Work Text:
The one who chose the way of domination and greatness was deprived of happiness and calmness.
With the smile of forgotten father on his face Morax was creating the new world — as the one who chose the way of power, he was suffering from this cursed might himself. He had never seen you, the Archon of Moon, but he heard enough about you.
Your people loved you deeply: you were protecting their fragile land, your bright stars helped lost sailors to find their way home. You lived as a hermit, enjoyed your peaceful isolation. You didn’t talk to your people, and you didn’t need them — they were seeking protection only, and you caused an eclipse every time intruders tried to find your land of appeasement and beauty. You let them join your neverending night, and they screamed prayers and praises when they saw the crescent shining in your hair. They fell on their knees when falling stars appeared in the sky, as they thought of it as a sign of your favor to them. They didn’t know the cruel reality: the beautiful falling stars with brilliant trails were your tears. Attached to the mother Moon, you spend hours in the Sky praying to her and taking care of her wounds, which were left by the war between Archons — the distant luminary had suffered too, and tears streamed down your face when you felt slow pulsation of living powers under her dusty ground becoming fast and chaotic as her wounds started to hurt from your light touches.
Morax visited your land on a chilly night of a hot summer. He crossed the restless sea to offer you a union — you shuddered when his piercing golden eyes looked at you with interest and desire. He was gorgeous: the sharp ends of his refined horns were glistening in the moonlight, the tough face of a warrior and heavy dragon tail reminded you of his nature — nature of a guard made of stone. His deadly calloused hands were clothed with a silk gloves, but you could feel how cold his skin was.
Morax wanted your land to become a part of his empire. For you, a lonely Archon without friends or a family, he could be a brother, even a father as he was much older and wiser than you. You just needed to pass him your territory and your people, but you knew: he wanted more, and the predatory glimpse in his eyes frightened you. Morax wanted to rule the whole world and own every soul that was weaker than him. The Devil had an ego of a God — and he saw you as his property.
‘Tribulations will leave you,’ He let himself touch your warm hand and squeezed it until your bones crunched, the coldness of his skin burnt your delicate palm. 'I will give you everything you want. Fate gifted you with my curiosity about you. Why do you want to be free when you were created to obey me?’
You were afraid, and Morax could feel it — soft chuckle escaped his lips when your eyes rounded in panic. The finest gemstones from Liyue were nothing compared to your lovely eyes, as bright as endless stars — and Morax wanted you to look at him only, or he would snatch them out your brittle skull.
You wanted to run, you wanted to hide from him: you were suffocating from his audacity, but the World was changing and you were nothing against the Archons like him. To survive you needed to accept his offer, but you refused: the Moon turned away her face in mourning, and dark went on the earth. It was a sign for Morax to leave.
Like a waterfall, falling stars covered your home: in the torrid air you could hear the whispering of snakes, and they told you to accept their Lord. You could feel the phantom touches on your hot sweaty skin, could hear the snakes under your long dress. Helpless, you were crying and praying for Celestia to protect you, to never let this asp see you again, but Celestia was deaf for your woe.
You didn’t expect to see the terrifying Seven Archons desecrating the Sky. They won — and They covered the stars and the Moon with the fake Sky, created the barrier between reality and lands of Theirs. You ran out to stop them; the sharp spear in your hands was ready to tear apart the degrading parody on a miracle created by true Gods, but the bright light of crescent in your hair attracted the Shadow Shogun.
The might of thunder and biting lightning got the spear out of your hands, and heavy rain poured from the clouds. Her indifferent purple eyes made you take a step back: you were much smaller, much clumsier and callow than the Shogun. You were an obstacle to Their plan, and the Shogun didn’t hesitate to draw out her sword to kill you, a paltry Archon that was alive by a miracle.
Morax felt your scent in the thick and moist air — the sweet aroma of a woman younger than him. Your skin still had notes of the powdery scent of baked milk and peach: the scent that reminded Morax of a holiday and happiness, the scent of his forgotten childhood. You were scared and vulnerable — it was time for him to capture you and own your land.
The Electro accumulated her blade, turning silver metal into pure purple colour. The Shogun didn’t pay attention to the figure of the great dragon that covered the remains of the Moon, and it was too late for you to run away. Morax attacked the Shogun, and she didn’t dare to hurt him. When you turned your head to Morax, you saw only gargantuan jaws that immured you inside his mouth. The only thing left after you was the delicate shine of crescent in dragon’s maw.
Morax carried you to his castle — your new home was already prepared for you. He was planning to attack you and own your territory in a fair fight, but now he was a hero who saved the little Archon — and you lost your right to hate him. Now you were obliged to him, and he wanted you to be his wife.
You woke up in a dark room surrounded by a motley sparkle of gemstones in the dusk golden light. It was a warm place, even hot for you; you moved, and heard a dissatisfied sigh. The ground under you shifted, you grabbed an outgrowth of gold, afraid to fall down. You realised that you were sleeping on Morax, who stayed in his dragon form.
It was strange and confusing for you. You went down carefully; his muzzle caressed your face, and he looked at you, waiting for your reaction. The atmosphere was calm and intimate, unusual for you. You looked away, soft blush appeared on your cheeks.
Morax was caring, but possessive — you never saw the Moon from the moment he haf caught you, and he had always assured you that she was okay. The Moon wasn’t in pain anymore, and you were free from your serving. You wanted to believe him, but spend your nights looking in the window in attempt to see the real her again. You couldn’t leave the castle, even tears on your face couldn’t convince him to let you see the Moon only for a minute. You had to obey — or he would turn you in the stone.
It was hard for Morax to keep the human form for long — unlike you, he was born as a dragon. You became used to spending your time with him, patting his black scales or playing with his tail. Morax found your games silly, heaved a sigh when you used his tail like a skipping rope, but purred softly when you plaited the fur around his neck in braids. Your hobby was exploring various gems he kept in his room. As a dragon he was attracted to collecting and creating beautiful things. For you Morax created a new gem — the moonstone, so you would stop missing your Moon and focus on him.
He didn’t tell you what happened to your people, because you weren’t a ruler anymore. Now everything yours became his, and you didn’t need to think about it. Your new job was simple: he wanted you to make him happy and entertain him. He loved to spend time with you in his gardens, felt blessed every time your lips parted in awe from the breathtaking veiws of flowers and trees.
The earth loved you — flowers grew under your steps and trees gifted him with delicious fruits if you touched them. You brought fruitfulness and endless blooming of nature to his home, your presence by his side eased his fate. You helped everything to bring offspring, and your own body craved for a child inside. You tried to hide your readiness to be a mother, but Morax could feel your scent changing. Your body became impatient for his tender touches, simple hugs under the peach trees turned into passionate love making in your room. You were shy of him at first, but now you craved to be full of his seed, and Morax did his best to make you orgasming under him.
You traced dragon scales on his skin with your soft fingers, kissed his sensitive horns to play with his patience — and when his tail hugged your waist, it was a sign for you to prepare. He kept you close to him, his mouth never left your body. Morax needed your womanhood spasming around him to devour your female energy, your pleasure was atop his — female energy made his life longer and prosperous. You felt his cock throbbing inside your tight cunt and your muscles were clenching around his length from all the satisfaction he brought to you. Morax pressed your legs to your chest to increase chances of his seed to create a baby inside your cunt, his fingers massaged your breasts like they were full of milk and needed his special care. You were crying for him to fuck you faster and rougher, but he couldn’t let himself be cruel with your petite body. His teeth left marks on your neck and shoulders, Geo filled your veins and his sign appeared on the backside of your neck. Morax rubbed your overstimulated clit to intense your senses and feel your wetness spurting out your stuffed hole, watching you shaking under him with sadistic pleasure. He didn’t leave you until his cum made a bulge on your lower belly. He wanted to be sure you would carry his child in your pretty womb.
When your pregnancy was confirmed he made a seven day celebration for people in Liyue. He couldn’t wait for you to give birth to his baby — and the child was growing faster than you expected. It took only a half of a year for the baby to become ready to see the world. Morax was with you, protecting you and easing your pain. You birthed a boy, and he looked just like his father: with thick black hair; dragon scales were shining on his arms and small tail was wiggling on itself, as your son couldn’t control it for now.
Your baby was crying every time you or Morax laid him in bed, so you created a cradle from the crescent — he liked the subdued white shine from the former Moon and softest bed sheets from the clouds and stars, tried to catch the light with his chubby hands, lulled himself with his quiet giggles.
Morax carried his son from flesh near his heartless chest: the perfection itself, with the sweet milk from you under a small tongue, and eyes brighter than gold from him.
As the one who chose the way of domination and greatness, Morax was ready to die protecting the dearest property of his: his son and his wife, who brought the joy to the life of endless battles.