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#tarnished x mohg
sahaquiel43 · 3 months
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[Elden Ring DLC spoilers] sir Ansbach, what an absolute CHAD.
[MAJOR SPOILERS]
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one thing Shadow of the Erdtree did was write a delicuously hatable villians, and the assorted heroes to rally against it.
stayed loyal to the end to Mohg Mogh, pierced through Miquella's deception, and even challenged her, trying to Free Mohg from his Brainwashing.
he even forgives us for killing Mohg given the situation.
and he follows us in to fight against the god that ruined everything.
what would have made it even better is if Morgott, or at least using a margit projection, also went in to avenge his brother.
"Lord Mohg will have his Dignity".
damn that's a raw line. I used to actually dislike mohg, genuinely. I admittedly also disliked his fanbase that flanderized his gross actions. And even after this, it's a toxic blood cult, but taking Ansbach's actions alone.....PURE CHAD.
like his brother, the Omen twins deserved Better!
damn.
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acetier · 3 months
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torin/varre art dump based on a sweet lil ask sent to me by @kirango-rouge about the immediate aftermath of torin's induction into the blood cult ((sorry this took like 5 years lmao))
varre is already thinking of marriage and torin is still processing aka they are so embarrassing about each other
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art-from-within · 5 months
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When you catch feelings for the tarnished you beat 1000000 times (open shirt was Mohg’s idea)
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theres-a-body-here · 3 months
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Got No Human Grace
Mohg x Male!reader
A/N: My beautiful, scrumptious, pookie bear beat the mohglester allegations. Me and my homies all hate MIquella the Tiquella.
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As Mohg clung to you, his large frame shook, bearing numerous wounds and smeared in blood. His once regal garments were now tattered rags, and two of his horns laid broken beside him.
Despite this, there was a calm silence around you both, interrupted only by Mohg's muffled sobs and heavy breaths.
"I… I feared you wouldn't come…" His muffled voice shook, lips quivering as he pressed into your chest, clutching onto you fiercely.
His mind is his own again.
"Shh, it's alright now." You murmured, wrapping your arms protectively around him. Your fingers gently caressed his back in a calming rhythm. "You're safe now."
As you spoke, you could feel Mohg's breathing slowly return to normal against your chest. However, upon hearing the crunch of debris nearby, you lifted your head to look at the person who had helped make this reunion possible.
A heavily armored Tarnished stood before you, her weapon sheathed and her armor battle worn. She gazed down upon the scene indifferently, seemingly unfazed by the display of affection between you and Mohg.
"Thank you, truly… It won't be forgotten." You assured her sincerely, eyes glancing warmly towards her before returning to look down upon Mohg's fragile form cradled within your arms.
However, it seemed that perhaps requesting privacy might be too much to ask for.
The armor-clad Tarnished remained standing before you, staring at the two of you
It can be helped, it seems.
With a gentle motion, you pulled away from holding Mohg close momentarily and reached into your pocket. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, you produced a small flesh trinket in the jagged, vague image of femininity.
You held it delicately between your thumb and index finger, presenting it openly toward the Tarnished.
"Here, consider this a token of gratitude for your assistance today," you offered politely.
As you handed the trinket over to the warrior, Mohg's grip on you tightened slightly but made no attempt to move or react otherwise.
Septic Womb
"My Dearest, I'll find a way to grant you your wish. The Mohgwyn Dynasty shall have its heir"
An idol used in fertility rites of the Formless Mother.
Restores HP when blood loss occurs in the vicinity.
The Tarnished woman took the fleshy charm without a word of thanks, examining it briefly before slipping it away inside her armor.
She continued observing you silently for a while before casting her gaze over to where he lay dormant within his cocoon.
"Listen closely," You cautioned with urgency in your voice, grasping tightly onto Mohg as if to shield him from the very mention of Miquella's name. 
"I seek no vengeance, nor do I wish to pursue further conflict. I beg of you...leave Miquella untouched!" There was desperation lacing each word as they rolled off your tongue, pleading.
Your warning fell on deaf ears as the warrior paid no attention to your pleas, remaining silent and fixated on the distant figure sealed within the fuzzy cocoon.
An exasperated sigh left your lips as realization settled in; her intentions were never about granting aid or salvation. They were merely self-serving, exploiting opportunities to become Elden Lord.
She was a Tarnished, after all.
You watched as the warrior began to approach the distant cocoon containing the Demigod which seemed to draw her here like a moth to light.
If she wanted to play games involving divinity, that was her choice, however misguided. Right now, though, you had more pressing matters to deal with.
Mohg hadn't moved an inch since nestling against your chest, soft sobs still escaping him periodically.
"Hush now," you whispered gently, cradling his massive head between your hands as you tilted it upward towards yours. Your thumbs brushed at the damp fur from underneath his eyes while your palms rested on each side of his face.
Leaning forward, you kissed his forehead gently, then proceeded to pepper sweet kisses all over his face, even pressing a particularly long peck to the horn in his left eye.
A soft whimper escaped him, hungry for more contact as he nuzzled deeper into your embrace.
With his large hands, he kneaded at your body, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. What he missed.
He released a throaty groan as soon as your lips met his in a kiss, his mouth opening slightly as his hot breath mingled with yours.
His large hands drifted beneath your robe, blazing trails of hot fire across your skin as they traveled upwards, heat blooming throughout your entire body.
As he pulled away from your lips, Mohg looked up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he tugged you closer until your bodies melded together.
He rocked his hips into yours, grinding firmly against you to let you know that he was hard as steel.
"We have much to catch up on…" He practically purred at you, squeezing your waist possessively, prompting a lustful groan to escape your mouth involuntarily.
Your brain short-circuited from the sensation, causing you to let out a meek response.
"W-we do…"
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lostgracestories · 17 days
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Same characters: Morgott and Mohg. 😋
So we've had "how do they comfort their S/O," but how do they deal with being comforted? Whether it be from an injury, or maybe they've allowed themself a moment of vulnerability.
I literally love you, please never stop giving me ideas ❤ AAAA
Anyways, I'm lowkey writing this on my phone so not proofread or anything. 🫶 enjoy my loyal pookie
wc: 483
tw: injury, tiny bit of angst, panic attack
Rough Comfort
Morgott
Morgott didn't mean to, but he had sliced his bicep open in the midst of a squabble. At first he tried to hide it from you by bandaging it himself, but the moment you noticed the bandage when he stuck his arm out a little too far from his cloak, you forced him to sit down so you could fix him up. At first he protested, not wanting to get you dirty with his blood. But the moment the warm feeling of a healing incantion buzzed over his skin, he shut his mouth and a quiet purr escaped his lips. He tried to stifle it but the smile on your face convinced him otherwise.
Morgott definitely has self worth issues. He measures his worth based on what the golden order established omens as. The idea that he was cursed and unwanted would often weigh him down. Anytime you caught him silently spiraling, you would climb into his lap and draw circles over his rough features, offering him praises. He wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely loved the feeling of his face being touched in such a way. His shoulders would immediately relax and his eye would shut as he sunk into your hands.
Now, if Morgott is having a panic attack or feeling stressed, comforting him can become very difficult. He paces back and forth and rambles over the topic of trouble and it takes you nearly an hour just to talk him into sitting down with you. Finally, when he resorts to simply spacing out, you pull his head into your lap and brush your fingers through his hair. In these situations you find that silence seems to bring him the most comfort as he grounds himself with your touch.
Mohg
Mohg is a different story. When he gets injured, he immediately comes to you like a wounded puppy. Even for something as small as a minor cut. And you oblige him with praises each and every time, soaking in the delighted sounds that fall past his fangs.
Mohg doesn't particularly feel a sense of guilt for being born the way he was. In fact, he seems to celebrate his appearance and embrace his "curse" however, he does struggle with self image in what people think of him. He'll come to you all sad if he thinks that he wasn't "imposing enough" while explaining his dynasty to another possible candidate.
Finally, mohg sometimes also experiences panic attacks. But instead of fearing that he would burden you with his troubles, you are the first person he seeks out. The moment you see him, hands trembling and eye glossy with tears threatening to spill you take him by the hands and pull him into a much needed hug. Once he's calmed down a little, you'll sit with him and listen to whatever is troubling, he sometimes just needs to get it out of his mind.
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SELF-INDULGENT ELDEN RING FIC MORGOTT/TARNISHED OMG! I've been wanting to make this for awhile and voila it's here :) It isn't perfect but I had fun writing it and hopefully it turns into a long fic.
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HE HAS SUCH LOVELY HANDS OMG ❤️❤️
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bowietea · 9 months
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I missed you Mistress!
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pk4n · 9 months
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2023 summary of art!
i drew almost exclusively elden ring fanart this year, and of that it was mostly morgott (unsurprising)
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I've reposted this artists work alot, but i can't help it, their sorcerer Rogier and white faced/masked Varré elden ring fanart renditions are soooo good 😍😫🙌
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powerfulscribbles · 7 months
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In Need of Aid - A G/t Elden Ring fic (0)
to Chapter 1 | Chp. 2 l Chp. 3 | Chp. 4
Prologue: Ambitions
->Read the chapter on ao3 (registered users)<-
Chapter summary: Lord Mohg summons Varré at the Mohgwyn dynasty palace to discuss something of great significance.
Warnings: creepy undertones, possessiveness, the whole Mohgwyn dynasty and Mohg lore are their own warning.
This story is soon to contain g/t stuff, so if that's not your thing it's in your best interest to click away! Thank thee kindly~
Words: 2,3k
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Varré had to hurry. Unanticipatedly, his Lord had requested his presence at the Mohgwyn Dynasty Palace.
He quickly scanned the damp, marshy area surrounding the Rose Church to see if someone was either coming or looking his way, before teleporting inside the mausoleum; all thanks to his Pureblood Knight's medal that he always had on him.
As he appeared, a Sanguine Noble was already expecting him to escort him to the throne room.
The walk was silent. Only his own footsteps echoed in the corridor, the taller creature not making a single sound as it was leading the way.
Varré had no idea why the Luminary had planned a private meeting with him, all of a sudden.
Thankfully he was not too busy at the moment, and he even had just cleaned his dirty gloves and changed his vest. Lord Mohg wouldn’t have most likely minded the bloodspots on the clothes, but nothing matters more than the respect before someone so close to the divine.
When they reached the entrance to the vast room, the Sanguine Noble behind him slowly disappeared, sinking ominously into a pool of blood.
The war surgeon took a couple of deep breaths. He had nothing to fear.
He was proud of his role in the upcoming birth of the dynasty, nobody deserved praises more than him. So many Knights of Blood anointed and strayed away from the utter misguiding path of the Two Fingers, all his own work. Never-ending offerings of blood to the Divinity, they could fill a bottomless ocean with it.
That being said though, the Luminary rarely requested to speak with him personally. Interrupting his own slumber besides the Divinity.
Must be a very important matter, no doubt.
He trusted his Lord with all his heart. He trusted him even more than he did himself.
Draped in his usual elegant, elaborated robe, the one-eyed Omen awaited for him at the bottom of the throne room.
“My sublime Lord” the white mask said, bowing deeply. “Have you asked to see me?” he continued, maintaining the bow and looking down still.
“I have, dear Varré. You may approach now” the demigod commanded him. Trident in one hand, he raised a clawed finger to call him forth.
The surgeon’s eyes followed his master’s movement and stood up, making his way towards him. He wondered if the Luminary could feel the slight nervousness in his stride. Despite the unusual call, the cursed son of Queen Marika looked very pleased, even smirking as his servant was coming closer.
“You might be wondering why I have wished to summon you today, on this fine afternoon” the monarch broke the silence, placing his large hand on Varré’s shoulders. The latter nodded, definitely impressed by his Lord’s courtesy.
“Yes, oh Luminary. Is something the matter?” the surgeon inquired, with a concerned tone.
“Oh no, no. Not at all. For now, at least.” The Lord looked down at him with his single dark yellow eye, inquisitively.
“I have learned that you have befriended a maidenless Tarnished. A lowborn woman, riding a spirit steed, that often comes to visit and chat with you. She must treat you so nicely. What a sweetheart.”
When the Luminary mentioned her, the usually very composed surgeon couldn’t help but blush subtly under his mask. His Lord never ceased to impress him, he already knew about her!
“An unique breed indeed. One that was able to even strike down a shardbearer demigod and gather a Great Rune of the shattered Elden Ring. I can feel she is going to grow even more powerful as the days go by. No other Tarnished but Roundtable Knight Vyke the Dragonspear was ever close to accomplish such a feat.”
“Oh yes my Luminary, there is plenty of potential within her. As of now, I’m currently working on making her one of the finest Knights of Blood. She is still to be introduced to the trails, but she’s equal to an early rose bud. With the right amount of love, attention and patience she is soon to be ready to join the ranks, I am sure.”
“Have you discussed about this with her though? Brought it up to her, at least” the Lord asked his emissary.
“Not just yet. I have left a note for her to meet me at the Rose Church in the western side of Liurnia of the Lakes, she shouldn’t be late. I have no doubt she already had her audience with the Two Fingers at the Roundtable Hold, and has already made up her mind about them and their sincerity.”
At that the demigod burst out laughing, as if he had heard the most hilarious joke in hundreds of years.
“Since my very first day of life, I have never known someone who found those nasty, hairy bags of meat appealing in any kind of way! So I trust she will be of the same opinion as I.”
The white mask faintly smiled at that, imagining how Valyssa would react upon that revolting sight.
“Staying on topic. I can tell that you’re getting fond of her… Isn’t that right?”
The man's cheeks and temples suddenly got a darker pink, the otherwise cold throne room starting to feel warmer and warmer. His low gaze gave away the already obvious answer.
The Lord of Blood’s grin grew wider at the surgeon’s reaction.
“Just as I thought. Well, I have a suggestion for you. Listen closely” the Omen said, leaning down towards Varré’s ear so he could hear him whisper loud and clear.
“If you are so adamant in craving something for yourself, because you believe you truly deserve it… Go ahead and claim it. Take it. It yours to have.”
The sentence itself made the white mask freeze for a moment. He hadn’t thought about… the next steps yet, but now that Lord Mohg had mentioned it… The sudden idea of being so intimate with his beloved, oh-so-strong Tarnished was sending positive responses to his brain and body.
“A-a very wise advice my Lord, but I fear… She might be oblivious still and may need some time before mutual feelings grow solidly within her as well.”
The enormous Omen hummed at his servant’s reasoning, but was not at all preoccupied.
“That doesn’t really matter. I encourage you to take action nonetheless. She’s has all the potential to be a perfect match for you, but you have to assert your right to her first before someone else does.”
Varré immediately nodded at that, his head leaning forward submissively.
“Of course my Lord. My deepest apologies for thinking otherwise.”
“No need. If you’re ever overwhelmed by doubts about pursuing your most profound desires, just remind yourself about dearest Miquella and I.”
Mohg sighed deeply, turning away from the surgeon to take the big withered hand that dangled from the cocoon in his, and peck the ring that adorned it.
“As soon as I brought him home, there hasn’t been a single time where I wasn’t dedicating myself to him and the whole dynasty. And now, thanks to your countless efforts and mine, he’s grown majestically and his awakening is fast approaching. And when the time is ripe, a new era, an era of Blood and Love will begin.”
He then pulled away with a faint frown, letting go of the hand in a reluctant way to face Varré again.
“Everything that I’ve done, was to his sake. So there is no doubt your Tarnished would understand, if you rushed to her aid when she needs you the most. Nobody shies away at the purest forms of love, that are care and comfort.”
The man in the white mask nodded in agreement.
“That is true, my Lord. Even the most primitive creatures instinctively seek for a refuge and the company of their own peers. In regards to the maidenless Tarnished, I will see that she is never to feel loneliness in this world.”
“Good. One more thing, though” the cursed Omen said, his tone suddenly turning more serious than before.
“As you know very well already, like the naïve, uninfluenced Tarnished that she is, she is blindly following the guidance of grace in order to locate the other shardbearers, and strip them of their Great Runes to restore the Elden Ring and become Elden Lord.”
“Of course, oh Luminary. Her next destination would be the Academy of Raya Lucaria, where it is rumored-“
“Yes, yes, but that’s not too relevant” the Omen interrupted him.
“She may travel there, if she wants, and even try to gather all the other Great Runes she earns for. The other demigods aren’t as puny and desperate for power as the late decrepit Godrick, so she might think twice about taking on them” he continued.
“And I trust that your teachings will take root splendidly within her, and show her the real path to the loyalty to the dynasty. So that she will abandon the guidance of the Two Fingers and by that, the desire to rule over the Lands Between as well.”
“But… If she were to find her way underground and reach this place in search of my own Great Rune, or if my precious Miquella’s safety was put at risk…”
The Lord of Blood’s grip on Varré’s shoulders tightened. It was not too unbearable, but it still made the surgeon's eyes widen for a second.
“It is your job to tend to that, with no hesitation, if it were to ever happen. The responsibility is yours, and I believe you don’t need further reminders.”
The man quickly shook his head at that. By then, Lord Mohg released the grip and removed the hand entirely, letting the white mask release the tension in his muscles. A relief.
Though a clawed finger made its way under his chin, gently forcing him to look straight up to his Lord’s horned visage.
“Fret not. There will be one day where you will be rewarded immensely for your hard labor and dedication to the dynasty. The strength and love I promised are not too out reach now, and if all goes well… You may even join that Tarnished in wedlock, if you so please.”
Varré’s gaze brightened up at the Luminary.
“It may be quite early to discuss this my Lord, but I’ll definitely consider the idea. It’s magnificent indeed.”
“Excellent. Well then, you’re free to go. I believe that Tarnished is heading to the Rose Church as we speak. It would be a real pity if you made her wait."
With that, the demigod finally retracted his long digit away from the man's chin.
"Besides, I have left dearest Miquella alone for a while now, I must reunite with him in his slumber. Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, Varré.”
“Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, my Lord” the surgeon replied back, as he bowed again.
His master smirked one last time before swinging his trident. A wave of vibrant blood surrounded his form and he disappeared inside, forming a small pool than slowly slithered inside the cocoon with the withered arm.
The white mask took a deep breath again.
That definitely went better than expected.
He still felt his cheeks burning underneath the marble.
Me? Wedding Valyssa?
He appreciated the Luminary’s invaluable concern and his ever-brilliant idea, but that was only a very distant thought for the moment.
We should focus more now on the initiation trials, and if it is really meant to be then she will succeed. The real challenge for her will be taming the Luminary’s blood…
He sighed one more time.
None of his beloved partners, regardless of their strength, had remained sane after being exposed to the noble blood. Turned in Bloody Fingers, their madness had caused them to lose themselves in the bloodlust.
His chest ached at the painful memories.
But she is different than the rest. I know it. A desperate, hopeful thought.
I doubt she also will attempt at usurping the Lord. She is so much better than that.
He shook his head, biting his lip.
No, that is not going to happen. He will make sure of that.
Plus, she had been so receptive to his words thus far... It’d be such a waste to throw all of that away, just to follow her own ill-advised ambitions.
She can’t be that foolish. And Luminary Mohg has never been wrong about possible love candidates. He is just making sure there are no hindrances when the Mohgwyn dynasty properly commences.
After all, it is the most important priority. Nothing else comes first.
… Though he couldn’t deny that the thought of holding her in his arms, taking in all her warmth as they laid in their own bedroom, was extremely delightful as well.
He found himself daydreaming, before realizing she would arrive at the Rose Church very soon and he had to be on his way himself. What kind of lover invites their paramour to a tryst, and then shows up late?
He chuckled at the thought, and recovered his Pureblood Knight's medal from one of his pouches and activated it; its red trident emblem sending him to the designed destination.
Once he was back in Liurnia, he made sure to reappear behind the crumbling building of the church, so that if she were to be there already she wouldn’t notice him at first glance.
Thankfully though, there was no sign of her yet, nor he could hear someone galloping towards his direction.
Wonderful. Praise the Luminary, he didn’t get lost in his train of thoughts too much to delay his arrival.
The man smiled behind the white mask, and got in position near the entrance to the church.
He only had to be patient and wait for her, now. And he had all the time to fantasize about more future events, as he did.
To Chapter 1
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wxnheart · 2 years
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Man, food for thought:
Mohg also calling the Tarnished "Little Tarnished."
And it's not like he even heard it from Morgott.
He just calls them "Little Tarnished" one day, and it's one of those things where they just kind of…
Look at him for a moment, before smiling.
Well isn't this cute? Mohg and pet names.
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sahaquiel43 · 3 months
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Imagine if the DLC ended with Morgott barging to avenge him...
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Or at least a Margit projection if he's too busy in Leyndell.
after hearing the truth, he does one last courtesy to his estranged brother, Mohg, for his dignity.
you, margit/morgott, ansbach
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boneskellar · 2 years
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I couldnt stop giggling while making this, is this the blood ending everyone wanted?
(This is my first tarnished and his name is Lennard Leonard btw)
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fenharael · 1 year
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Mohgwyn Modern AU smutshot idea
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lostgracestories · 16 days
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Henlo! If you're okay with it, do you have any headcanons for how Morgott and Mohg would handle the news that their S/O was captured, but nobody can find them so they are presumed dead? S/O survives but has to deal with the worst of their injuries before making it back home. I hope this isn't too specific, I just like to see how they would handle their grief for their S/O without actually killing their S/O (plus I am a hurt/comfort enthusiast). Love your writing and hope you're having a great day :)
This is so absolutely angsty and horrendous and I LOVE IT (hurt/comfort ftw <3) also thank you! I love writing for y'all!
Anyways, here's how I believe the twinsies would react to such a thing! (not proofread cause I'm lazy, lol)
wc: 871 tw: implied kidnapping, blood mention, injury, implied death, severe angst </3, honestly should I just use Elden Ring as my tw? lmao
Desperately and so Hopelessly Broken
Mohg
Mohg had been reeling over you for the past week since you had gone missing. Any and all plans he had were obliterated and all his resources went into finding you. He could not bear the thought of his little dove in danger.
Mohg could have sworn his legs had buckled when Varre returned to him with a cloth from one of your garments, soaked in blood and dirt. He was in denial. There was no body, you weren't truly gone... were you?
After three extra days of searching and turning up nothing, Mohg finally relented, to his utter dismay, and retreated into his favorite space in the mausoleum. It all felt so empty now. Every space he looked he could see you, smiling brightly and calling his pet name... "my heart"
For weeks the grief tore at him, ate him away. Some nights he refused to sleep, frightened that those awful nightmares would return, your soul seemingly haunting his very existence, ripping his heart from his chest.
When you showed up nearly a month after the horrible incident, he stared at you. It was the dead of night and your clothes were tattered and bloody. At first, Mohg thought it to be another one of his painful nightmares. That was until the familiar scent of you filled his senses. He barely remembered how quickly he had scooped you up into his arms, tears rolling past his fiery orange eye and dampening your cheek as he nuzzled into you.
You remember wincing in pain as Mohg snatched you up so desperately but the sheer relief of seeing him again washed away any pain you were feeling as you cupped his rough tear stained face in your hands. You reassured him, told him you were real, thanked him for working so hard to find you, and reminded him that none of this was his fault. After that, he never could let you leave his dynasty. And for the time being, that was fine with you.
Morgott
Morgott had made you promise to return to him before 8 that night. When the clock had passed 9, he assumed you were caught up in enjoying yourself at the shops. However, the moment the clock struck 10, he was out of his study and flying through the halls, his tail swiping all over in rapid thumps.
Morgott wasted no time in getting his cavalry men sent after you. he instructed them to leave no area undisturbed no matter how discrete it was or how small. He had even gone searching for you in the shunning grounds, a place he so very much despised. All of it was to no avail.
Weeks. Weeks it had been since you had vanished. Morgott was a mess. He had tried to distract himself by keeping up with work but none of it mattered. He couldn't keep his worries away from you. He prayed to the erdtree and frankly any God who would listen, that you would return to him safely.
When one of his cavalry men barged into his study so abruptly, for a moment, Morgott's heart raced, hope rising in his chest. He swore the plummet he experienced when he saw your bloodied travel pack in the man's hand was the most gut-wrenching feeling he had ever felt. He could smell it, it was your blood...
If Morgott had been a mess before, now he was utterly shattered. He had tried to convince himself to keep looking but he needed his men back in their positions and it had been nearly a month. The hope bleeding in his heart was merely an occasional drip now. Every time he was handed a report from his cavalry men, a piece of him held out hope that they had finally found you. But thus, it could not be so.
Morgott forced himself back to work, vigorously drowning himself in piles upon piles of paperwork, letters, contracts, etc. It was the only thing that kept his mind off of you.
Morgott nearly choked on air when one of his men came rushing to his room not short of yet another month without you. The man, armor smeared with dried blood wrenched Morgott from his seat, a knowing look washing over him when the man nodded and swiftly guided him to the infirmary.
The moment Morgott had his sights upon you, the most gut-wrenching sobs erupted from the knot he had been holding in his throat. He could barely keep his eye open as his trembling hands closing around his lover's cheeks as he took in the scent of you, the warmth of your skin, and the gentle sparkle in your eyes that he had so missed. For once in his life, the omen king could not find words and you instead offered him a soft smile, brushing your fingers over the backs of his hands to prove to him that you were alive.
After this, Morgott only let you leave if he or his projection was with you. If neither were feasible, it would take you desperately begging to convince him to let you go to the shops with one of his cavalry men. To be honest, you did not mind... it just reminded you of how much he truly cared for you.
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