Chapter Text
Lothric moaned softly at the way his cock was being sucked upon. He lacked much of a comparison point, but Gwyndolin, despite their protests, was rather a quick learner on how to turn both of their consorts on.
This ‘consummation ritual’ had been Miquella’s idea. The golden nymph was quite nonchalant about it. They had been a united triumvirate for some time (even longer in an unofficial capacity). They all were quite familiar with the quirks and bodies of each other.
“Why not indulge in the pleasures of the flesh?” Miquella had asked in the same intonation he’d use to ask about the weather. Lothric had considered declining. After all, despite the work of several gods and Miquella himself, he was still rather… fragile. He’d also use a great deal of energy, bucking away inside his consorts; he had to be mindful of how much he spent.
He had assumed Gwyndolin would disagree. Of the three, they were the most uncomfortable with their body. They made all manner of excuses without outright saying it. ‘Oh, what if one of my serpents bit one of thee?’, ‘what if one of thee wert to fall upon one of my serpents and they should get injured?’, ‘I wouldst disappoint, and I wouldst feel great shame for it.’, things of that nature.
Meanwhile, Lothric was milk white with elongated limbs and fingers with smatterings of scales and a spiny back with the hints of horns growing from the back of his head that were beginning to become … notable.
Of the three, only Miquella could pass for ‘normal’. Yet the kind, foreign godkin was ever supportive of their appearances. He even helped Lothric with keeping the horns healthy, since getting behind his head to do it himself could end with a dislocation.
Also of the three, he was a complete nymphomaniac, happily holding Gwyndolin’s hips as he thrust away, a look of perverse glee on his face. For someone who claimed to have been a virgin before tonight, he seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly.
Lothric allowed himself to let Miquella have his victory. Miquella’s love had been so… ordered before he arrived in Irithyll. That’s what he gleaned from some of the servants and knights he brought with him, anyway. Let him embrace a bit of fluidity.
Gwyndolin’s spittle dripped onto his cock and thighs again as a thrust from Miquella caused them to take more of his cock than they could handle. Or perhaps it had hit something it shouldn’t.
“That’s a good god...” Lothric all but purred as he ran his spindly fingers through Gwyndolin’s hair. Gwyndolin’s moans began to sound so… happy at the praise. A part of Lothric wondered how that felt. To hear and accept praise. The concept was soured somewhat for him by his father and all his sycophants, but clearly Gwyndolin enjoyed hearing it.
“Such a good… good little god, with your ass wrapped around my cock like this…”
Due to Gwyndolin’s nature, these were really the two avenues available for them to indulge in: the ass and the mouth. Their cock was too small, their cunt too shallow for much more than hand-based attention.
Still, it was enough for the triumvirate. Gwyndolin had made it readily apparent from the beginning of this sinful union that they were content being at the bottom of the pile. Entirely focused on being a complete submissive partner. Lothric supposed it made sense — those in power want a release from that.
Miquella had always been on the bottom, treated like a child due to his curse; of course he wanted to be in charge in this situation. Lothric supposed he could sympathize with both positions to an extent.
As for himself, he preferred to be involved but not in anything too rigorous. He did it because he loved and trusted his consorts. That was enough for him to agree to slip off the cleric robes that Gwyndolin had woven for him and sit with the god around his cock.
He lifted a strand of hair and let it slip from his fingers as he lifted his hand away. It was already slick with sweat. Lothric wondered if he should move more himself…
“Oh, Lin… Erdtree, Lin, you’re… fuck you’re great… fucking…”
Lothric supposed his chance to do so was coming up. As enjoyable as the suffocation of the darkmoon god of the hidden city of Irithyll around his hard shaft was, he wanted to sample the cut divine flesh that Miquella seemed to be enjoying so greedily.
Lothric maneuvered his cock out of Gwyndolin’s mouth. As they tried to figure out what had happened, spit and drool staining their lower lips and chin, Lothric gently took their head (not where the spittle was, that texture was disgusting on his fingers) and brought their eyes to his own. The beautiful purple shook for a bit and the pupil shifted from large to small to large again before the spark of recognition filled them.
“Are you excited, Gwyndolin?” Lothric asked, face flat as always but he put effort into putting a light tone into his words, “Our beloved Miquella is going to cum in you; deposit a great load that will warm you from the inside out. Does that not sound wondrous, little Lin?”
Gwyndolin’s mouth had a few false starts, but Lothric could tell they heard him loud and clear. Their face looked so… enraptured by love and pleasure. Lothric wondered if his could twist in such a way…
Judging from the way the Empyrean’s thrusts lost all rhythm and had lost all pretenses of not being in a mad rush to cum, the display also drove Miquella closer to the edge. Lothric chuckled at the realization this would be Miquella’s first time cuming inside someone. He wanted to get to do that so much that he didn’t think to ask him if he wanted the first round with Lin until he was already lined up to the lubed ass of the god. Lothric had no desire to jump in first, and therefore let him go.
“Lin… Oooh, Lin… Fuck…L-Loth… Lothric…”
Lothric chuckled at his buckling knees. It seemed he had all the power in this situation. They both needed a push; he could see it. As Miquella continued to buck and Gwyndolin continued to constrict their serpents tighter and tighter into Miquella’s hips, Lothric wondered what he could say.
“Are you both close?” He settled on.
“Y…Yes… Yes Lothric, I’m so… Grace I need a release! Fuck…!”
Gwyndolin, for their part nodded with such a force Lothric released their head. It was a rather adorable sight, made all the better by the whimpering that shook from their throat.
“Then come. Come together, in a glorious union.”
A bit flat in delivery, despite his attempts to be more… engaged, but it was enough. Gwyndolin went first, eyes rolling backwards and their cock pulsing in an attempt to ejaculate. It must have gotten their ass to tighten, however, because Miquella’s eyes rolled backwards nigh instantly and he released an undignified groan of release through grit teeth. He must have deposited quite a bit, as Gwyndolin’s body began to twitch in time with Miquella’s ‘ooh yes’s that he muttered in the aftermath.
Lothric chuckled at how utterly content and thoughtless both appeared to be. Miquella slid out, slow and careful, and Gwyndolin (and their serpents) slowly lowered themself onto the bed, untangling themself from Miquella. Once he was fully out, Miquella flopped backwards onto the bed, long locks of soft gold hair spreading out beneath him.
The sight was rather special to see. Even with the eternal flatness of his expressions and words, Lothric felt his heart warm somewhat when one of the serpents slithered, slow and lethargically, over to Miquella to check on him. The Empyrean gave a breathless chuckle and began petting the snake, which slithered up his hip and settled on his stomach.
Were Lothric a good saint, that would have been enough. However, he was not a saint any longer and he had learned to indulge himself now and again. With the way his cock twitched to remind him that he had plans for the night, he was not going to wait too long before acting on his body’s needs.
It turned out, he would not need to. Gwyndolin soon rose on shaking arms, gaze leveled at the former prince. Lothric noted that again, his purple eyes were needing time to adjust. The serpentine pupils eventually focused on Lothric’s face, giving a shy smile, before looking down at his erect cock.
“A-ah. Th… thou must forgiveth mine… tarrying on caring for thee, beloved Lothric.”
Lothric waved one of his hands back and forth. “You were coming down from whatever heights you brought Miquella to. Judging from how he is right now, I find myself interested in seeing if you could bring me there as well.”
Gwyndolin took a glance back at the Empyrean who seemed to still be seeing stars. The two silvered ex-servants of Fire shared a chuckle. When Gwyndolin began moving towards him, Lothric found his attention brought to Gwyndolin’s thighs, which appeared to be slick with semen and sweat.
Lothric wondered if that would be an unpleasant sensation to feel against his own skin. It was a delightful sight, either way.
“I-if… If thou wouldst haveth I, ‘twould be mine pleasure.”
Lothric beckoned them forward. Even if he couldn’t show it in his expression, he was very appreciative of the open ended nature of that question. It was leaving Lothric an out. Miquella stirred for a moment as the serpent slithered away from him, but otherwise remained in whatever bliss Gwyndolin had brought him to.
“Are you able to ride me, Darkmoon?” Lothric asked, noting the shaky way Gwyndolin was moving on their knees. Lothric knew what Gwyndolin would answer — the same answer they gave to any loved one that asked for anything — but the more they moved the more sure they seemed.
Gwyndolin, with all the grace and gentleness of an angel, slowly lowered Lothric down onto his back. If anyone was more confident in his ability to use his hips, he could have sat up and been closer to the snake-legged god.
“Hush thee, beloved. Alloweth I to tend to thee.”
Lothric nodded, secretly hoping his growing horns or back spines weren’t currently poking holes in the towel, blankets, sheets, or mattress of the triumvirate’s bed. His attention was fully on the god above him, and it seemed the opposite was true as well. Gwyndolin gave a shy smile filled to the brim with love as they managed to maneuver their serpentine legs and more ordinary hips and thighs to straddle both sides of the former prince.
It was oddly more pleasant than Lothric would have expected. The scales of their serpents felt comforting and familiar as they slithered and moved to more fully embrace him, some even sliding over his own. That sensation was difficult for him to describe, though it was one he wanted to feel more often.
Due to the nature of their legs, it took a moment or two longer for Gwyndolin to find the angle to slide Lothric’s cock into their ass. Lothric was about to ask Miquella for assistance when Gwyndolin managed it, sliding down wholly onto his cock with only some resistance.
“Ooooh… That is pleasurable…” Lothric murmured under his breath, lifting a hand to rest against Gwyndolin’s hip as they began to feel out what the easiest manner to bounce his ass would be. It was awkward at first, and the pair laughed bashfully despite themselves. Lothric simply took in the beauty of the last god of Anor Londo, his very consort, nervously attempting to please him.
Their small breasts (leftover from the long millennia of wearing the Reversal Ring) bounced in a way that Lothric struggled to describe beyond ‘cute’. His eyes remained locked on Gwyndolin’s body, sweaty and glistening in the candle light as they began to move with more confidence.
So intently was their stare at the god’s performance that he almost missed Miquella finally moving again. He didn’t look at him until he shuffled over and flopped onto his side, radiant and flawless face next to his.
“Oooh, but this is a nicer view…”
Gwyndolin shuddered at the added attention, the walls of his ass tightening ever so slightly. Lothric didn’t know if it would be worth it to force a smile. His was rather ugly, regardless of what his consorts said. In lieu of that, he ran his thumb across the dip of Gwyndolin’s hip.
“It is, is it not?” Lothric felt compelled to continue looking at the god who leaned back. A soft moan of pleasure released from his mouth, not expecting the shift in posture to do that much to change the experience. A part of him was nervous at moaning at all. Yet… he found no reason to hide his moans. This was no longer the Grand Archive. He could do as he pleased.
Miquella’s light touch on his shoulder brought him back from those wretched memories. Whether the Empyrean had known where his mind had wandered, or if was simply wanting his attention, Lothric could not truly say.
“It’s a wonderful gift, that only we get to see our beloved Darkmoon like this.” Miquella spoke with a light air that Lothric found himself envious of; full of emotion and tone. Gwyndolin’s mouth began to move, as if they wanted more to be said but the pleasure had rendered their tongue rather useless.
“Most indeed, Miquella. The sight of the last god, debasing themself so…” Lothric shot a glance over to the foreign demigod, who seemed quite pleased with himself, “it’s a sight fit for two heretics such as we, is it not?”
“They must love us very much to let us see this…” Miquella giggled as he drew himself closer to him.
Lothric chuckled, eyes drawn to the soft lips of the Empyrean. As with so much else with him, they had a purity and divinity he was entranced by. “If they do, it may just be equal to the love we feel for each other.”
Gwyndolin began whispering, his eyes wild and small. Miquella drew his head to look at him — only him — and gave a devious chuckle. Lothric shot a glance at the enraptured and sinful expression on Gwyndolin’s face and found his own pleasure came more easily. The slick sounds of his cock mixing the seed Miquella had left behind were soon drowned out by the erotic moans of a Gwyndolin free to make as much sound as he wanted.
“Perhaps our pet god would like a demonstration of our own love, beloved Lothric…”
Miquella’s voice dropped low as his hot breath grew closer to Lothric’s lips. Lothric had no doubt Gwyndolin heard it regardless. It was confirmed when their moans turned to whimpers and the sheets by Lothric’s legs were clutched tighter. The tight squeeze on his mostly numb feet might have been his imagination… or they were the god’s serpent legs that expressed just how enraptured they were.
“Then allow me to lead, Empyrean…”
Lothric enjoyed the split second of confusion before Lothric suddenly grabbed the back of his head, locking his spindly fingers into a handful of his perfectly soft hair and pushing him forward onto his lips. Miquella’s light yelp of surprise was quickly replaced with moans of pleasure as he melted into the lip lock. Lothric shuddered with the pleasure of having the Empyrean’s lips against his own as Gwyndolin’s ass wrapped tighter around his cock.
Gwyndolin’s rhythm was thrown off by the visual; the pretense of it was thrown away for a wild session of bucking. Lothric experimented with bucking his own hips, to show that the sensation was wildly enjoyable (he’d almost say ‘addicting’), but stopped when his body reminded him why he often stuck to a wheelchair with a sharp pain.
“Yes…. Yes, my consorts…” Gwyndolin’s mumblings had grown more audible as Lothric attempted to divide his attention between the two. Miquella pressed his body against his own, his manhood already growing hard and eager again. More than that, Lothric loved hearing the absolute pleasure Miquella was feeling as he opened his mouth to Lothric’s tongue.
They continued in this fashion for a while, Lothric fully engrossed in both his consorts and them in him, as Gwyndolin’s moans grew louder and more erratic. At some point he had dropped Miquella’s hair, and some time after that he pulled away. Lothric knew better than to track time when engaged in an activity like this.
A part of him didn’t want to. He was embraced, he was loved, and neither expected anything but the same in return. This was not the past. He was actually enjoying himself. He licked his lips as he gazed back up to Gwyndolin, whose skin was a wonderful shade of pink and whose face seemed so enraptured with the situation they didn’t notice Miquella had pulled away from his lips.
“Oh… but I’m sure you want to finish again, greedy little god…” Miquella wrapped one of his arms around Gwyndolin’s shoulders. Lothric placed his other hand on Gwyndolin’s hips and applied a slight pressure to them. Gwyndolin nodded with a gusto Lothric couldn’t quite recall ever seeing.
“They have been so well behaved, have they not?” Lothric spoke, “and the night is yet young. Surely we can give them an early lead…”
Gwyndolin really was too cute, the way they moaned and whimpered. Miquella must have thought the same, as he gingerly brought the hand that he had brought to the opposite side of the god to their breast and gently began to play with it.
The sudden shift of Gwyndolin’s body at the pleasure they were feeling nearly knocked the wind out of Lothric. He grit his teeth as the god seemed at a complete loss of self control. If that was true, it was something to be celebrated. That they felt so comfortable to discard all their stringent rules and be their submissive toy…
Lothric felt the tell-tale pressure build in his shaft. He would be finishing soon. He shot a glance to Miquella, who spared a moment from his study of Gwyndolin’s face to lock eyes with him and nod. Miquella’s other hand crept towards Gwyndolin’s cock — pulsing and obviously needy for whatever attention could be given to it. Lothric adjusted his grip on Gwyndolin’s hips to allow his talons to dig in lightly into the god’s flesh.
Gwyndolin was too enraptured with what had to be mere pinpricks of pain mixed in the most pleasure they had ever felt to realize Miquella’s plan before it was too late. Lothric was only barely aware of it as his climax rushed towards him. The slick sensation of Gwyndolin’s ass tightening around his cock was growing too much to bear.
All it took was a single touch from Miquella’s smooth hands on his cock for Gwyndolin to cum. It seemed to be more explosive than the one Miquella had managed to give them, yet Lothric imagined that was because he was receiving much more stimulation this time. Miquella tugged harshly at the god’s nipple, as he smiled at the fully apparent and unhidden joy of the god’s orgasm face.
It was enough to drive an ordinary man mad. It was enough to drive even the most pious clerics to insanity. It was just enough for Lothric to throw his hip pain to the side and thrust wildly into Gwyndolin. He had to move quickly, and so he did. With only half a minute difference, Lothric felt his cock drain into Gwyndolin as well, groaning in relief as the pressure released from him.. The thick ropes of semen shot deep and hot, judging from the way the god’s body convulsed with each pulse of his cock.
Miquella giggled softly at the exhausted expression on Lothric’s face as he held up Gwyndolin. He was almost grateful for that; the three of them could stare at each other after the orgasm.
“Do you see it, my lovely little Lin? Your hard work brought such joy to our dour little prince…”
Lothric would ordinarily have a comment about that. As it stood, he was fine with catching his breath and basking in the afterglow of the experience.
“You did wonderfully…” Lothric commented, hoping his flat effect wasn’t as in full force as he felt it was, “You were such a good little god to take it all as you did.”
Gwyndolin nodded vaguely, and Lothric was left wondering what exactly they had heard — if anything at all.
“Are you okay, beloved Lothric?”
Lothric waved a hand back and forth. For the moment, the pain had not begun to leak from his hip bones. He could potentially have gotten away with his desperate thrusts… but more than likely he’d feel it when he went to move. For now, the heretical apostate was telling the truth.
“I am fine. I will join you in tending to our god momentarily.”
Miquella’s smile deepened as he leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead before returning to Gwyndolin. Lothric allowed the sensation of the god sliding off his cock to wash over him as he came down. It wasn’t quite that explosive for him, but it was perhaps the best he had ever had.
So he greedily took his time coming back down. Miquella seemed to be whispering something to Gwyndolin regardless. So for a few moments longer, he allowed himself to imprint the experience onto his Soul.
He was loved, and loved in return. They did not shy from him, nor he from them. That was enough for him to find contentment.