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Chapter Text

Ragged breathing reverberated through the long hallways of Anor Londo to match the uneven shuffling of footsteps that followed. The cold night air shined against the deep crimson that leaked from Sulyvahn’s holy flesh as he continued to sprint no matter how much his legs protested.

One of the unkindled ones had attacked irythll, tearing it apart piece by piece and murdering every inhabitant in cold blood just for their own gain. They were destroying everything that Sulyvahn had ever worked for, all of the lives he destroyed just for Aldrich and the deep. The unkindled one had destroyed that. So Sulyvahn destroyed them. Their fight lasted forever, their abilities were perfectly matched for one another. The swordsmanship of the unkindled matches with the sorcery of the pontiff. Sulyvahn ripped the soul from the trespasser's body, watching as the life drained from the knight’s face.

The pontiff was a wreak. His mask shattered and cracked along his face, revealing one of his eyes and the side of his nose. Pieces of his long silver hair flicked out behind the mask and floated behind him as he ran. His robes were left in a tattered and bloody mess, gold adornments splattered with red decorated his entire body. He had multiple slashes along his legs and arms but one in particular on his thigh was deep and long, to the point where Sulyvahn had to clutch it in his hands as he ran. A chesty cough rattled through Sulyvahn’s bones, making him double over onto the ground into a pool of his own blood. A loud cry left his throat as he wound hit the cold floor of the holy building. His limbs shook heavily from the agony and his chest heaved as he tried desperately to regain his breath.

Sulyvahn felt pathetic, his blood oozing onto the ground around him to mix with the tears that Spiller down his cheeks. He was frozen, his muscles refused to carry his tired body anymore. Maybe it wasn’t that his muscle refused to move him but instead they didn’t have the energy or blood to do so. He figured his death would be more honourable by the hand of his Lord or from dying in battle but this was embarrassing and he wished for the cold grasp of death.

The metallic tang of blood was the first thing to hit the Pontiff's senses when he woke from his unknown sleep. The next was warmth coming from the right side of his body, it was irregular and felt like the heat from a fire place. His body ached but not in a dangerous way like before, now it was tolerable yet annoying. The weight of his mask on his face was removed and he felt the gentle touch of a hand graze his forehead, moving to tuck some hair behind his ear. It was so comforting and he didn’t even need to open his eyes to know who was touching him in this moment. Underneath his body he felt the soft caress of fabric but he head was proper up against something solid and warm, a more gentle warmth than the fire. This warmth was human rather than environmental.

Sulyvahn’s eyes slowly opened, his vision still fuzzy and blurry from before but it had improved a considerable amount from before. His eyes scanned the room around him. The room was a deep shade of crimson, to his right was indeed a fireplace that crackled away to itself. He was laid on a couch far too fancy to belong to the cathedral of the deep, a deep violent in colour. It was definitely one of the many things ripped from Gwyndolin’s grasp when Sulyvahn and Aldrich took over. Aldrich.

Sulyvahn looked up to be met with the blank and emotionless eyes of the deceased god, Gwyndolin. He jolted in fear before feeling a hand come to rest on his cheek, he then remembered that Gwyndolin was no more and that this was merely a shell. Gwyndolin’s lips turned up into a soft smile under Aldrich’s control, his hand gently caressing Sulyvahn’s face with his thumb.
“relax Sulyvahn, it is just thee and I in here. Thou’rt safe now” Aldrich’s deep voice came from Gwyndolin’s mouth. It’s something that the Pontiff still isn’t used to but he’s happy that his Lord now has a physical form he can hold and be close to. After connecting the dots Sulyvahn realised that Hai head was places in Aldrich’s lap.

The sorcerer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, his body relaxing as he looked up at Gwyndolin- no... Aldrich. The fabric of the couch against his body made him realise he was named before his Lord but it didn’t make him uncomfortable, not in the slightest. His body was covered in bandages and there were wounds on him that Aldrich wouldn’t have been able to get to if he didn’t remove Sulyvahn’s clothes.

“The stench of thy blood is so intoxicating, my dear pontiff” Aldrich’s voice rumbled in the back of his throat, the hand moving from Sulyvahn’s face and down his jaw to his neck.
“I know thou hast been protecting mine honour and our home. It almost killed thee just now” Aldrich moved his hand down the front of Sulyvahn’s chest. His chest moved up into his touch despite the slight discomfort.

The pontiff fixated his eyes on Aldrich’s hand, needing him to go further down his body and touch more of his flesh.

Chapter Text

Being an outrider knight was an honour amongst the pontiff knights. Being able to go to distant lands in order to protect and fight for your homeland and for your god. A ceremony was put in place every couple of months for the outrider knights upon leaving for their adventures in the irithyll church, not to be confused with the church of Yorshka. Civilians haven’t touched that building in years since pontiff and the deep had taken over, it was for the best.

The great sword of judgement, held tightly within the pontiff hand shined bright moonlight magic upon the armour of each outrider knight as they knelt before him to be blessed. The blade glowed a distinctive purple hue, landing on the cold blue armour of his knights and dancing within the metal. It was a ritual of sorts. The pontiff held the ceremonial sword in his hand, tapping the tip of the blade on either shoulder before dragging the blade down the front of the knight's face until he stopped at their abdomen. A cross shape being displayed upon them through the pontiff’s movements, all the while the devourer spoke prayers and blessings to the Knight. Aldrich, devourer of gods was seated comfortably in a chair in front of the knights as he spoke. Just in front of him Sulyvahn would stand and perform his ritual.

Aldrich towered over all inhabitants inside the church, his eyes caressing every single body inside the holy walls as he watched. The words slipped from his mouth so easily, he didn’t even pay attention to what he was saying anymore. His eyes landed on Sulyvahn a while ago and they haven’t moved off him since. He was in a trance. The way Sulyvahn’s muscles moved under his skin as he positioned his great sword mere centimetres away from the knight’s armour made Aldrich so hungry. Starving even. The pontiff’s long fingers seemed so delicate against the handle of the ceremonial blade, holding it with a strong grip. The way his robe showed off the subtle curves of his body and how they shifted as he moved made the devourer’s mouth water. Aldrich wanted the robes off. Now.

He wanted his dear pontiff in his lap, wriggling and groaning in ecstasy as Aldrich delivered him a pleasure only a god could give. The way Sulyvahn’s mouth would lay open, his eyes half lidded and full of love as he was fucked. The devourer wanted his tongue all over the sweet flesh of the holy man. He wanted to lick, bite and taste him so badly. He wanted to grab that sword right out of the pontiff’s hands and fuck him with it, watching as he spilled over the edge.

This have Aldrich an idea. A disgusting idea. A sexy idea. A disgustingly sexy idea.

The final outrider knight knelt in front of the pontiff, his hands folding in front of his chest in a prayer. His fingers trembled slightly, no one was surprised to see this from a knight. This really was a huge deal, to kneel In front of your god and your pontiff. Not to mention the dead god of the dark sun watching you from Aldrich’s form. Gwyndolin’s corpse hung off of the devourer’s body like the head of a slain beast, like a trophy of his victory. Sulyvahn loomed over the trembling knight, sword in hand and prepared to craft the last blessing. The blade, ripe with blooming moonlight power grazed the armour of the outrider knight just like it has done many times before this evening.

Aldrich had to swallow thickly, he had began to drool imaging Sulyvahn in all types of lewd positions. His personal favourite was holding him up to become eye level with the succulent flesh between his legs, throbbing with arousal and slick with the sweet wetness of the pontiff. He used tendrils of his body to support Sulyvahn’s weight, using a couple to wrap around his thighs just to keep his legs spread, watching as the muscles contracted under the skin in pleasure. Aldrich would hold his pontiff like this and watch him touch himself with his long fingers. Sulyvahn would reach between his legs and with a strong grip he would begin to finger his tight pussy, the walls of his vagina clamping around them as he fucked himself. He was so rough with himself, curling them up to hit his g-spot and moving at a fast pace. The free hand of the trembling man would be used to rub circles over his clit, so hard and swollen from the foreplay that had taken place beforehand. Sulyvahn wouldn’t be wearing his mask, his icy silver hair falling over his face and shoulders like curtains that would hide his gorgeous face.

Aldrich swallowed yet again and snapped out of his daze, looking down at the outrider knight with dark eyes. The knight didn’t dare look up at the devourer, instead keeping his sight down at his shaky hands that were still clasped together so tightly. He licked his lips... Well, Gwyndolin’s lips and began to recite the same blessing as he had done again and again.

“wend forth into the world in peace, be of valorous courage, hold fast that which is valorous. render to no one evil for evil, strengthen the fainthearted, support the weak, help the afflicted, honour irithyll. love and serveth the Lord, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit, and the blessing of I the almighty devourer, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be among thee and remain with thee at each moment on the adventures” Aldrich looked down at the outrider knight, his gaze snapping away for a moment to watch Sulyvahn’s movements. The pontiff crafted the final cross of the evening, his sword being retracted against his body before bowing to the quivering cluster of armour before him.