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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 days ago

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𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛

A/N: Could you tell I love writing family AUs? This took far longer than I thought tobbe finished bit I am really happy with the outcome! Hope I made you feel the familial love I tend to feel towards certain characters like Zhongli! And this is a part of my "Pinterest Event" so anyone wants to join can do it from the link below!

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"Uhm, Your Grace... I would never dare to question your decisions but what exactly are you...holding?"

"Hmm? Oh, here, meet Morax! I found this little hatchling on the skirts of a mountain... Poor thing was left all alone. Isn't he so cute though?"

Today was a good, sunny day, just warm enough to pull someone to a sweet nap on a soft bed. It was obvious in the faces of your people too, if how they were more energetic and smiley around were any tell tale of it. The children were all out, playing with each other, adults shopping and young lovers on romantic dates... Yes, today was a really good day.

And what better way to for the Creator to spend it with their children, no?

Only suprise effect was that... You came across a baby dragon out in the wild, being lured to where it laid on a rock with soft blanket wrapped around the small body it had. So pure and innocent, yet fragile... Crying his eyes out for someone to notice and then staring at your starry eyes with curious, big amber eyes.

Oh, today was a good day and he was so cutee!

Your mother instincts that screamed at you to craddle the crying baby immediately started kicking in, softly hugging the baby between your arms as you cooed sweet things to him, which seemed like they calmed hım down as he touched your hands experimentally, all the while outstretching him towards your loyal companion, the one that had always stood beside you, none other than Phanes itself. He only gave you a confused look with a slight grimace as the baby continued babbling at him, although confused as to why he suddenly felt cold without your warm arms around him.

That was when realization dawned on him and he started to whimper, an indication that he was about to wail so high that it was enough to tear the sky of Teyvat apart.

"Oh, no... No,no baby, It's okay! I'm here! You are not alone anymore... You must have been so scared all by yourself for I know how long." You soothed the baby with a soft smile, rocking him rhytymicly while turning him around so that his head rested on your chest and could nuzzle closer to your warmth, babbling out some words that definetly agreed with what you just said and did.

When you first decided to roam the lands you created yourself, stumbling upon a wailing and lonely baby definetly wasn't what you expected to see.

Besides the fact that the said baby had horns, scales and a very cute and fluffy tail, temptinf enough to squeeze the living daylight out of it.

You remember looking around confused, worried and angry. All for those people or dragons who left their baby out like that. Anger coursed through your veins like molten lava, slow and searing, a quiet fury tempered only by the fragile bundle trembling in your arms as your eyes burned an angry orange, threatening to cut the horizon in half had it not been for the cutie hanging off of you like a koala, giggling at his attempts of climbing but failing.

How could anyone leave him like this?

But the sight of him trying to wobble to your tall and elegant form, and fail as he fell on his bum, you couldnt help the maternal love you felt surge in your soul.

"Hello, you handsome~ Oh, you're so cute but we need to give you some clothes..."

You rocked the baby gently in your arms, his tiny claws clinging to the fabric of your robes as though afraid you'd disappear if he let go. His breath came in soft, steady puffs now, warm against your collarbone. Whatever fear had once clouded his golden eyes was gone, replaced with something quieter… safer.

A weight settled on your chest. Not from the baby, although he was one hell of a chunky one, but from the unspoken question lingering in your thoughts: what now?

This wasn’t part of your plans. Not when you stepped down from your throne to walk the lands you shaped. And certainly not when you stumbled upon a hatchling curled between ancient rocks, alone and trembling.

Yet now, with each soft hum that escaped his lips, each little babble as he tried to mimic the sound of your voice, something inside you shifted.

“Mm… ba… hmmh… guh… Mmmrr…”

You slowed your rocking pace, glancing down. His brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and he repeated the syllables again, this time with more insistence. One chubby hand batted at your shiny necklace, claws barely extended as his other hand was on your chest as if he needed to make sure you wouldn't go away. You giggled at the cute babbles, making shimmering little stars around him with a flick of your hand as a brown baby robe materialized over his tiny body, making hi. let out excited screams as he tried to chase the stars with his claws.

“…Mmm… mmm-mah… mah…”

Your heart softened instantly at what his babbles sounded like, cutting right through the noncholant exterior you tried to put on for the sake of formalities as the Creator. He didn't fully know what he was saying, not yet, but the way his voice sought you out, the way he reached for your face with a bubbling laugh and a loud “Ah! Ma!” made something melt within you.

"I am here, Morax," you murmured again, testing the name on your tongue. You weren't süre why the name left your mouth like that so easily, as if it was long decided before you even knew him but it suited him. A name deep-rooted, steadfast, like the earth he would one day command unknown to both of you.

For now, he was just a clueless, slobbering, cute baby in need of warmth, and a mother.

He gave a pleased chirp in response, pressing closer. You instinctively adjusted your hold and brushed a thumb over his cheek.

As if satisfied with your response, he gave a proud little grunt and settled back into your arms, tail flicking once like a satisfied cat. Then he began again, happily stringing together nonsense syllables, some clicking, others almost like dragon chittering. A soundscape of innocence and curiosity, uninterrupted and unfiltered as he chatted with you in his own way, with his own words only he could understand.

“Ta… ruu… da-da… mmr…!”

A nearby bird chirped in answer. Morax gasped and pointed at it with both hands, babbling faster now in what may have been an attempt to mimic it. You couldn't help but laugh lovingly at the small, excited babe, but grunt when he almost threw himself towards the bird who stood on a branch and watched with a tilted head.

He was a very heavy baby after all, and you were not sure how you were supposed to carry him around.

“Are you making new friends already?” you walked tweards the small bird as you bent down for Morax to reach out to the bird, careful and hesitant despite the claws and his size. Seeing how he already knew how fragile the bird was, your starry eyes blinked at him shocked for a second as the bird hopped to him and jumped up and down around his form, allowing hım to try and catch it.

Behind you, Phanes still looked torn between amusement and alarm, arms awkwardly folded as if unsure whether to speak or bow. You offered him a faint smile, silencing the rising questions with a glance.

There was time for questions later.

For now, there was only the small life tucked in your arms, now dozing after his olay with the bird, with the kind of trust that demanded protection, and something far deeper than that. Devotion, and Love perhaps.

You took a breath, deeper than before, and began to walk. Slowly, purposefully, past the trees and stone that once knew you only as a god, despite being the Creator of All.

Now, was the the start of your adventures of the tiring experience the mortals called... Motherhood.

Adventure 1: Teething Trouble...

The sound pierced the quiet temple like a dagger.

It was the fifth time that day, maybe sixth. You'd stopped counting around the third hour of Morax’s sudden, inexplicable wailing. Not the sleepy fussing he sometimes did when he wanted to be closer, nor the soft whines of discomfort. This was something else.

Sharp. Loud. Endless.

He screamed with the lungs of a beast far larger than his tiny body should allow, face scrunched, tail flailing against the blankets you'd lovingly wrapped him in. His golden eyes brimmed with frustrated tears, and you swore the stone beneath your feet cracked slightly each time he shrieked.

You bounced him gently. Nothing.

You rocked him in your arms. Nothing.

You even summoned a soft breeze scented with sweet osmanthus, something he used to coo at. Nothing.

The wailing hadn’t stopped.

You sat in the far corner of your room, arms curled tightly around Morax’s trembling form, rocking him without rhythm, just movement. Anything. Anything to soothe him. Anything to make it stop.

But the only thing it made him do was flail around helplessly and have a cold sweat around his body from the way he screamed non-stop.

"You're not hurt," you murmured helplessly, brushing your fingers along his teary cheeks as you continued to bounce him without a stop. "You're not cold. Not hungry. Then what is it?"

But he only wailed louder, as if offended that you hadn’t understood his suffering immediately.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, voice cracking as you kissed the top of his head, murmuring to his heated akın as your eyes welled with your own tears. “I don’t… I don’t know what you need.”

He wailed again, louder, like the sound could split you open.

And maybe it did.

You’d faced monsters before, real ones. You’d seen galaxies torn in half, cities turned to dust, entire pantheons crumble beneath the weight of time.

But this... This tiny creature who looked at you with such raw, innocent trust, then cried and cried when you couldn’t help him.

This brought you to your knees.

Now you understood.

You were supposed to be a god. A creator. A divine being whose voice one word could split the entire universe and cease it to exist. And yet here you were, pacing barefoot with a howling baby dragon in your arms, his claws getting between your hair, clawing at your robes helplessly as he whined between your arms, muttering soft words and quiet pleas into his hair like any desperate parent might.

You couldn’t command the pain away. And worse, he didn’t understand why it hurt.

He only knew that it did, and that he needed you.

And you were failing him.

You pressed your forehead to his, eyes closed and tears gathering at the edges, and for the first time in so, so long... You felt small.

Is this how everyone else feels in my presence? I don't like this feeling at all...

“Please,” you murmured, not to any god, not to the heavens, just into the space between your breaths. “Please tell me how to help you.”

And still, nothing.

A flash of movement caught your eye. Phanes stood silently at the doorframe, looking like he very much wanted to say something, but also very much did not want to die. His eyes zeroed on the baby between your arms, angrily trying to bang his head against the softness of your chest as if it would make his pain go away. Seeing how he still sought you in his distress, it gave you some comfort in the middle of your self-deprecating thoughts.

"Your Highness, you should rest. A stressed mother isn't good for an already stressed baby." Phanes approached quietly, not like a subordinate, not like a worshipper, but like someone who had long since stopped pretending that he wasn’t watching you too closely.

You finally looked up at him, eyes glassy. For a moment, you looked like you might argue. Like you might refuse. But the fight was gone from you. With trembling care, you lowered yourself onto the cushioned sofa behind you, clutching Morax until Phanes knelt beside you and offered his hands.

You sighed deeply, stroking Morax’s head and shook your head. You didn't want to let him go when he needed you and you were already failing him.

“I won’t go far,” he promised. “And I’ll bring him back to you the moment he needs you.”

You hesitated. Maybe it was silly how you got attached to him so fast despite saying that you had love and care for every being in the universe, but he was now your baby and yet again... You weren't much of a help to the poor baby wailing his lungs out. So, slowly, reluctantly, you let him take Morax from your arms.

The moment the baby left your embrace, he stirred, whining weakly in confusion, his pain forgotten as the only thing he cared was that your face and warmth was away from him. But Phanes held him securely, rocking with practiced calm, and Morax, still sniffling, slumped against his chest. Still crying, but softer now that he felt his tiredness.

Phanes hummed softly to the baby as he went towards the window to show the outside to a still-growing Morax, allowing you to close your eyes a bit and let out a tired sigh. You watched him through half-lidded eyes from where you lay curled on the low resting couch, your body heavier than it had felt in centuries. The golden fabric of your robes was tangled beneath you, your hair undone, hands still faintly trembling in your lal because of the anxiety from earlier. But for now, for this one moment, you didn’t have to hold everything together.

The low, steady hum in Phanes’ throat was unfamiliar. It wasn’t the sacred hymns sung in your temples, nor the cosmic songs etched into ley lines. It was something smaller. Perhaps a lullaby from a mortal mother on Teyvat... You wondered if they were as tired and helpless as you felt now, or had they ever felt that way? It would be funny if the very same mortals you created were doing a better job in parenthood than you did.

Maybe I should disguise myself in mortal form and speak to them for possible suggestions...

Morax shrieked again, cutting your thoughts short as you winced and looked at his scrunched face with almost dilated pupils, mother instincts going ip in an instant. Although there was still pain etched on his chubby face, it soon turned into bewilderment as Phanes continued to hold him. The light filtering through the window was soft, washing Phanes in a gentle blue. He shifted Morax slightly in his arms so the child could peer out between strands of gauze-like curtain. The baby cooed faintly, rubbing his eyes, cheeks still pink from all the crying, but quiet now. And curious about what he was seeing for the first time.

He had not seen, or focused, on the night sky of Teyvat after all.

Phanes smiled faintly at that, one hand rising instinctively to support the back of the little head, and leaned a bit closer to the windowpane. “You see those stars?” Phanes whispered, lifting a hand to point just above the horizon where a pale constellation shimmered faintly, the blue and golden nebula almost seemingly blinking at the duo.

“They’re older than you. Older than most gods, even.”

He tilted his head, voice barely more than a thought now as his fond gaze soon turned to your sitting form watching hım and Morax. He couldn't help the quickening of his heart, he had been keeping his affections for you to himself for so long, almost ever since you two had started to exist together...

And he was sure of his heart doing sommersaults by the confused chirp Morax let out and lifted his head to look at him from his position of laying his head on Phanes' chest, forgetting his pain and fussing for now.

Phanes was happy that he had calmed down, despite it being thanks to his inner pain of affection for the baby's mother. At least you would be less stressed now.

“But not older than us.”

His gaze fell back down to Morax, who blinked slowly, his golden eyes flickering with reflected starlight. For a moment, he looked like something born of the heavens themselves.

"Maybe you are older than them too, since you just appeared here out of nowhere." At that, Morax let out a huge coo and smiled wide at him as if he understood him. Phanes only smiled more with an almost fatherly aura and continue with a hand over Morax's small back.

“She was the only thing in the universe that made me stop looking up… and start looking forward.”

Morax shifted slightly at his calmimg voice, a small fist curling into Phanes’ collar. The sound of his breathing was steady now, slow and soft as he listened to his father figure.

“I wonder,” he murmured, “if you’ll grow up to see what I see in her. Or if you’ll simply grow up loved, and never need to question why.”

But what caught your attention wasn't the heartful moment between them, or how Phanes held him so softly as if Morax was his son... Or how he talked so fondly of you and brought a redness you couldnt ignore to your face.

What caught your attention was the faint golden glow that came from Morax's mouth as he have a gummy smile to Phanes, the sight of just a tiny sharp thing at the corner that seemed like a sharp canine tooth catching your eyes.

Wait. Tooth?

You sprinted up and suddenly appeared next to them, with Phanes startling from your sudden presence and Morax letting out a shocked babble as his eyes widened comedically on you. You looked down slowly at the chunky baby and his open mouth as he tried eating his own fist. Okay, maybe it was gross with how much saliva was there, but he looked so cute with those huge amber eyes! You giggled fondly and took him between your arms, wrapping your arms around his bum securely as you rubbed his cheek and urged him to take his fist out of his mouth so that you can check for your suspicions.

And there it was, a faint bump on his gums.

“…Teething,” you whispered, voice hoarse in disbelief. “You’re… teething.”

The baby let out a final, dramatic sob, as if saying finally, mom, and promptly drooled down your robe as you continued rubbing the sore spot. Finally at complete ease with his mother and father next to him.

Adventure 2: Dragon Form Tantrums

Before having Morax, you never noticed how strange and overwhelming everything must be like to the youth. You’d seen children cry before. Mortals stumbling through their early days, clutching at their parents with wide, teary eyes. You’d even soothed some with your touch, gentle as the morning breeze, and thought you understood.

Sure, the objects were much taller and bigger than anticipated and the voices were as loud as possible for their poor ears to bleed, there was something you didn't think about before. The light too bright. The air too cold. Voices too loud, even when spoken in love.

And while mortal infants reacted with tears and flailing limbs…

Morax was not mortal.

Morax… was a baby dragon.

And you know what dragons do when they’re overwhelmed?

They roar.

Not metaphorically. Not with a sniffle or a stomp. An actual, ground-shaking, air-trembling roar.

Oh, and apparently, they burn everything around them too.

It began as a quiet whimper first, the kind you thought meant he wanted to be held. He had been restless as of now, and no, it wasn't because of teething this time. He would hold his little forehead with his hands, sometimes headbutt things with his thick skull, yeah, you didn't know he had a literal rock-hard forehead and panicked when you saw him headbutt a marble table, and turn around on your bed as he whined.

You didn't understand what was wrong... Well, lucky for you, he would soon show it to you himself thanks to that shiny rock you got from another universe, with its blue and golden hues and shimmering surface.

It was after he and you were sitting in your chambers, with you showing things he had never seen before, as per Phanes' suggestion.

It is good for his developing brain, he should experience different structures and use all of his senses, he said as he attempted to make Morax step onto the grass... But failed since Morax would draw his legs to his body and bent himself so that he wouldn't be touching the offending creature that was this green monster.

He was even clutching his tail closer to himself too, and that made you wheeze non-stop as you bent over the table you had in your garden, the three of you out for a family time together. You couldnt jelp the giggle that escaped you when Phanes came and sat down next to you with Morax on his lap, pouting since his son wasn't showing interest in the nature like he did.

But hey, at least he got a sweet peck on ghe corner of his mouth from you as you played with his hair and rubbed Morax's belly as he gurgled happily. That was a win-win for both son and father, no?

So, since he showed great disinterest to nature, you opted to show him things inside the palace: Above the wardrobe in your room, then the map of Teyvat that appeared on your command in the meeting room, then a heavy book from library and allowed him to have it on his lap as he turned the pages.

But when you showed him the shiny rock you got him because you thought he would like it, he just stared at it with horrified eyes.

And started whining.

Not understanding what was wrong, you’d just bent down to offer your arms when his pupils shrank to pinpricks, and a golden gleam pulsed beneath his skin. His little claws dug into his robes, and arms became literal rocks as his tail stiffened, lashing once.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh no.”

And then he screamed.

But not just a cry. No, this was an echoing, ancient-blooded bellow, the kind that belonged to a beast far older and larger than the soft, sniffling bundle in your arms.

Note 1: Never underestimate a baby by its sheer small size. The shorther one is, the closer they are to the gates of hell...

The curtains trembled at his roar, your porcelain tea set that was given to you by your people on Sumeru laid shattered.

A nearby plant wilted out of sheer fear, the chimera pet you created because Morax seemed too lonely, ran away in fear and right under your duvet as it peeked around.

And then... Morax burst into his miniature dragon form. Claws, scales, golden horns. Still small enough to perch on your arm, but now full of fire and emotion with no way to process either.

And heavy. Heaviver than he already was.

At this rate, I am going to have arm muscles...

He flapped his wings in raw frustration, tears still welling in his slitted eyes, and let out another high-pitched screech that sounded like a mountain cracking open as he threw the rock away from him, making it roll and roll... Until it dropped down from the edge of the balcony and right onto a poor, unsuspecting Phanes .

You stared at Morax.

Motax stared at you.

Then, another wail. Oh, and was that a ley line bloom?

You sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Oh stars. We’ve reached tantrum stage.”

And that was the day you learnt he was just sensitive to Geo element and that rock gave off bad aura vibes to him.

(It was the leyline power surging through it a little bit stronger than the usual rocks on Teyvat, since it was from beyond it.)

Adventure 3: First Words

You rocked gently in your seat, swaying as you held Morax in your arms as the night breeze outside rushed in softly, almost softly caressing the sleeping baby's body like a soft blanket, your little Morax's body, as his breaths were like the warm sunlight against your collarbone.

He was quiet now, after a long day of small frustrations. A tumble he didn’t know how to process, a sound he didn’t like, and a smell that made his little nose wrinkle. He had cried, loud and fierce as usual, his wings trembling, little claws grasping for you in panic. And you had done all you could: hold, hum, hush, rock.

Other times, he was happy and energetic as he ran around with your people and Phanes. Sometimes it was a simple strategy game where he was a king leading his people just like his mom (read: you) did. Sometimes it was a simple chasing game, and sometimes it was hide-and-seek.

Now he was calm, blinking slowly up at you with heavy eyes, golden and wide, his thumb tucked into his mouth.

You smiled softly and tucked a curl of his hair behind a tiny horn, watching him bury himself deeper under your night gown as you two sat under the duvet while watching the night sky outside. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit you out of nowhere as you stared down at the sleepy baby between your arms, suddenly remembering the first time you found him out in the wild, lonely and defenseless.

You two had come so far together, with him changing you each day where you learned a new thing from him. Like the way he loved collecting shiny rocks, tinkering with an object in your palace that came from a distant world, crafting something from the most simple think (he once made a small vase with flowers from mud and after carefully heating it up, after many failed attempts, had presented it to you as his gift. Even to this day, that vase is still presented proudly in the palace.)

Or... The way he seemed to love spending money. You thought it was more about you being the source of Mora, which meant endless money but that is a talk for later.

All in all, just as he grew up a lot, you felt like you grew up with hım too. Once a colder, more noncholant Creator whose job was to create non-stop, now you found a passion and extra love in doing it. You were more in touch with the humanity, often visiting them in a disguise tobhear about their problems, making sure they were protected and fed. And you were more relaxed too. Not stressed and pressed to do a lot of meeting, visiting other planets and civilizations and all. Now, you let your other creations, the Angels, to do your job for you, essentially wanting them to learn the way so that maybe, you could one day retire and live as a mortal after giving your authority to them.

“You gave me quite the scare, little one. You’re growing faster than I thought.”

Your hands absentmindedly played with the flowing baby curls he had at the top of his hair. Suprisingly, or not, all of his attire and physical appearance screamed Geo: Amber eyes that shone like lava, brown and golden tinted hair that reminded you of the soft orange-brown hue the sky would have at the sunset...

Your son was trully the embodiment of Geo, perhaps.

He blinked again, head slowly tilting up to follow the sound of your voice. He always looked at you like you hung the stars yourself, like you had birthed the world and all its warmth. You definitely did that with the worlds. The warmth? You weren't sure about that, especially the versiyon of you before having him, but to Morax, maybe you had.

He stared for a moment longer, then opened his mouth. Then closed it again as if he was thinking about a very hard question, brows scrunched up in concentration.

And very softly, broken and hoarse in the way all first words are, he whispered:

“Ma...”

Your breath caught. Your hands stilled on his hair as you heart strates to beat hard as if it threatened to burst out and hug Morax protectively.

His hand reached up and rested clumsily against your cheek, as though trying to confirm that you were really there. That this warmth, this safety, this love… had a name now.

“Mama,” he tried again, this time a little stronger. He smiled wider at seeing your smile, proudly as he huffed his tiny chest out for making you smile.

Your heart, already so full, overflowed. And yet, your eyes might have been hurting and left to be as small spots because of the tiredness but what did it even mean when compared to what you felt right now?

It was like a whole carnaval in there! Happiness because he was growing healthy, sadness because he was growing up fast, excited because of the possibilities of the words he could learn, fear if you would be able to raise hım into a young gentleman correctly...

But for now... Perhaps, focusing on the present and using sleepy was a better choice of word.

You pressed a kiss to his brow, your lips lingering on his skin a little bit longer than a simple moment and cradled him even closer as you laid on your back, soon putting him next to yourself on his back as your hand formed a protective half-loop around his round belly, your fingers trembling slightly.

From love, çare, tenderness, fear and pride for all he was.

Huh... You used to wonder, after seeing the struggle of many mothers, why female humans were actively seeking out this struggle named motherhood. Their lives were forever changed, their body and brains, their ideals, everything would forever change and yet... Despite knowing their life as a simple woman was gone, and now their whole life and fate revolved around that tiny baby that needed guidance, the teary smiles you witnessed too many times on their faces said enough.

That the moment they held their baby was worth any struggle.

And although you didn't understand humans', despite creating them yourself... Another thing changed about you with the tiny being that was Morax.

You understood the motherhood and being ready to sacrifice it all for the safety of your own child.

And looking at the sleeping face of Morax, his cheeks squeeshed under himself and drool leaking down... You accepted that you were his mother.

Adventure 4: Possessive Baby Instincts

You’d always known dragons could be territorial. You were the one who made them, come on, their hoarding instincts comes from you who has a thing for shiny big things!

But you hadn’t expected it to manifest in the form of a pudgy, golden-eyed toddler growling at anyone who dared get too close to you. Whether it was a mortal offering flowers at your shrine, a passing bird that landed too near your shoulder, or poor Phanes trying to hand you tea, Morax’s reaction was the same: a narrowed stare, a sharp little "Ma... ma... Mine", and the immediate claiming of your lap, sleeve, or entire torso.

It didn’t matter that he was small enough to fit in the crook of your arm. He made it very clear that you belonged to him, and any creature (celestial or otherwise) who disagreed would be met with an indignant squeal and a possessive tail-wrap around your arm.

Not that it would make much difference or hurt. But it was true that he seemed scarier when he was trully angry, even your Angels agreed on it silently.

His possesiveness didn't only include others though, as most babies did. His was on another level and if anyone thought you were overreacting, there was this one accident that you would always tell them:

Morax caught a glimpse of himself in a polished mirror once, just once. His golden eyes, his horns, scales and fluffy tail and doesn’t recognize himself. He thought there’s another baby dragon and immediately becomes defensive and scared you would focus on that baby more.

The next thing you knew, he screeched angrily and attacked his reflection, headbutting it and causing it to break.

That was the day he realized he existed, and you had to try explain why a mirror did that and what a mirror was to a three-year-old toddler and why he couldn't headbutt everything he saw, something he had been doing a lot lately.

(cue your soon-to-born second son Barbatos and his nickname for Morax in the coming years)

Another event where he showed his possesiveness of his mother was social interactions.

It didn’t matter whether you were speaking to a mortal child asking for help or an immortal envoy delivering news. If a conversation with you lasted longer than a few polite words, Morax would make his opinion very known. At first, it was subtle. A tiny claw curling around the edge of your robe. A low, almost imperceptible huff from where he sat on your hip. But if the interaction continued, if someone so much as laughed at something you said, his entire body would stiffen, and the little dragon in him would awaken.

He’d squirm in your arms, puts himself between you and the offending party, and plant his palm firmly on your cheek with a possessive grunt. A clear message: She’s mine. No more talking. Go away.

No one did take him seriously though, not with all that chub he had.

And if that didn’t work?

He'd bite. Nothing harmful though. Just a baby nibble on your collar or your sleeve, staring the other person down with narrowed, burning gold eyes while his little claws clamped into your clothes like he was anchoring himself to his claim.

What's more, he gets jealous when anyone else hugs you. He toddles over, scrunches his face as if he was disgusted by the sheer audacity of the person, and climbs on you like a koala, unwraps your arms around that person and instead hugs you to himself.

It was worse when it was a child. But you weren't gonna talk about it... Morax could hear it. He had that sixth sense. And tou were sure the very same land you created betrayed you for Morax.

You once tried to hand him to Phanes so you could focus during an important meeting with the leaders of the nations at that time. Since, you know, you are the Creator and the children needed guidance.

Morax couldn't care less. What was guidance anyways?

He responded by letting out a high-pitched roar mid-sentence as he was taken from you and flinged himself back into your lap like he’d been wrongfully exiled from his throne.

It was sweet. A little exhausting. Mostly sweet.

But it also meant you had to start conducting divine diplomacy with a dragon toddler glaring over your shoulder like a very squishy, very judgmental guardian spirit. Resulting with no one focusing on the topic and instead staring at the cute baby between your arms, cooing internally at the sight.

And sometimes, it wasn't just someone that caused his possesive streak. Sometime it was just you stepping into the next room to grab a cloth. He doesn’t see you. Cue instant betrayal howling. He doesn't understand where you went, assumes you're gone forever, and lets the whole plane of existence know.

You just went to another room for five minutes.

But everything would cease to exist, all the annoyance and frustration that bubbled up inside you because you couldn't have some me-time to yourself... When he would lay over your chest, or try to seek you out whenever he was met with something strange, tears sitting at the edge of his lashes, his lips wobbly as he ran towards your form in the distance, with you closing it as you also walked to him slowly and opened your arms wide for him to settle.

He saw you as his safe space, his anchor to this world...

There were times you caught your reflection, messy hair, clothes stained with who-knows-what, eyelids heavy and almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were once a being of divine power, the Creator, the one they prayed to from the mountains and the sea. But now, you were arms to be held in. A lullaby to be hummed. A heartbeat to fall asleep to.

You were his entire world.

And frankly, that mattered to you more than being the Creator of Universes.

This wasn’t just motherhood. It wasn't about being the Creator and revered because of it, because people feared you more than they loved you.

It was about being chosen. Needed. Loved in the most raw, vulnerable way a child could love, without expectation, without conditions.

He didn’t care that you were tired. Or that you still hadn’t brushed your hair. Or that you hadn't meditated or floated among the stars in weeks. Or responded to prayers and demanded passive angrily an answer.

And to some, it may seem like selfishness and even manipulation but to you and him... You knew what this meant.

To Morax, you were just enough as the way you were.

Morax didn’t understand everything when he was a baby. Not language, not memory, not even the strange ache that sometimes swelled in his chest when you stepped away. He was just a baby after all, thrusted into this world by the biological parents that was supposed to protect him but decided to let him die on the wild.

But he knew you, you who stepped up and raised him.

He knew your scent, the rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of your hands. He knew the way your voice vibrated through your chest when you hummed lullabies into his hair. He knew that your arms were the safest place in a world that still felt too big, too loud, too sharp around the edges.

When he curled against you, chest to chest, tiny claws gripping your clothes, he felt something ancient and unshakable settle inside him.

You were his.

His calm, his safe space, his home, his family...

Not in the fierce, growling way he chased off others. But in the quiet, soft way he pressed his forehead to your shoulder when he was too tired to cry anymore. In the way he reached for your finger in his sleep, just to be sure you were still there. In the little chirring sounds he made when you smiled at him, like your joy had become his own.

He didn’t have the words for love. And everyone close to him knew that he was bad with expressing himself with words, and it wasn't because he was a brute like a certain teal-eyes annoying brat called him to be.

It was because showing it and making the other feel it was a better way than simply saying it hollow words.

But he gave it to you all the same, in the only ways he could at that time: messy kisses with teeth, snuggles with wings tucked tight, and the stubborn, burning need to never be too far from the one who made the world feel safe.

Morax, the God of Contracts, walked the halls with careful steps, his hands behind his back, his brows less furrowed than usual. His shoulders bore the weight of centuries, of promises, of blood spilled in honor, of War and horrors, of empires born and buried. Yet as he passed under the arched doorway into the heart of the sanctuary, his posture shifted. Eased, softened at seeing the person he was searching for.

From behind you, a voice... steady and deep, yet softened in a way it never was elsewhere sounded.

"Mother."

There stood Morax, The Geo Archon, war-forged and tempered by centuries, with eyes like polished amber and a presence like immovable stone. But those same eyes softened when they met yours, crinkling faintly at the corners in a smile few were allowed to see, the way they did when he was small and too overwhelmed to speak, and his voice softening much like the time when he was still a small boy clutching at the ends of your robes.

He had changed so much and yet not at all at the same time. How it was possible, you didn't know but maybe it was just the feeling a mother would always have when she had her children near herself after so long.

“Have you eaten today?” you asked gently, your voice untouched by time, your motherly love still present even after your children had outgrown you a lot and now you had to tilt your head up to look at them, and became the leaders of their own nations.

You expected words. There were always matters of state, of divine balance, of mortal concerns he took too heavily upon his shoulders. Especially after founding Liyue, "his baby" as you affectionately called it by how hard he was trying to protect them.

Instead, he lowered himself slowly, carefully, and sat at your feet, the way he did when he was small and the world felt too big. He rested his head against your knee, his horns and tail brushing your robes, something he always did whenever he was in your presence, not seeing it necessary to hide his true self with the only person that saw all of him throughout the times they spent together.

And just like that, he wasn’t the Archon anymore.

He was your little dragon, grown tall and weary, seeking solace not in wisdom or stone, but in something far older: your touch and love.

There were no formalities between you. No kneeling, no praise. Just a boy returning to the only being who ever held him without expectation.

In the world, he was Archon. A protector. A legend.

But here…

He was simply your son.

And that was enough.