One of the most interesting aspects of Genie and Mozenrath's dynamic is that Genie treats him like a talented but cheeky kid who happens to be very good at magic.
In The Citadel, there is a moment where Mozenrath leaves after being scolded by Genie. The way he suddenly goes quiet feels very much like a child who instinctively falls silent after being reprimanded, and that moment always stood out to me.
I think Mozenrath probably hates being treated like a child. But at the same time, it is fascinating that Genie could potentially take on the role of an adult who gives him the kind of affectionate discipline he never received during his developmental years.
If Mozenrath lived in the modern day, what would his style be like?
He’d be fashion-conscious and sensitive to trends, but always with a touch of refinement. He loves clean, elegant outfits—regardless of whether they’re labeled men’s or women’s. (Honestly, I think he could pull off even a skirt with ease, which just shows how stylish he is.)
He’d probably prefer a just-right or relaxed fit rather than something too tight. Oversized looks might feel a bit too casual for him—he values sophistication above all.
Leather shoes over sneakers. And even if he wore sneakers, they’d likely be leather. The type to brush his shoes after each wear and let them rest for a day before wearing them again.
He wouldn’t over-accessorize. Perhaps a watch with a simple face and a few delicate rings that highlight his long, graceful fingers. Always quality over quantity.
Makeup would be an essential part of his look. It would appear natural, effortless even, but in reality every detail is carefully crafted. His skin would have a healthy, vibrant glow, and his features would be subtly enhanced to perfection. Nothing looks heavy or artificial, yet everything is perfectly in place.
He would always look composed, modern, quietly elegant. The kind of person who turns heads not because he tries to, but because he simply exists that way.
Sometimes I wonder if Mozenrath were to live far longer than expected through the Elixir of Life, how long his magic would truly endure.
As the world moves closer to modernity, magic begins to be replaced by science. People come to see it as mere fantasy, something that never really existed. In an age where magic is dismissed as fiction, could power survive without belief to sustain it?
If the arcane force ceased to work, his right hand would no longer be able to maintain the shape of a skeletal forearm. It would be reduced to nothing but an upper arm. The difference between having a barely functional hand and having nothing at all is immense. To lose it twice, once as flesh and once again as magic, would be a devastating burden for someone as sensitive as he is.
Mozenrath is a devoted scholar, so perhaps before magic fades completely, he would try to merge medicine with sorcery, fashioning a way to keep his arm at least partially functional.
And yet, no matter what solution is created, even if prosthetics exist, his right hand will remain a painful complex. The wound in his heart would not be healed so easily. What he truly needs is not replacement, but something deeper and more fundamental.
A world without magic would mean losing the very identity that shaped the majority of his life, and it would leave a deep scar on his spirit.
Content warning: mentions of sexual trauma and recovery. Please read with care.
I think Mozenrath’s relationship with touch and desire is one of the most tragic yet human parts of him. Here’s how I see it.
Keep reading below the cut if you’re comfortable.
How interested is Mozenrath in anything sexual?
Hardly at all—if anything, he’d rather never think about it again. He has endured experiences so horrific that they shattered his sense of safety, leaving him with scars that run deep into his mind. The very idea of sex now evokes trauma so severe that it dominates his memories, making it almost unbearable to confront.
To him, intercourse has never been about desire or connection—it was an ordeal he had to survive, a duty that ended only when the other person was satisfied. He came to see it as a grim obligation, a debt he could repay only with his body, not money. Every encounter reinforced his fear and his sense of helplessness, teaching him that intimacy is not something he could ever safely experience.
After defeating Destane, he might start to question that way of thinking. He could study texts that describe sex as an act of affection, reproduction, or communication, yet he would suffer from the gap between what he knows and what he has lived.
Mozenrath struggles with the idea of intimacy — not because he lacks desire,but because he’s painfully aware of how his past and his body have shaped that desire.He knows his perception of intimacy isn’t “normal,” yet he can’t simply discard it.He feels both hurt and alienated — grieving what he cannot experience,and hating himself for grieving it at all.
Would he ever try to “rewrite” his experience by paying for it?
No. Why should he give his body to someone he doesn’t even know?
Even if he did, and even if his body responded to physical pleasure, the emotional void would remain. It would only leave him emptier. For him, pleasure without trust feels meaningless.
He might see it instead as a perverse act that temporarily silences his thoughts—a way to lose control, if only for a moment.
Would he ever touch himself?
It’s not impossible, but it would always come with disgust.
He has a normal level of desire for his age, yet he despises that part of himself. The very fact that he can feel such urges might make him feel sick.
If possible, he’d rather not do it at all. It feels filthy to him—like a reminder of everything he wants to forget.
How could he ever learn to see it differently?
Someone would have to be endlessly patient with him—someone who never rushes, who asks for consent at every step, and who lets him move at his own pace. Only then could he begin to move beyond the trauma.
But because his right hand is nothing but bone, he’s convinced no one could ever accept him as he is—he uses that external reason to turn away from the fact that the real problem lies inside him, because acknowledging it would be unbearable. So he’s likely given up on rewriting that part of his past.
Still, if someone were to hold him gently, to listen to his fears without judgment—if someone showed him that warmth can exist without expectation—then perhaps he could begin to find joy in it.
For now, what he needs most isn’t sex. It’s a warm, loving embrace—one that makes him feel safe and held.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What I wanted to explore in this story is the idea that
Love alone doesn’t guarantee things will work out. If the pieces don’t align, that love can’t always be received.
In this story, no one is malicious. Everyone cares for each other, and it is precisely because they love one another that pain is born.
I also wanted to portray his mother as an ordinary person. She is loving, she struggles, and sometimes she makes mistakes. I never wanted her to be a saint. She was never trying to force him to endure things; their kindness simply failed to meet each other in the way they needed.
Another thing I wanted to think about was what Mozenrath might have been like before he was taken in by his master.
I imagine his family wasn't so poor that they struggled to put food on the table, but they weren't wealthy either. Even as a child, Mozenrath was perceptive enough to understand that.
Perhaps he was also born highly sensitive and deeply attuned to the emotions of those around him.
Because of that, he gradually came to feel guilty even for natural feelings like wanting things, feeling lonely, or wishing to be held and loved a little more.
Trying not to burden anyone, he did his best to live up to others' expectations. To adults, he seemed like the perfect child: bright, obedient, and easy to raise.
But beneath that was a child haunted by the fear of being abandoned and starving to be loved.
In short, he was a kind child who had to grow up far too soon.
Of course, the adult Mozenrath is very different from the child he once was. But the foundations of who he would become were already there.
And being taken in by his master only reinforced those beliefs and twisted them further.
As for what happened after that… well, I think everyone already knows the rest.
I love writing and drawing about the characters I care about.
I enjoy psychological analysis and studied psychology, but my posts don’t always reflect academic accuracy.
Since I’m not a native English speaker, I sometimes use AI to help translate my writing. My posts might sound a bit mechanical at times, but the ideas and feelings are all my own.
Lately, I’ve been writing headcanons about Mozenrath, which you can find under:
#masesan headcanons
I also post additional notes and explanations about my writing under:
