Thread by @morphasia4

Zhongli / Childe / Osial twt thread. Established Zhongchi / Chili, past (unended) Osial / Zhongli.
NSFW, All mentioned in pairing switch.
Moderate angst. Potential dubcon / dubious consent.
Mute thread to avoid triggering topics, please.
Thread starts below!

Childe has established, long before their nights tangled into the bedsheets, discussing how he plans fully to discard the Fatui once their usefulness has reached a limit, that he plans on conquering the entire world.

Once, Zhongli might have taken it as a joke.

This was no secret. Childe was ambitious, rambunctious-- enough that Zhongli has rarely been able to take him to performances without leashing him in some way, to keep him from joining the performers.

Perhaps that's one of the many things he likes about him.

He's a little less fond of the distant, venomous look in his eyes as he stares out over the Millelith and the Fatui both, warriors who will never hold a candle to him. There's a conqueror's blood in the young man. It puts Zhongli between a rock, and a hard place.

It's uncontrollable, unpredictable, and... ill suited for one who would undoubtedly truly be cut down in battle.

It reminds him of someone.

They're sitting at one of the restaurants bordering the ocean when that look crept back into Childe's stare, making him distant.

"...I propose a contract," Zhongli stated, at length, drawing his attention back to himself. Childe laughs, a little taken off guard, but good natured enough to grin.

"Have we been dating for long enough for a marriage contract, xiansheng?" It's a foolish, endearing joke.

Normally, it might have brought color to Zhongli's cheeks--coupled with the name of formality, which he had long told Childe he didn't have to keep up.

When Zhongli neither smiles nor returns the joke, Childe's grin drops. "...how so?"

It invites Zhongli to continue.

Tentatively, Zhongli turns his teacup in hand, watching the debris of leaves twist at the bottom. "You have made it no secret that you will do anything to get power," he spoke at length, gaze flicking up, sharp and golden.
"What would you do for immortality? The power of a god?"

Reckless and immediate, Childe beamed.

"Anything."

"Even give up your plans of domination? Of control?" Zhongli starts, slowly and tentatively enough to not warrant another immediate agreement. It was easy for Childe to say things he likely didn't mean. Fatui were trained in it.

Childe paused. "...anything," he repeats.

Zhongli does not know why he's offering. In a way, it's the fault of an immortal, to toy with the drive of humans, to put them at risk. No matter if love was part of it or not.

It was in a God's nature to ask for sacrifices and to offer trials, wasn't it?

He lifts his teacup, making Childe wait, as if hoping his answer will change.

It does not.

"I'm sure that you are aware that killing a God causes a tremendous backlash of energy. Traditionally, no mortal can survive it."

"Like the Goddess of Salt."

Ah, of course news of his expedition into Sal Terrae would have reached a Harbinger nearby. "Correct."

"Subjugating a God, taking their power, is another story entirely."

"You mean like taking their Gnosis?" Childe starts tentatively, debating over the fact that he had yet to recover Zhongli's-- despite his intention to, sooner or later.

"In a manner of speaking--but also managing to wield the Gnosis yourself."

Childe's eyebrows hiked high in surprise, and he leaned back into his chair. "It's possible for a mortal to do that?"

"...If they are strong enough, yes." Zhongli's look is telling. Childe is strong.

Stronger than most mortals Zhongli has ever met.

"I don't exactly see any gnosises....gnosi?" Childe pauses in thought, tapping his foot reslessly. "Just laying around, do you?"

"Osial is merely sealed. Not dead."

Childe's foot tapping stops immediately.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Zhongli replies, quiet and solemn. "I wish to have you by my side for much longer than your mortal body will allow, and I want you to cease these attempts at conquering the world. I will allow you past his barrier, if you do."

Childe let out a low whistle. "...That's certainly a contract to offer, xiansheng. If I die fighting him?"

"Is that not how you wish to go out? In a fight worthy of you?"

Childe's expression twists into a smile. "You know me so well."

"Do you accept the terms of my contract?" Zhongli cuts short, wanting nothing more than to not split the finer details.

Childe's eyes close for a long moment, debating over the chance. The opportunity. When they open again, he reaches out to take Zhongli's hand. "I do."

It feels strangely like a wedding vow.

They take the next boat out to the Guyun Stone Forest, because of course Childe can't wait. He never can.

But he had made his promise, and Zhongli would keep him to the contract. In one of the many caves of the pillars his spears had formed, they come to a normal stone wall.

As Childe watches, Zhongli lifts his arms, peeling back layer after layer of stone without ever touching it.

"I will make a hole in the barrier that only your exact size and shape can pass through. It will close after two days."
If he didn't return by then, he was likely dead.

Childe looks to him, before giving him that infectious, easy grin once more.

"Give me a kiss for good luck, xiansheng?"

Zhongli's fingers brush out, tugging Childe closer without any hesitation, pulling him into a crushing kiss, shattering Childe's expectations like he might a pebble.

His tongue pressed deep, subduing Childe's like a message to not forget who he belonged to.

As if he would need the reminder. Still a little dizzy on his feet from it, he opened his mouth as if to speak again--but Zhongli simply pushed him into the barrier, into this trial of trials. The wall of golden energy only allows them to see the silhouette of one another.

Childe turns, and faces the long, spiraling staircase that lead down into the heart of the earth-- down to Osial's prison.

It reminds him of the Abyss.

(Poll time. Does Childe fight a human form Osial, or a monster form?)

(One more poll: who WINS their fight?)

Childe had perhaps been expecting a creature of waves and tendrils and monstrous proportions. The cavern beneath the sea is massive, as if it would fit such a being.

Instead, at the heart of it, glows a man upon a throne fashioned of carved stone. He must have made it himself.

Childe cannot help but wonder if he is a man of such beauty naturally, or simply because he is a god. He didn't have much frame of reference beyond Zhongli, but he knew they chose their own forms.

His skin is darker than Zhongli's, a warm bronze.

His hair betrays something unnatural about his magic; though it was a charming blue not unlike Childe's Hydro vision, the tips tinged silver like seafoam in moonlight, long, but carefully restrained into an elaborate, braided coil at the back of his head, the rest spilling low.

His clothing reminds Childe of what one might wear when beckoned to the Jade Chamber, before it had been so unceremoniously dropped on the god before him. Elaborate. Silk.

Provocative, but dangerous. He can see both shoulders exposed, but his neck covered.

He takes a single step forward, reaching for his bow, and Osial opens his eyes.

They're as blue as Childe's own, but the depth of them, the touch of a brighter blue, glows like a spiral. A vortex. His eyes are deep in their intensity, the lids painted in silver shadow.

He sees Childe's hand on his weapon, but only smirks, slowly, curling a fist under his cheek. Elaborate, silver claw rings hug each finger, attached to the lacelike chains of his gloves.

"You, mortal. You are the one who broke my last seal. What /are/ you doing here?"

Childe can't help but feel the other is being patronizing with how bemused he sounds--as if he has found a mouse in his cupboard, trapped and helpless.

The redhead puts on his most arrogant smile, lifting his bow like he might a sword, all for dramatics.

"I've come for your gnosis. Since you're supposed to be having a nice, long nap under the ocean, you don't /need/ it anymore, do you?" His grin is sharp.

Osial's eyes narrow.

He stands, robes shifting around him like little waterfalls as he descended his throne, his head held high. "A mouthy little thing, aren't you? And who has told you of things such as a gnosis?"

"You've been down here for far too long, haven't you? You're clueless."

Childe has often learned the most potent way of getting the best fights was to piss off his opponents ahead of time. It has rarely gone poorly.

Unfortunately, one moment he is standing, and the next he has been backhanded so fiercely he nearly embeds into the nearby rock wall.

It stuns him into silence for a moment, though he narrowly avoids the punch into the rock where he was, only seconds before, by rolling to the ground. It would not be a fight where he'd be allowed range.

He drops his bow, and summons the dual blades of water to his hands.

It gives him a chance. Osial is /fast/--faster than Childe expected, after watching the lumbering beast of many tentacles and faces nearly tearing through the Liyue Harbor.

He gets in a block with his blade outwards, blocking an arm from bringing those ring claws against him.

It cuts Osial's arm cleanly--

Only for Childe to watch as the wound seals itself with a swirl of water, warping the skin of his body together again, as if it had never been cut. Regeneration. As fluid as water.

The shock of Childe watching it lets Osial kick him smoothly across the cavern, but that only makes his blood pump faster.

It's a fight the likes of which he had only ever had with his master. It was the fight he had expected from Zhongli.

He was living for it.

At this rate, maybe dying for it.

No matter how many blows he lands, Osial seems to heal up.

When his riptide seals over the other's chest, marking the skin and glowing, like a target, Osial stops, and laughs.

"I see. One of the 'Hydro' Archons', are you? Labeled under one banner, my stolen responsibilities."

Osial closes the distance between them, and grabs him again, slamming him to the ground by the throat.

He bore his teeth, those sharp teeth, fangs, and snarled sweetly.

"Were I not trapped here, you would be labeled one of /mine,/ with these abilities."

There's something surprisingly bitter, almost heartbroken about Osial's words, and Childe doesn't miss how the god suddenly freezes, pressing closer.

He drew in a slow, steady breath.

"You're Morax's, too," Osial mutters softly. Accusingly.

Childe suddenly feels as if he's been wrapped up in a much more intricate situation than what he expected.

"Is that what it is? He's sent his new favorite to kill his old?"

Childe's stomach twists. "Shut up."

Osial smiles. It's an unkind look. "You didn't know."

Childe's hand jerks up, digging at Osial's wrist at his throat, which is no longer choking him. No, if anything, the touch is almost gentle.

"He sent you here to kill me, without ever telling you that /I/ used to be his, too."

Childe bore his teeth, feral.

"No. I came here for your gnosis only, and I will use it better than you /ever/ have."

It's Osial's turn to be surprised, but his teeth bore still, he tilted over Childe, brushing sharp on the redhead's cheek.

"No. You won't be able to wield it."

His fangs brush his ear.

"Not without me."

Childe's breath shakes from him, cautious. "What are you getting at?"

"You will never be able to unlock the full power of his gnosis. Not in the ways I have. Not in the ways I have cultivated here, alone, for thousands of years. Let me become part of you." He laughs, softly.

"Carry my soul with you. Carry my spirit and my gnosis from this place."

The brush of fang becomes the brush of tongue, just under his ear.

"I will give you power the likes of which this world has never seen."

Childe goes tense, before a shaky, malicious smile crawls across his features.

"...And what do I lose?"

Osial's fingers remove from his throat and settle against his side, threatening to slip lower.

"I draw on our power--/your/ power, when I wish."

"And other times?"

"There will be no other times. You are interesting, my little mortal, and I want to see the places you will go, even if it must be through your eyes."

Childe exhales slowly, and closes his eyes.

"Give me your power, Osial. All of it."

Osial's breathy laugh is warm against his jaw for how cold the cavern system is--but then again, Childe is so much warmer in comparison. "Give yourself to me, then. Prove to me that your body can handle me and my strength."

Determined as ever, Childe reaches up.

One by one, he undoes the buttons and ties of his clothing, while Osial leans back on one elbow to watch- and appreciate- just how willing Morax's own little human undresses for him.

So eager for power. So ready to demand for it, to trade for it, to earn it.

(Another short poll.)

"So covered in scars, little mortal," Osial hums as he sits up, the tips of the silver ring claws brushing along every dip and divot and rise of darker skin on pale flesh. "You've done well to survive some of these. You're promising.

Childe, red in the cheeks, scoffs.

"Keeping the power of a god will be nothing in comparison to some of them."

Osial simply smiles, and his fingertips lower to undo the button of his pants. "We shall see about that, won't we?"

The button is all he touches, before something /else/ pulls down Childe's pants.

"What's th-"

"Ah-ah. You agreed to this. This'll make it easier, regardless. I doubt you want me to prepare you with these," he offered, lifting the silver tips to his fingers, still clearly sitting back to enjoy the show.

Something chilly and wet slides up Childe's thigh.

Osial busies Childe's mouth with his fingers instead, tilting forward finally to steal a kiss.

Unlike Zhongli, who has patented his human form to resembled just that--a human, Osial's fangs are sharp enough to make Childe's lower lip bleed with just a little nip.

His tongue tilted forward, and Childe wondered hastily if he'd be able to taste Zhongli still on his mouth--before he's quickly distracted by how long, how narrow, Osial's is. It presses deeper, cutting of his air as finally, the first tentacle slides under Childe's underwear.

"You won't need these, will you?" He asks, giving Childe a few, precious seconds to gasp for breath. At some point, another one of those hydro-tentacles has slipped up to the waistband of his pants.

"Huh-?"

"That's what I thought."

The fabric rips with one, rough gesture.

Childe's hips rise with the gesture, pulled upwards from the rough motion as his underwear was ripped away, making at least /one/ noise of protest because now he would have to go all the way back to Liyue commando.

Before he hits the ground, two more tentacles grab each thigh.

They keep him from touching the ground again, holding him partially in the air with his legs parted. Osial looks quite seriously like he's considering kissing him again, but instead, moves his fingers slowly. Childe can feel a third pressing slowly between them. Lubing him up.

"That's a little big don't you think-" Childe manages, swallowing as he felt it brush both thighs, despite how far the others had pulled his legs apart. He feels... open. Vulnerable. Some challenges could be a little... more intimidating than others. Osial just laughs.

Suddenly, the tentacle grew very narrow, and all at once, it pushed into him with little more warning than that.

Childe bites back a little cry, eyes going wide as it rocks him upwards with the force of it.

So thin, it didn't hurt, but it certainly surprised him.

Except, it didn't stay thin for long.

Just as Childe parted his lips to breathe, it pulled out, rocking into him again--except this time, it felt thicker. Noticeably so.

The clever bastard was stretching him at the same time as slicking him up, all without lifting a finger, except the one trailing up his belly.

The cold silver makes him shiver, but the twist of tentacle flicking through him, growing ever thicker by the second, keeps him from focusing on more than one sensation for a second.

Oh, fuck, did that thing just lift the smallest bulge in his stomach? Childe groans.

"Sweet thing," Osial hums, brushing the back of his claw against a tender nipple. "How cute. No wonder he's enamored with you. I can smell him all over you."

Childe was convinced Osial was keeping him from retorting by twisting the tentacle in him whenever he opened his mouth.

The minute it finds his prostate, it's almost over. He's hard, leaking precum against his belly, grasping at the cold rock flooring under his chest with enough force that Osial takes pity-- and tentacles lift his hands over his head, too.

He squirms, uneasy with the restraints.

The tentacle continues, though, distracting him enough that when he opened his eyes again. Osial was gone.

Then he feels his claws, one hand for each thigh, as he settles between his legs. He hadn't even removed his robe, not needing to.

He just had to push it out of the way.

He's far warmer than the tentacle, but Childe lets out a hiss of surprise when he realized that the tentacle had not pulled out when Osial had pushed in. Either he had... somehow merged with it, filling him in a mix of hard and soft, warm and cold, or he was taking both.

But where the tentacle had been quick enough to push him to his tipping point before, Osial slowed everything down, edging him away from release infuriatingly enough to make Childe whine.

"Hush now," the god purred, leaning over him. That long, wicked tongue touched his chest.

"Enjoy this while you can. Taking in a gnosis will be no pleasant task."

Childe, torn between asking what he meant and his own impatience, can't help but blurt.

"I can take it! Just /fuck/ me already-"

Morax always did like the fiery ones. Osial chuckles, but those claws dig down into Childe's hips to pull him hard onto his cock, complying.

Those fangs nip the skin around one nipple, and Childe lets out such an undignified yelp that he has to try and bury his face in one arm, lifted over his head. The tentacles don't allow that, making him face Osial on fully as the god presses their hips together with a grind.

Childe, shaking, is just about ready to demand that he move again--when the tentacle buried in him goes /wild/ twisting and curling as deep as it can manage without hurting him, flailing in several, short lashes against his prostate.

The Fatui's head tilts back, and he screams.

It's more than enough to make his eyes nearly roll back as they close, and his hips give a few, suspended thrusts. Osial has the courtesy to offer his hand, fingers wrapping around him for the friction as he paints his stomach white.

Childe sees the flash of light even through his eyelids, and before he can separate pain from pleasure, Osial presses a sliver of something thin and glowing deep into Childe's belly, before curling over it to rock slowly into him, riding out his own climax.

He'd waited until Childe's body would struggle to adapt to Godhood, buried in him, and a haze of overstimulation just to see how tight it would make him squeeze.

Unable to handle both, Childe's world went blindingly white, then dark.

(We're going to pause here for the night, and continue tomorrow, when Childe (+1 and it is NOT a baby) make it back to Zhongli! Tune in tomorrow, folks.)

When Childe comes to, he is presumably alone in the cavern, and he does not know how much time has passed. The first thing he notices is that he has been dressed.

The second is the strange swirl of raw power in the pit of his stomach.

It feels that if he so wishes it, he could bring the cavern crumbling to nothing. That he can sense the roll and push of the tides far above him, the very push and pull of water in the clouds above that.

Truth be told, as he sits up and turns slowly, he realizes that he is not alone. Towards the back half of the impossibly big structure, a lumbering giant sleeps, coils upon coils--a translucent snake of many, endless sources.

'My true form,' a voice whispers in his ear.

Childe jumps from the fact that few can rarely sneak up on him, but this is not any random voice. He turned sharply, to see Osial's human form there, lingering behind him.

Also see-through in a strange way. A spirit that was there for Childe's eyes only.

From what their agreement had been, Childe had a feeling he'd be seeing a lot more of him.

"How long have I been out?"

Osial-ghost hums a little, letting himself drift, as it seemed spirits could do. "A day? A day and a half? Your body has adjusted quite well, I'd say."

He'd worry about that comment later. The day and the half remark made him choke.

Before Osial could even question why, Childe was charging forward back to the staircase he had descended from.

Except he's faster than he remembers being now, and he makes it up the staircase in minutes when it had taken him an hour to go down it upon his arrival.

Zhongli is waiting, picturesque, right where Childe had left him, on the other side of the barrier.

When Childe stumbles through the 'Childe shaped hole' Zhongli mentioned would be there, he doesn't misses the faint surprise that works over the former Archon's face.

When he spoke, it's almost with disbelief. "You did it."

Childe pauses, a little confused. "How can you tell?"

Zhongli stepped forward, fingers tucking under a few messy strands of red hair. He pulls them forward, so Childe can see.

They're tipped in silver.

"I can feel it in you. The Gnosis of the God of the Vortex," he adds, softly, making eye contact. He could see it there, too. The fainter, barely visible shadow of a swirl in that deep blue. Darker than Osial's had been.

(Is Osial shorter than Zhongli? He's definitely prettier.)

Childe can feel the stir of energy in him, unbidden by his own force, and before he could open his mouth to reply, a much more /solid/ version of Osial formed in the narrow space between them.

"Clever of you, Morax," He murmured, tilting one sharp claw under his chin.

Childe can only assume they're the same height, but Osial tilts down, so Zhongli has to meet his gaze under half-lids. Zhongli goes tense.

"Osial." It's stoic.

"Such a cold greeting, for how warm I know your body is."

Zhongli stares hard over him, to Childe.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Childe grins, sheepish as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "You didn't say I couldn't make a deal with him, too, xiansheng."

Zhongli's jaw tightened in a way that suggested that he wasn't pleased about this, but Childe was startled that those claws made a dip into that pretty skin of Zhongli's cheek.

"You have a physical form?"

"I said I would call on your power--/our/ power-- when I like."

Zhongli shifted, smacking away Osial's hand with an audible impact, before he reached out, gloved hands carefully wrapping around one of the loose-hanging braids.

"You will relinquish control over him."

Osial grins, smitten. "What control? This is his choice."

Zhongli's sharp gaze lifted to Childe, who avoided it, shrugging.

"You said it yourself, xiansheng. I'll do anything for power."

Childe stepped forward, though, Osial taking a step back as the red head stepped past Zhongli.

"Do you think the boat that brought us here will slip me into Inazuma?"

Zhongli went very still. "...What business do you have in Inazuma?"

Childe watched as before him, at the lift of his hand, vortexs and whirlpools formed in the sea below. If he wanted, he could part the sea.

"I think I will go fight the Electro Archon first. Perhaps the Pyro afterwards."

Zhongli went very still after turning to watch him.

"We have a contract, Childe."

"And I'm very sorry that I can't bring myself to keep it," Childe murmured, casting a look over his shoulder that... was likely meant to be apologetic.

"But you love me, and I'll come back and earn your forgiveness afterwards. I promise."

'You, little fool, are making a mistake.' There was likely a reason why Osial, though he stood there with a pretty mouth of his own to use, whispered those words in Childe's mind, instead.

Childe just grinned.

"As much as I do love you, xiansheng, I have a Gnosis, now." Childe's eyes glowed softly, drawing on the power. "And I will get yours back. After I take down the Tsaritsa herself, I suppose." He at least tried to not sound as arrogant as his words came off.

"You can't stop me."

"So you are breaking our contract," Zhongli says, slowly, surely. "You are willing to face the Wrath of the Rock?"

'Apologize. Now.' For a god, Osial seemed rather nervous.

It makes Childe more obstinate. "With all due respect, Zhongli," he hums. "What can you do?"

Pain hits Childe distinctly, from the inside out, and the form that Osial has taken drops to the ground as well to his side. Childe makes it to his knees at least, not collapsing entirely. Like a twist of anguish, the gnosis within him begins to reject his body.

"Osial's punishment has not yet ended, but I am willing to be more lenient, given it is clear his physical form is still within the barrier," Zhongli announced slowly, stepping between them.

Childe is grasping at his chest, the pain forming a sweat at his brow. "Zhongli-!"

"It was rather obvious your adjustment to the gnosis is, however, because his spirit is travelling within you."

The new god lurches forward, on hands and knees in the pain.

"This means, if I strengthen the barrier, his body and spirit may separate, and weaken."

Zhongli stops before Childe, now, reaching down to wind his fingers within that red hair, forcing Childe to look up at him, dazed and agonized.

"And without the strength of his spirit within you, your body cannot handle that Gnosis, Childe."

Childe had never particularly begged for anything, but he had never felt as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out, either. "Zhongli-" he rasped, eyes wet. "Please."

"It would be a fitting punishment to rip the Gnosis from you, after you've tasted that power."

Childe's grip tightened at the front of his shirt, desperate.

"But that would be me breaking your contract with Osial, wouldn't it? His punishment is separate from yours."

"No, no-" Childe finally rasped, grasping at the wrist of the hand woven in his hair.

"I won't break the contract, xiansheng. I promise. I swear it."

In a shaking silence, the pain stops, and Osial, shaking, lifts his head from the ground.

"You stupid little brat, he's the God of Contracts, do you think he'd make one without a way of punishing you for breaking it?"

Childe wants to retort that this was only a way of punishing him because Osial was there /with/ him, but he's too busy struggling to catch his breath.

Slowly, tenderly, Zhongli lifts him up to slump against his body.

Childe wants to complain, but he knows it's his own fault.

It's not the first time Zhongli has 'punished' him, but this was decidedly less sexy.

"You will grow into Godhood, but by then, I hope you will come to understand why I cannot allow you to raze the world for the sake of battle," Zhongli whispers slowly, almost gently, against his cheek, while Childe struggles to find his voice.

"Are you angry with me?" Childe murmurs.

"No. You are fresh from your mortal life, and I do not expect you to know any better, yet," Zhongli answers, cradling Childe against his shoulder. Osial sits up, flashing a strained smirk.

"Are you angry with /me/?"

Zhongli exhales, slowly, but silently. "It is good to see you again, Osial. I will consider this your chance to redeem yourself, in the few hundreds of years that it will take Childe to come into his power.

Osial smirks, slowly. "You aren't afraid I'll take my gnosis back?"

"I think you will find that you are underestimating him," Zhongli replied, though Osial shifted slowly, settling behind Childe, trapping him between both of the ancient beings.

"You aren't angry that I had him for myself, then?"

"I do not feel threatened."

"Oh?" Ignoring the fact that Childe was still lifting himself slowly out of the sensation and shock of pain, Osial presses close, peering at Zhongli intently over his shoulder. "No matter how much he might have enjoyed it?"

"No, because I've had you the same way."

"Morax!"

Osial does, to his credit, try to sound offended. He sounds more heated than put off, though.

Finally finding his voice again, Childe rolled his head back against Osial.

"Fighting over me already?"

It draws a sharp stare from both Gnosis-less gods, close to scowls. Childe feels he's made, perhaps, yet another mistake.

Both, however, pointedly ignore him while they continue their disagreement.

Well, they ignore him about as much as their hands slowly undressing him counted as 'ignoring' him.

"Regardless, this just means that every time I have him under me again, it will be having you, included. Is your spirit not carried within him?" Zhongli asked, jerking Childe's pants down to his thighs, while Osial's dipped up under his shirt.

"Hey-" Childe starts, a little startled by the steady, firm grips and rough gestures. Zhongli bites at the curve of his neck to silence him.

Osial answers Zhongli, but his words fall warm on the other side of his throat. "Not when I can form my own body, like this."

Though Childe had felt the threat of the Wrath of the Rock for almost breaking his contract, Osial was just as spiteful for the pain that it had caused him in the process.

And Zhongli?

Zhongli wanted to remind him of his place.

Zhongli did not answer, one gloved hand wrapping around Childe's length, giving an almost demanding squeeze. Childe's attempt to defend himself are further quietened.

"If you're going to punish him, I want to take part," Osial demands, as if he isn't already doing so.

(Does Zhongli make him watch, or does Osial get to participate?)

Zhongli disregards him, but it is not a refusal. Caught up in Childe's insolence, his tendency for disorder, he has not had time to consider Osial's new role in his life--/their/ lives, now. It will be something he takes time to contemplate.

For now, Childe is already rolling his hips into Zhongli's grasp, steadfast, unmoving, making the new godling seek out his own pleasure his hips moving.

Osial, however, was more than distracted with the subtle curve to Childe's ass, again.

"I can make myself useful. You'll like it," Osial promised. "You know I'm useful." Once again, just to Zhongli--but Childe can feel it again. His own power invoking, in Osial's control.

The flow of a wet tentacle, stretching him out again.

"Don't let him enjoy it too much."

Childe makes a throaty noise to complain about Zhongli's strict command, but Osial obeys, politely now. The last thing he wants is to be on Zhongli's bad side just yet.

The tentacle avoids his sweet spot, offering him no pleasure for the preparation.

Childe squirms, moving himself into Zhongli's hand, now a mercy compared to the tentacle stretching him.

Zhongli hummed, his appraisal momentary.

"...For now, I'll admit you have your uses."

"Xiansheng," Childe voices, nothing short of a breathless demand, wanting. Zhongli's free hand wraps around his throat--not squeezing, but warning, as his lips press over Childe's once more, teeth sinking to his lower lip.

Osial's hands slip under his thighs, lifting him.

A little higher, now, Childe can feel that both of them are hard--Osial pressed to his bottom, with the tilt of tentacles up his thighs again to keep him there, while Zhongli was pressing between them from the front.

He'd taken his hand away, too, much to Childe's distress.

It's only when both of them start to disrobe, if just partially because they'd left Childe's clothing undone and his pants around his calves too, that it clicks for the Harbinger that he doesn't know who's doing what.

Osial, now privy to such thoughs, snickers into his shoulder.

"We're both going to take you, sweet fool," he says aloud, making Zhongli privy to that information.

To Zhongli, it seems a suitable enough punishment indeed.

"You aren't going to fit," Childe gasps quickly when being lifted breaks Zhongli's claim on his lips. "You both won't fit."

"Consider it a new challenge," Zhongli answers quietly, his gaze warm on him. "You enjoy those, don't you?"

Maybe a little passive aggressive.

Already, Childe could feel the press of both of them, naked and impatient, at different levels between his thighs.

He feels stretched, a thin drawn to its last limit, before all at once, the tentacle is gone, and Osial is there in its place, now.

"Wait," Zhongli answers sharply, dragging Childe's hips a little closer.

"Impatient," Osial teases over Childe's shoulder, blowing a two-toned strand of paler hair forward, Zhongli's direction. Childe gets no contribution, not with Zhongli's cock spreading him first.

Zhongli is only a couple of inches in, taking things slow, when Childe feels Osial press next to him and grip his ass, spreading him wide.

Childe made a choked, shocked noise, but not... one entirely of discomfort.

He'd still be stretched from the night before, after all.

And the body of a god could handle considerably higher amounts of strain.

Still, it doesn't stop him from clinging to Zhongli like a shadow, shoulder pressed into his shoulder. Unmoving, Zhongli at least allows him to adjust to the girth of both of them together.

For a few seconds.

Osial is impatient.

The former God of the Vortex rolls forward in a way that makes both Zhongli and Childe's breath catch, thrusting in deeper. Zhongli is forced to move, lest the slide push him out on Osial's grind back.

For Childe, that means they move in tandem, one pulling back at a time.

He digs his fingers, fortunately still gloved as well, into Zhongli's shoulders as his head tilts upwards, letting out a groan that echoes off of the walls of the open cave leading to Osial's seal.

Osial reaches up, taking his face to tilt his head to the side, facing him.

His tongue is just as wicked, just as long, as it presses deep past those lips once more. He still holds Childe up--while Zhongli's hands guide his hips down against them both.

There was no need to silence Childe with the kiss--but Osial particularly liked swallowing every little mumble and whimper that he offered.

For Zhongli, it exposes enough neck for him to nip marks into.

Dragon possessive tendencies were hard to shake.

They rock into him until he's almost bouncing between them--and still, Childe dares to whisper a throaty, demanding, "/More-/" the minute Osial allows him to breathe.

Despite his words, he always did tend to handle his desperation poorly, whether it was normal lust or bloodlust.

Ravenous and greedy, he always demanded as much as he could take. Sometimes more.

No, always more.

Crushed between them, Zhongli's teeth sink against his shoulder, breaking the skin and marking him, now that he knows he'll heal faster than any human, Osial sinks his fangs against his lower lip, drawing blood there, too, but they move faster.

They give him exactly what he asks for.

Instead of changing their pace, sliding one out and then the other in in that steady rhythm, they hold still, no longer moving.

Instead, they move Childe on them, dragging him up with Osial's help at his arms, and Zhongli moving under his thighs, dropping him hard down on them.

Osial swallows his cries, and his curses.

Childe can't grasp at Zhongli anymore, not with his arms restrained, to his sides with Osial's grip around him. His fingers instead dig at Zhongli's arms where they rest at his hips, the only thing he can reach.

Finally, finally, Childe chokes out a noise of defeat, unable to hold up against the dual assault. He cums hard, squeezing them both together, and with a final, muted friction thanks to Zhongli's insistent, slow movements, Osial spends himself in Childe again.

Stubborn until he can feel the warmth of both of them shaking in front of them, Zhongli allows himself to fill Childe as well, well beyond what he'd ever left him stuffed with before.

Osial always did make a mess.

Childe goes lax between them, breathing hard and compliant, and it's Zhongli that takes the care to rise a curve of stone behind him for Childe to rest in his lap while he sat back. Osial moves instead, after pulling out, to curl to Zhongli's side.

Zhongli is still surprised that he can form a physical body after that amount of exertion, but Osial almost looked sweet, worn in a way that makes him press against his shoulder.

"You have a fun toy in this one, Morax, but don't think I won't help him turn this on /you/, next time." Osial's fangs show, when he yawns.

"I haven't forgiven you for my prison, nor have I forgotten how pretty you look when you're under me."

Zhongli only hums quietly in return, closing his eyes.

"That is something I will address later. Behave, for now. Rest, and I will show you today's Liyue when Childe can move again. You know I will not allow you to cause problems."

Osial rumbles a sweet noise, and allows himself to relax.

"I'm sure, I'm sure."

Though made of rock, the strange chair is enough for all of them to doze on.

/// end!