hiatus and finally getting the spark™ to freshen up ur rp blog )

[wellhungspeaker]

sometimes i feel a little weird doing fandom-y things for rhps (because ive never been in a fandom this small before also because it just feels a little weird sometimes) and ill doubt myself and think "does everything NEED a fandom?? scoffs" even though. im hyperfixated super crazy style.

but then i remember that i have no mouth and i must scream has a fandom and i realize that life (fandoms) finds a way and if there is at least one person who likes something, there's probably going to be fanfic about it and some kind of ship WILL be involved

[beastking-golion]

FHR SPOILERS

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I avoided to Argent’s romance because I didn’t think I’d like it but I finally played it and I was so wrong I was so wrong, she is so girly pop murder fiend “I have morals but only sometimes” ass kicking nanovore-made cupcake eating god princess

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Ya know, I'm starting to think a certain chunk of the OBX fandom just hates women lol

[foxgirlmoth]

I wish strong feelings and emotions had a better way to feel like they translate to physical space. For me, personally, I get that shit cranked to 11 and if I can't get that shit out there and verbalized or shown it ends up making me cry. Fear about loss and change and thinking 30 years into the future? Cry. Have so much love in your body at once and can't let enough of it get shown to those who matter to you? Cry a whole lot. I used to put it towards art and especially personal poems or made up song lyrics or something but idk. I can't be staying up sobbing at 4 am due to random thoughts. Its always when I feel like I'm doing my best that this happens, idk if its just processing everything.

I know my emotional regulation skills aren't the best and I often go from a thousand yard stare to crying or a laughing fit or something. I don't want to be like this really, and often times this does happen when I think about loved ones a lot when I'm alone and I just end up wishing I was around someone I can feel loved by and love so much. Maybe I just want to be anywhere besides this 'home' where I know I'm actively seen as a nuisance and treated as a lesser person.

[chiistarri]

what if instead of messaging me in the middle of the night about your stupid fucking girlfriend and your stupid fucking problems with her you actually act like my fucking friend and message me like how you message everyone else in our group

[muttsona]

its always morally correct to wish death on your ex

[autism-corner]

erm