Inbox: Golden Peacock

[philancer]

@philancer

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OPEN SEASON

@philancer
25 / male / yes / 7♦️

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

Back home, I'm a noble, the son of a Margrave, but for most of my life I've been a knight and a soldier. I'm mostly just looking for a good time and people who are open-minded enough to enjoy it with me, maybe try out some new things. There's a lot here I've never gotten to experience and I'm interested in changing that.



Outside of that, I'm a connoisseur of fine food and fine teas. I enjoy cooking, gardening, horseback riding, chess, and discussing a wide variety of topics, whether it's art, fiction, theoretical ideals, or more esoteric topics.

My Future Plans

Enjoying myself to the fullest here. Making conections and meeting new people. Experiencing all this place has to offer and finding those interested in exploring it with me.

My Talents

Varied and many. I had a robust interest in pursuing pleasures of all sorts back home and I hope to keep expanding that knowledge and skillset here.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

I enjoy books on a variety of topics, but I've never seen a movie. Plays and operas are far more common in my world and a comparible form of entertainment. I like a wide variety of dishes and have a fondness for trying new dishes from distant places. I have a fondness for spices and rich flavors.

My Ideal Partner

I'm very adaptable and tend to adjust to whoever I'm with, making this a very broad category, since I have a varied taste in companions as well, depending on my mood. I find people interesting and like as many varieties here as I do in my favorite dishes.

Height 6'1 Body Type broad and muscular Smokes only when casting fire spells Drinks yes Drugs only healer prescribed Sign ...Gemini? Apparently?? Education Garreg Mach Officer's Academy Occupation Noble Paladin Income ... Children dear goddess no Pets Felix Horses Hobbies Reading, cooking, chess, tea, horseback riding, hiking. not dying.

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

both, depends on the atmosphere

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

neither

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

yes

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

what does this even mean??? and what's a nija?

.05 TITS OR ASS

yes

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

tea, although coffee is interesting, i will have to try more of it

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

spicy

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

both have their fine qualities

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

depends on who's wearing it. some people are just very much one or the other.

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

yes

Personality Type
Campaigner: ENFP-A

ENERGY

79%

Extraverted

MIND

55%

Intuitive

NATURE

61%

Feeling

TACTICS

61%

Prospecting

IDENTITY

61%

Assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[bardische]

[ He shakes his head, but there’s no distress in his expression. He holds Sylvain by the by the nape of his neck, bringing their foreheads together. ]

You must stop asking me that when I’m concerned for you. That was still all good then? Even with the coercion?

[philancer]

[ he grins as he rests his forehead against his lover’s, content to press close, that hand at the nape of his neck sending delicious shivers down his spine. His body is still humming with pleasure. ]

I’m not sure it actually counts as coercion when I was absolutely 100% into this before we even started. That’s why it’s a fantasy, love. [ Although he still expects Basch to worry, to fret over what they do as he comes to terms with it. Understandable. He had his own urges to deal with. Potentially considerably darker than what he’s used to, too. ]

I’m allowed to be concerned back, you know. Mostly because I could hear your brain starting to overheat. Yes, love. It was very, very good.

[bardische]

[ He lets Sylvain's touch and pleasure soothe him. It isn't hard when his own body is languid with the memory. But -- ]

Does it not cause you any struggle, what you want there, not knowing what we know here?

[ It's timid, earnest. That's the part he's still struggling with. But Sylvain reads hi so well, reassuring him where he needs, and he sighs, holding the other closer. ]

I don't understand what I did to deserve you. It -- was very, very good for me as well. [ oh he's red at that, the waves of shame barreling through him. But, maybe it's good, to talk through that. ] I like being right about what you'd like. I liked you surrendering. Especially because you'd resisted it.

[ That was what scared him. ]

[philancer]

It does, in the moment. But that struggle is gone, the moment I do know what I know here.

[ Which, in his mind, makes it a moot issue. But he slides his hand along Basch's shoulder, comforting and soothing. ]

I'm afraid your roguish self got what feels like a much younger and more naive version of me, than the one you're used to. At the very least, a much more stubborn version who's not so quick to trust or open up. So I'm sorry for the challenging predicament that's putting you in, but I have no regrets about the end results.

[ He can practically feel the heat that flushes through Basch, can feel the slight tension in him at that confession. He can guess at the shame and uncertainty there. It's what has his hands coming back up to cup at either side of his face, holding his gaze seriously. ]

Love, all of this is just more proof of how much you deserve me. [ Or better than him, really, but that's not going to get his point across here. ] From the very start, you've seen me. Seen past the bluffs, the masks. You truly wanted to see me. You... you have no idea how novel that is for me. Even in the illusion, you were not put off by my anger, by my prickly defense. If you had truly crossed any lines there, the scenario would have activated my safe word - that it did not should reassure you enough about how I felt about all of it.

Surrender... is not something I give easily. Or to just about anyone. You're one of the very few people, in all my life, that it always feels safe to do so with. [ A pause, before he shoots him a crooked grin. ] Even when I can't remember how much I love you, and let fear and my instinctive defenses try to keep you out.

[bardische]

[ He’s quiet as he listens, really listening and trying to hear what Sylvain is telling him. His brow furrows and he brushes Sylvain’s cheek in turn. ]

I’m sorry you had to live like that, but admittedly, it warms me provide some comfort and security to the part of you who was that scared and alone.

[ It’s still jarring, saying he’s providing comfort when he magically coerced a prisoner to want him. But Sylvain keeps talking and he presses his lips together, listening and nodding.

And his eyes grow wet hearing what it means to Sylvain, mixed with the relief that what he is in there — what he might be somewhere in himself — is still providing comfort and safe harbor, not damage.

And then Sylvain says those words, so casually and comfortably. Basch’s lips part, eyes widening slightly, mind overwhelmed with how much he’s trying to process.

He shakes his head, pulling Sylvain close again, kissing him tenderly on the head, the throat, the mouth. Reverent. Content. ]

Even…even in that scenario I want to protect you and destroy whoever has hurt you. I want to control you, but only to get that mind to shut off. I — I’m already in love with you there. Just like I was here, so quickly I didn’t realize.

[ its so much deeper now that it almost feels silly to use the same word, but it’s the same feeling. The seed of an emotion necessary for it to grow from sprout to the deep roots and ever growing branches they now have. ]

[philancer]

[ He wraps his arms warmly about his lover, tucking his face back against his throat once more with a soft, contented hum. ]

I know you do. Which is why I'm not afraid of it. I didn't even know I could turn my brain off like that. I tried everything, back in the day. Every vice, every trick, every substance. I could sometimes drink myself to that point but the hangover the next day rarely made it worth it.

And here you are, able to take me there with soft words and warm touches and incredible orgasms. This is definitely the better end of the deal.

[ Another kiss, pressed to the little hollow just under Basch's ear. ] I think it says something, that no matter the illusion or fantasy, no matter the challenge of it, we still find ourselves right back here. Like this.

[bardische]

[ A tear leaks down his face into Sylvain’s hair. He turns, breathing the other in deeply, holding him tight as he lets the emotion come. Thoughts he’s long had but never looked too squarely at for the enormity of them. ]

I thought it must have been a fluke, us getting together. Some miraculous ordering of events that couldn’t be replicated. Because — I spent so many years sure I was not meant for love. Not even for sustained lust really. That something beyond my understanding was fundamentally wrong, and anyone giving me affection was either mistaken or doing it out of charity. And that was alright. I had my duty and I cared about helping. I had beds to warm. I was … I was likely to die besides, and if I didn’t, then I would worry about domestic issues when I had a domicile to worry about.

But … this. This is what I’d always wanted, even if I didn’t know the details. That it’s replicable, that it’s always you… [ He squeezes Sylvain tightly, another tear joining the first, his voice strained. He’s not sure where he’s going. He just… ] I love you feels insufficient, but gods Sylvain, I love you. Somehow more every passing month.

[philancer]

I know.

[ His voice is soft and hoarse, but he knows Basch will hear him. he always hears him. His own arms tighten around the other man when he hears that emotion choke him up. Those softly murmured confessions. The ones that resonate with him so deeply, he aches with it.

How long had he spent thinking the exact same thing? That something in him was... broken. Wrong. Because he could never be more than a tool to those around him. An object to be manipulated or maneuvered, or just used to further their own ends. His wants or needs had never been important, just an inconsequential annoyance at best. And he'd resented everyone for it, even as he played their games with a sharp smile and quick wit. A forced shallow carelessness he wrapped around himself like a shield, so it would stop hurting so damn much whenever he accidentally exposed a vulnerability and immediately had it turned around against him.

Basch... Basch was everything he'd never let himself want, because wanting was too dangerous and Basch... he was the most dangerous weapon to Sylvain he could possibly imagine. But there was no one wielding him here, no one aiming him at Sylvain's weaknesses. And Basch himself would never turn a sharp edge to him - he'd proven that time and time again. ]

I know. [ He whispers the words again, because they're truer than Basch knows. he understands, and what's even more shocking, he knows Basch understands him.

There were no words to encompass that. ]

[bardische]

[ Maybe they aren’t so different from the simulation in the end. Basch knows what it means that Sylvain hears him, that he’s making words at all and not panicking at that show of love. Basch tenderly rearranges the other, tucking him closer into his hold and rocking him, fingers stroking soothingly as he kisses his hair. ]

I’m wildly proud of you, you know [ he murmurs, soaking in the warmth and softness of their skin pressed together, knowing it doesn’t matter when or where they are. This is safe. This is good. ] That after everything you’ve been through, you’re still willing to let yourself be loved. Here. There. Any time it’s presented, you turn toward it. That’s all you, brave heart.

[philancer]

I turn towards you.

[ he corrects him softly but firmly, splaying his fingers over the man’s heart. Feeling it beat beneath his palm. ]

You’re the one that’s made all the difference. You made it safe to reach for.

[bardische]

[ He feels small, embarrassed, like he’s ventured somewhere he shouldn’t and gotten caught. He doesn’t push away Sylvain’s words though. It would be too much like rejection.

Instead, his hand comes to fold over the other’s, nodding slowly, taking steadying breaths. ]

You turn towards me [ He repeats in a whisper, like it’s some illicit secret, like he’s taking space he shouldn’t. But at least this time he’s aware that’s another life talking. What matters is what Sylvain thinks is true, and it’s so clear he believes this.

Basch finds his lips again, tender and sweet. ] and I’m proud of you, and grateful for your trust, love.

[philancer]

[ He can tell there’s something in the words that makes Basch… uncomfortable? Uncertain? Something he struggles with, at the very least, because he can all but feel the tension sing through him in response. But Basch pushes through it, too. Clasps his hand over his heart, turns to kiss him again and Sylvain meets him, slow and sensual and warm.

He debates on asking, debates on whether this is a moment he should push on it, but after a breath, he lets it go. Little steps at a time, he thinks, and they’ve already taken big ones today. Several, in fact, and he knows the strain that in itself can cause.

So he just kisses him back and stays wrapped around him, limbs tangled and body pressed close. ]

You’ve more than earned it. I still don’t know what I did to deserve yours in turn, but I’m grateful for it all the same.

[bardische]

[ The only reason Basch doesn't argue is because he knows what it feels like to not quite understand why he deserves this. He trusts Sylvain's conviction that he does because his own that Sylvain deserves it is so strong. That, and the memory of how much it hurt Sylvain when he doubted the other always looms to keep him from spiraling too far into low self worth. ]

It doesn't matter if you never understand; it's still yours [ he murmurs. ] Let's get dressed and go eat, and then I want you back in my bed to rest.

Pirates Part 3 (cw: sex slave play, master/pet nsfw)

[bardische]

[ They stayed late at the event, though mostly because Sylvain was weak and Basch was in no hurry to have the man out of his lap. They fucked a few more times -- hands, mouths, cock; it didn't matter. Whatever Sylvain wanted. Basch kept him close, focused on him, cradled in his lap and so clearly his.

When they finally left, both were on wobbly legs. Basch led Sylvain home slow and patient, and instead of depositing the man in his guest chambers, he took him back to his private room. This room was less lushly adorned than the rest of the house; simple, with furniture from a distant land. Basch leaned Sylvain against the bed, gently undressing him and proceeding to give him a sponge bath for the worst of the night's mess, then settling him into the soft linens. After stripping and doing the same for himself, he climbed in beside the exhausted, dazed beauty, arms guiding him back to his hold, fingers immediately seeking hair and skin to stroke.

He's exhausted too, and doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to soft warm light and his pet still curled against his chest, and he sighs in a contentment he'd forgotten could exist.

The other lords and pirates here had been pushing him to take a pet for so long. He couldn't have predicted one could end up like this. ]

[philancer]

Mmmm. [ Sylvain hums contentedly, even though he's reluctant to move out of Basch's lap. They really do need to clean up, though - he is definitely very sticky. ]

That sounds like the perfect way to end the night.

[philancer]

[ The night had passed in a dizzying whirl of heat and hunger. At some point, it had all started to blur together, but through it all he was constantly aware of the warm strength of Basch's hands holding him close. The possessive - and protective - way he cradled him close. The pleasure he built, again and again, until Sylvain was suffused with it, body utterly sated and spent.

It hadn't even mattered that they were somewhere relatively public. That there could be - and probably were - eyes on them, greedily drinking in their movements. He'd forgotten all about that, because his entire focus, his entire world had narrowed down to Basch. The heat of his body, the slide of his hands, the hunger of his kiss. The feel of him buried so deep within Sylvain that he ached for it when the man finally withdrew, dressed him again, and then half-carried him home when his legs barely kept him upright.

He doesn't recognize the room he's taken to, but he doesn't really care about that. Exhausted and spent, the night's pleasures catching up to him, he's half-asleep the moment Basch pours him into his bed. He only stirs a little when he feels Basch crawl in beside him, draws him close, though he's quick to wrap around him, face buried against his throat as he all but clings to the man in his sleep, their legs tangled together. The hands that slide along his skin, through his hair, quickly lull him back into deep, quiet slumber.

It's quite possibly the best rest he's gotten in years. So much so that he's reluctant to wake, comfortable and warm and content as he is. His sleepy mind is still lost in a pleasurable haze as he wriggles closer, soaking up the warmth of the arms around him.

Although parts of him are certainly very aware of what - and who - he's pressed up against and wrapped around. Basch won't have to guess how happy part of Sylvain is to be waking up wrapped around his lover, after all the pleasure from the night before. ]

[bardische]

[ Pushing Sylvain farther today had not been his intent, but neither had bringing him back to his bed. This was progressing beautifully but also in ways past his machinations. Past his hopes, really.

That’s only deepened as, in the hazy half-awake of morning after, he feels Sylvain curling into him, making sounds of contentment.

And hunger. Basch almost laughs in delight, feeling that now familiar hard length against his leg. But this is too delicate, too sweet, too much progress to laugh. He pushed this man to trust him, and when those walls came down, the dam burst. He was so delicate, so tender. And the magic was mostly out of his system. Basch had been right; this man was hungry for this. It was fortunate he was also hungry for Basch.

So he lazily slides his hand down, warm fingers trailing up the others’ thigh, over his ass, then stroking a finger up his cock. ]

Good morning, sweet thing.

[philancer]

[ He’s not awake, not quite yet, so at best, Basch will get a sleepy, incomprehensible murmur before the redhead groans and stubbornly burrows deeper into the man’s hold. Not a morning person, not even here, he’s reluctant to leave the content, easy warmth slumbering in Basch’s arms had offered him.

And not awake enough to remember why he should be objecting to that.

So instead Basch gets to feel the pleased little shiver that slides through him at his touch, the huff of warm breath against his skin as the redhead squirms a little, cock twitching eagerly against the stroke of that finger.

Responding easily, naturally, when his mind isn’t awake enough to offer protest or reluctance. The magic might have faded, but his body more than remembers how good Basch had made him feel. ]

[bardische]

[ He just chuckles and caresses the other back, kissing his hair and cradling his head. He angles him gently, working his thigh between the other’s. Not pumping him, just giving him something to fold into, rock against.

He moves his hand down the base, circling it, letting the warmth envelop while his thumb strokes lightly. The other clasps his neck, and his lips work down toward his forehead. Slow,
Sensual touch.

And then he rolls them, so his weight is a blanket on the other, and his lips move to Sylvain’s brow, his cheekbone, just below his earlobe. Mapping him. Paying tribute to him. That no one has worshipped this man is a crime. ]

[philancer]

[ The cocoon of warmth and contentment only deepens and Sylvain’s more than happy to soak in it. Basch’s touches, his maneuvering, gets quiet, sleepy noises of either protest or pleasure from him, but the redhead still doesn’t stir completely awake.

His body does chase after those touches though. The heated friction of that thigh pressing in between his legs. That gets a soft, sleepy groan as he rocks against it, cock hardening further. Clumsily, his hands come up to cling to the other man’s shoulders, holding on to him. ]

[bardische]

[ Gods he's precious like this, sleepy and trusting. It makes him seem youthful, vulnerable. And Basch moans in pleasure of his own Sylvain rocks sleepily against his thigh, hands groping to wrap around him.

He keeps his voice a low murmur, leaning up to trace the marks from the night before with gentle fingers. ] Don't you look pretty all sleep-tossed and relaxed, covered in my marks. But I'm covered in yours too, aren't I?

[ His mouth returns to skin, lips and teeth gently exploring throat, shoulder, pecs. Nosing the warm flesh. Touching just to touch, even as his thigh stays firmly where the other can grind against it. Let this be a waking dream, a gentle reentry to the world of the waking. ]

[philancer]

[ It is a good dream, a heated haze creeping into his awareness. For a while, he thinks he is dreaming, or that perhaps he's still caught up in the deep grasp of heat from the night before. Instead of waking him, the movement of Basch's lips and hands on his skin just keep him floating there, reluctant to wake from this pleasant dream. As if afraid it will all vanish when he opens his eyes.

Maybe it will...

So he's reluctant to drift too far in that direction, wanting to stay here as long as he can. Caught up in heat and touch. In that surreal feeling of being cherished and safe.

He moans softly, a wordless plea for more, even as he shivers beneath the brush of that soft praise, skin flushing in quiet pleasure. ]

[bardische]

[ The warmth in Basch's chest isn't strictly arousal. The port island is better than the mainland life in many ways, but it isn't free of intrigue, politics, stress. Sex is both without strings here, and with a tangle of them he can't ever seem to sidestep; such is being high profile in a place like this.

Getting to take care of someone, and someone who needs it, is a fantasy that he's kept locked away for a long time, even from himself. This isn't the sort of place that can play to that, and certainly not when he's bought his pet against his will. Except, somehow, it is. And he aches for that ember to grow.

So he just enjoys it this morning. The way Sylvain moans, pleading wordlessly, the way he's so pliant and relaxed under Basch's touch. His nose traces down, across ribs, across abs, and he pulls his legs away so his mouth can nestle down against course hair and tender skin of inner thigh. He turns his head, kissing the base of Sylvain's cock, fingers trailing down his side. If last night was a frenzy, then this is a slow, easy smolder. ]

[philancer]

[ This... this is territory that not even Sylvain's dreams often drifted to. A sort of tenderness and doting that is utterly foreign to the redhead. Maybe that's part of why he's so reluctant to wake. Wanting to cling to this for as long as he can manage.

And then that decadent mouth moves down to his inner thigh and his breath catches, throat working around a much deeper, breathless moan as his fingers drop to tangle in Basch's hair, trying to tug him closer. Wanting to feel his mouth where he's already hard and aching. ]

[bardische]

[ To know he’s already turning this terrible luck into a dream would fill Basch to the brim. As it is, he chuckles warmly at the hand in his hair, the familiar want in that moan. The vibration of it undoubtedly rolls against Sylvain’s cock.

He’s still in no hurry though, running a knuckle gently up and down his length, planting kisses from base to head as his hand slips to palm his warm sack. His own cock is stirring, the want not easy to stoke but the knowledge that this is slow and that his own pleasure isn’t any real priority keeping it a slow build. Still, he shifts his position so the other can feel his hardness on his leg, free hand absently stroking his hip bone. If the other is overwhelmed by anything this morning, it should be by caresses and tenderness. ]