*slams door open, bringing the kitchen utensils and the margaritas*
MY SISTER IN HOBO TRASH JESUS, HE WHO DID NOTHING WRONG IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE.
I NEED YOU TO COOK UP SOMETHING WITH PROMPT N*5(just a drop before going to sleep lolol) FOR THE NSFW PROMPT LIST.
AND I NEED THE MAIN INGREDIENT TO BE THE HOBO JESUS, FIRST OF HIS NAME, HE WHO CAN NEVER BE PARTED FROM HIS HAT, MR. WALK-WALK FASHION BABY HIMSELF.
5.leaning back with their legs spread apart as they ask, with a smirk, "are you just going to stare, sweetheart?"
I HUMBLY REQUEST THIS.
VERY HUMBLY.
VERY DEMURELY.
@nemo-of-house-morning-star MY SISTER IN GUCCI BAG TRASH JESUS HELL-ER! 😂💀 *takes whole ass margarita and downs it* HOW FUCKING DEMURE OF YOU TO BREAK DOWN THY DOORS AND ASK FOR FILTH...I have plenty to go around 👀 take a hit 🚬
FOR EVERYONE ELSE...
Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Ardyn to get excited at the prospect of bedding you.
It began innocently enough: a spark of flirtation, quick banter, a curse or two. Then Ardyn's mouth was on yours, his tongue learning your taste. He nipped your lips now and then, fingers tightening around your waist with a hunger that edged on tenderness—like a serpent clutching its warm prize. He was as desperate to consume you as he had been desperate to dominate the conversation that led here, and you melted under that insistence.
All you could do was hang onto his coat, letting his breath give yours meaning with every tug and press of your mouths. The kiss was relentless until, unexpectedly, he gave a low, surprised whimper and broke away just enough to let the ghost of his breath brush your face, lingering on your swollen bottom lip. You can smell the red sylleblossom spice on his skin—warm embers tempered by a sweetness—and for a moment, you're convinced of being held by a dragon as his amber eyes bore into yours, asking thousands of questions you had no answers for. The pressure had stolen your air; black dots danced at the edges of your vision, and your legs trembled.
"Would you—" he breathed, voice low and shaking, "may I?"
Gods, his eyes. They made your knees go weak. You nodded without thinking, surrendering to the heat of the moment. Your mouth found his again, and you let the invitation stand. Your hands tangled in his red hair as he tried—and failed—to steer you both to the bedroom, settling for the living quarters instead. The couch became its own private world.
Clothes shed, touches grew more intimate, and as euphoria swept through Ardyn, something else surfaced too: old scabbed memories that shouldn't have anything to do with this. He hadn't intended for this, to have you in this fashion—wouldn't, by his own rules, but instinct pressed on. He tasted guilt like bile: the thought of what exposure might mean, the scourge that had shaped him whispering its cautions. The idea of endangering you with his bodily fluids made him hiss between kissing your neck, both disgusted and strangely aroused when your moan pulled him deeper.
For a moment, he thought he heard Aera.
Gods, Aera…
Losing her had taught Ardyn never to drift into bliss where flesh was concerned. Violence was detached, useful. But sex—sex was dangerous, another beast he kept locked away. His focus had to remain on the greater design: Niflheim, Lucis, Eos itself. Distractions had their place, of course—little games to make eternity’s chains bearable, cruel jokes at his own expense. But even now, with your body under his, he laughed at himself bitterly: because you were no game.
He had told himself, again and again, that you were a distraction—just another one. A mantra to starve impulses he refused to feed. But gods be damned, he couldn’t deny it: the way you made him feel, even with only fragments of his truth laid bare. He loathed you for it, and he desired you all the more. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve you—and there were countless ways it could end in tragedy. Yet for once, he no longer cared.
Anything left of his restraint eroded. He leaned back on the couch, breath quick, chest rising and falling as desire tightened inside him, his cock twitched in anticipation. You stood above him, discarding the last of your clothes, holding the power of choice between you.
When you looked at him, he saw his own hunger reflected in your eyes, and something like trust glimmered there. Ardyn grinned, half-smirk, half-plea, drunk at the sight of seeing you naked from head to toe.
"Are you just going to stare, sweetheart?"
He chuckled when you smiled and shook your head, glancing away before daring to look at him again, drinking in his form. His body quivered, as though the daemons he kept caged inside were straining to tear free and lunge for you.
You’d be lying if you claimed you weren’t afraid—and you knew he was too, beneath the bravado and hunger. Yet when he returned your earlier nod and shifted, opening himself wider, it was not a threat but surrender. He was offering you the choice he never had: to step into the fray on your own terms, to take the reins of your own fate. At your mercy, he would follow you to the very end.
Ardyn's eyes devoured you as you lowered and swung a leg over, straddling him fully. The motion wrung a sound from his chest, and you felt the tremor in his clenched hands as he fought the urge to seize your hips and pull you down. Still, he waited—letting you dictate the pace.
The heat of his cock pressed hard against your inner thigh, the sheer ache of it undeniable. Anticipation burned between you until you leaned forward, your forehead brushing his. His whimper vibrated against your lips as you kissed him—and then, with deliberate slowness, you sank onto him.
The stretch stole your breath. Ardyn's groan broke into something raw, guttural, your name torn from his mouth as though it was the only word left to him. His restraint shattered, hands gripping you as though the gods themselves might drag you away, but still you moved, claiming him inch by inch, until there was nothing left between you but fire.
You didn't stop when his moans turned animalistic or when the scourge began to darken the whites of his eyes as his thumbs pressed hard into your skin. Every kiss he gave, every drag of skin on skin, pulled you both away from the fears that plagued the mind. By the time you gave in to Ardyn entirely, riding him with abandon, his body rising to meet yours, both of you gasping and clawing for more, there was no room left for hesitation.
Here, beneath the dragon’s wings, the world ceased to exist. Heat and shadow wove their cocoon, and nothing remained but the rhythm of your bodies, his voice breaking against your skin, and the inferno that refused to let go.
Please younger Noct getting wrecked by Ardyn on the throne and YES YES YES to daemon shadow tentacles THERE IS A DEARTH OF DAEMON ARDYN IN THIS FANDOM AND I WILL ADORE YOU FOR FULFILLING THIS NEED.
Ok yeah I agree Noct getting destroyed by daemon Ardyn on the throne is the most in character thing that could happen in this situation.
And yes there is a sad lack of scourge!ardyn and I aim to remedy that.
Aaah I missed doing black and white sketches.
I’d have liked to see more daemon!Ardyn in the game. :|
I’d have liked to see more of literally everything.
The vast city of Eos was blanketed in pure darkness as the shadows filled the air, the dimly lit lights cascaded the ever increasing void of evil. A figure covered with a flowing red cloak travelled like the Wind, moving swiftly as his heartbeat was thumping loud like he was being chased by the night itself ready to swallow him whole if given the chance.
The young Adventurer panted as he took a break in a dark alley, wiping the cold sweat from his panicked face. His brown eyes scanning every direction as he kept his guard, ready to fight whatever came his way as he kept completely quiet in this dark landscape he was not familiar with.
