#ishguardians

[elusive-heretic]

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[celestialhighwind]

*ALL CREDIT FOR PHOTOS AND PERFECT DELIVERY GOES TO OUR FC HAURCHEFANT*

Haurchefant: Anyway, Estinen, the Azure Dragoon ❤ I was wondering if you would accept this small little token on behalf of my-- well, love, I suppose. An all-consuming passion and desire to be yours, and you, mine. If you would have me, of course.

Haurchefant is positively beaming.

Estinien: And what's that??

Haurchefant: Aha, here. These, I got from, a dear friend.

[Trade complete].

Haurchefant kneels before you.

Estinien: But.... I sleep with my feet off the bed

Haurchefant laughs at you.

Estinien: YES Haurchie.... The answer is yes, I will be yours

Haurchefant shows you his uncontainable jubilation!

Haurchefant gives you a big hug.

Haurchefant: Fantastic!

Estinien blushes uncontrollably

Haurchefant: My heart is so full!

Haurchefant: And look! the sun is rising--- still foggy though aha

Estinien: It matters not

Estinien smiles

Haurchefant smiles in warm satisfaction before you.

[eredeha-a]

freckled stars. That's what those are. Beautiful, just like the blush and heat that spreads across her face and skin. He's connected the stars on her skin to the depths of the void and beyond, across the endless abyss and back again. Her heavy breaths as her chest rise and fall in rapid succession, breathlessly hoarse when he snares her lips again in a passionate liplock, his hips rolling in the depths of their passions.

"Close?" he practically purrs as he rolls his hips again, Estinien smirking beneath his lidded gaze as he really "shows his worth." Lewd and squelching noises are almost obscene, sounds he's learned that come from continuous lovemaking. She's hot and tight, so close now that he's learned to recognize as she draws close to the explosive end of an end. He's worn her hoarse, bratty until she's gotten what she wanted, and he's given it to her after all the lovebites, marks, and whispered promises he sears into her skin.

Promises of another time, promises of another day, of a future he didn't think was ever possible until now.

Estinien's spark of chaos, his mischief maker, and she is his. / from esti

❝ ↪ @ishguardians submitted an ask !!

And what are you going to do about it? 

Her teasing and pestering managing to get him right where she long desired. Body curved and pushed into the bedding while fingers and toes curl and grip the sheets at each bit of pleasure and bliss pounding her raw.

Clearly she needed to be put in her place, huh? 

“ Close - “ her response comes out in a whispered moan.

The familiar branding against her skin sparking the heat which spreads like flame. The sounds of their shared pleasure practically music to her ears just as her legs find way around him to trap him in place, to hold him exactly where she wants him. Where she needs him.

It’s a miracle that she’s even capable of opening her eyes long enough to get her own hazed glance to the way he’s looking at her in return. The heat of his own body, the sweat they'd managed to work up in their unity, the way his sharp gaze locks against her own in silent inquiry to ensure she's good.

She's good alright. Great even. She doesn't want him to stop.

An embarrassing shade of red burns her face. But each thrust reuniting their bodies is rewarded with another moan, another pleasured sound, a cry of pure bliss when the right spot managed to be hit against, legs squeeze more in silent command to stay right there, to not ruin the moment they find themselves sinking deeper into.

“ You better kiss me again, “ a needy pant, arms shooting up and reaching through his hair which she’d pull out of place and plan to make even more of mess with the way her fingers grab hold and pull. “ Bet you won’t do it – fuck. “  The curse mewls from her mouth when lips meet again for more heated kisses, getting lost in the lip lock the closer she finds herself getting to her release, body squeezing more against him to encourage his own to match with hers. “ K-Keep going. “ She admires her own brands against him, her own bruises and lovebites left behind along with scratches. She admires him. " You're mine. "

[mswhimsy]

[solvina-archive]

Haurchefant's fingers graze her cheeks, gently that it drifts close to her neck. His gaze watches her, his gaze kind and soft that he tilts his head. "Come here, my love," he murmurs, offering his arms. "The night is long and cold and you look as though you will need more than the fire to warm you."

she has never liked the cold.

something in this body,  something that remembers,  beyond the nightmares and the pain of becoming  --  warmth,  and sunlight,  where she blooms and grows.  foolish,  then,  that she would carve home in the coldest place on eorzea,  and moreso that she would look on it,  chilled in all its ancient ice,  and find contentment.

but contentment it is,  for there is no other word for the warmth alight in her chest,  the high flush of her cheeks as she rolls over in bed  --  white hair plastered to her cheeks,  looking half a fright in her exhaustion.  her nose and the tips of her ears,  twitching faintly in the darkness,  are cold as the snow outside.  his offer need not be voiced,  for she is already moving.  nose tucking into his side,  one leg thrown over his,  her laugh soft and mischievous as cold appendages find the warmth of him through the dark to draw soft gasp from his parted lips.

yes,  he is far preferable to the fire  --  which does not tangle in her hair in the dark,  which does not press warm hands to her hips as she straddles him,  as her hands find the curve of his cheek through the haze of shadow and sleep.  her thumb sweeps,  a slow catalogue of his cheekbone to his jaw.  tender,  and steeped in adoration.  “  quickly,  before i freeze.  “  she murmurs softly,  teasing.  revenge is swift,  as his fingers find tender spot against her side,  and she squirms,  gasping softly and swatting at merciless touch.  between breaths----  “  save your maiden,  lord haurchefant.  “

until those hands turn to soothing with gentle laughter,  and she finds his shoulders,  braces,  and presses mouth to his.  she is pressing soft giggles into the softness of his smile,  finding the warmth through the darkness,  and he makes it such easy work.

then,  it is wrong.  the fire is cold.  the body beneath her hands is cold as ice,  the blankets a tangle around her legs.  the dusk is oppressive and weighted.  there is snow drifting from the ceiling,  a slow steady fall.  there is no warmth here,  no warmth to be found.

she tries to stand and stumbles instead,  and as she hits the floor,  consciousness slams into her body-----  harsh,  jarring,  with the taste of blood.  she has kicked her blankets off in her sleep,  and the bed here is alone,  and cold.  not warm enough,  not cold enough.  make it burn,  or she has no interest.

he is not here.  she is alone.

her hands curl in the blanket,  her gasping chest finding purchase in the present.  it is a long while before the cobwebs clear,  before she comes back to herself.  a long moment before ghosts leave her rest,  and she can remember anything but the grief,  so cloying she can hardly breathe around it.  a cold knot,  in the center of her chest.  unforgiving.

her eyes unfocused in the dark,  wet with unshed tears,  she whispers his name into the night,  and sets him back to his grave.

[elusive-heretic]

Ambition by Preston Blake.

[elusive-heretic]

Good morning.

[elusive-heretic]

Vexation by Preston Blake.