Inbox: Golden Peacock

[philancer]

@philancer

▶ TEXT

▶ AUDIO

▶ VIDEO

▶ ACTION

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

[armwriostle]

[He shivers as he feels teeth against his ears and he can't help but rock his hips a little, feeling the other's erection rubbing against him.]

How crass. Do you always speak this crudely in the morning? [Not that it's stopping him from pressing up against Sylvain. At this point, it's obviously intentional.]

[philancer]

[ He’s pretty sure it had been intentional from the very start. Which is what has him biting down playfully against Wriothesley’s earlobe. ]

Usually, I don’t bother speaking at all. At least not before my morning tea. But I guess I’ll make an exception for you.

[armwriostle]

[Wow, it was not intentional from the beginning. It was intentional pretty quickly in though.

He groans at the sting and he finally turns around so they're face to face, tangling their legs together.] Mm, morning tea sounds good right now. I wouldn't mind a cup of tea. [Despite his words, he sneaks a hand down to palm at Sylvain's cock. The movements were languid, like he isn't in a rush to get up.

And he wasn't. Sleep still lingers in steel blue eyes as he looks at the other.]

[philancer]

[ Sylvain gives a sleepy groan of his own as those fingers stroke over his cock, hard beneath his boxers and his hips rock into that touch automatically as he wraps his arms around the other man and draws him closer. ]

Well, that’s not going to get us to tea any faster.

[armwriostle]

[Wriothesley's eyes flutter closed as he presses closer, grinding down against Sylvain's thigh. It's no surprise that the boxer was also hard.]

Do you want me to stop then? I can stop. [He won't. He was already slipping a hand into Sylvain's boxers so he can wrap fingers around the redhead's length so he can start stroking them without cloth in the way.] Tea isn't going ahhnywhere...

[philancer]

[ A husky groan as he slides his thigh between Wriothesley’s legs, pressing up against him, even as those clever fingers wrap warmly around his cock. He bucks into that touch, hardening further, even as he bends his head, lips finding Wriothesley's bare shoulder. Trails kisses along the warm flesh there. Lazy and languorous. ]

Don’t you dare.

[armwriostle]

[That makes him laugh. Of course he wasn't going to stop, but the warning is funny nonetheless. How could he stop anyways? The firm weight in his hand as he strokes the other, the sweet sounds Sylvain was making, the butterfly kisses against his skin, and the pleasure as he shamelessly humps Sylvain's leg. Pleasure rides up his spine everytime he presses his clothed cock against a muscled thigh, a soft moan escaping his lips as he ruts against the other.]

Mm, I won't. Don't worry. [He squeezes gently.] I'm rather fond of hearing you like this.

[philancer]

[ Another breathless moan as his head falls back against the pillow and his eyes flutter closed. His movements are slow, lazy and almost sluggish, but he tugs Wriothesley with him until the man is sprawled across his chest and he can drag him down for a slow, sensual kiss.

And props his knee up, so Wriothesley is now straddling his thigh more firmly. ]

The feeling is mutual, at least.

Beach Prompt: Parasol Tentacle Fantasy CW: dubcon, d/s, tentacles, altered states, NSFW

[bardische]

[ Wood creaks and splinters under the force of his hold. He's vaguely aware water is rushing in where he's damaged the integrity of the vessel. It doesn't occur to him to wonder if there are others onboard. He doesn't care. There is a storm, and the sailor he wants is in danger.

It's easy to stay balanced and attached, his thick tentacles gripping the hull. The sea is rough, though, and before he can reach him, the red-headed man is tossed into the waves.

The ship no longer matters. Basch tosses himself from the side, back into the general calm of the water. He's quick here, dodging debris, looking for that floating figure. There he is, legs, bobbing in the throes of a wave, balancing on some piece of driftwood.

Two tentacles encircle Sylvain's ankles, yanking him down into the water as another reaches to secure his chest. He pulls the man down against him, cradling his too-cold body as he fishes in the satchel at his waist for a small knot of seaweed. ]

Eat this [ he says, pressing it to Sylvain's mouth. The sounds are likely garbled, but the weed will give the human the ability to breathe beneath the waves and hear Basch more clearly. ]

[philancer]

[ It happens so fast it makes his head spin. The storm that had seemed to come up out of nowhere, waking him in his bunk as it tossed the vessel about on angry waves.

At least… he thinks that’s what happened. It’s all kind of a blur, actually, and he has the very real threat of trying not to drown in the meantime, desperately clinging to a piece of driftwood with waning strength as he’s battered by stormy waves.

And then something drags him under, something wrapped around his legs and pulling him down, down, deeper, as he struggles, chokes on water, not having had enough time to drag in a lungful of air. It infuses him with a sense of panic, this familiar feeling of drowning, of not being able to drag air into his lungs, even as a flash of lightning cuts across the sky somewhere far overhead.

But before his lungs can give out, something is shoved into his mouth, something salty and stringy. It tastes foul on his tongue, but his body isn’t working right. Or something pins his heavy limbs in place, he can’t actually tell. And whatever is pushed into is mouth is held there until he has no choice but to swallow.

The taste doesn’t get any better, but instead of choking for air, he’s suddenly choking on a mouthful of water, the pressure gone from his lungs as he hears what he thinks is a voice murmuring nearby.

But that’s impossible. Isn’t it? Is he already dead? ]

[bardische]

[ Another tentacle brushes Sylvain's hair back as Basch reaches out to cup his warm face. His body is warm, a want growing in him. He's dreamed of this for a long time, and this isn't how he'd meant it to happen, but he's glad it did, because his sunset-haired sailor would likely have perished if Basch had not been here to save him. ]

You can breathe now. You're safe.

[ Well, from the storm and the water anyway. Seeing him near-drowning like that made Basch's heart sick, but his lower regions stir, and his eyes rake over Sylvain's mouth, already wondering what it would look like with one of his sinuous limbs pressed down it. ]

[philancer]

[ Still dazed from the ship and the storm and the violent seas, there’s no resistance in him, no struggle. More confused than alarmed, he plinked at the face floating in the water in front of him. Speaking words he can both hear and understand.

Which… makes no sense. That should be impossible. Why isn’t he drowning? ]

I don’t… I don’t understand.

[bardische]

I saved you.

[ It’s gentle, but proud. ]

As long as I have you, nothing else will hurt you.

[ But he’s too distracted by that wide-eyed, bedraggled face, and as he speaks their lips get closer until they’re pressed together, slow and hungry. ]

[philancer]

[ The noise he makes into that kiss is more surprised than anything else. Something about this still feels... off. Like maybe he shouldn't be sinking into the strange warmth of it. Trying to lean in closer as those lips claim his, his own parting in silent invitation.

his head is still swimming and thoughts... are harder than they should be right now, so he doesn't bother. It's easier, to let himself sink into whatever fantasy is unfolding around him. There's a strange sense of trust so deeply seated in him that he feels no fear as this stranger wraps around him and kisses him breathless.

If anything, he craves more of it. ]

[armwriostle]

[He kisses back, a lazy slide of their lips together, shallow breaths as he rolls his hips as he does so. His erection is obvious in even his loose pants, the hardened length presses against the man's thigh as he slides up and down. It's languid in movements, taking his time with the pleasure.]

Hah...you feel good. [His hand stroking Sylvain's length is uncoordinated, the strokes uneven, but enjoying the feel of the hot, steady weight in his hand.]

[bardische]

[ Kisses him breathless, tongue invading the other's mouth, even as he feels arousal take his own body. It's different, like this, and his tentacles are what change, the suckers beginning to line with a secretion that will fan the other's hunger.

But they need skin for that, and begin to press down wet fabric, sliding down leg and arm hole, shredding useless clothing as they proceed. ]

[philancer]

[ The kiss certainly isn't making his head spin any less and his hands end up reaching for the man (man?), clinging to him just to have something solid under his hands. He moans into the kiss, low and husky. He feels... He doesn't know what they are, actually? Hands? Limbs? slide along his own body and he shivers at the feel of that, the warmth of them in the cool water, craving that heat. It feels... comforting, in its own way, which he doesn't stop to think about either.

And then he feels the fabric of his clothing pulled taut, and then give as it rips away. Dizzy and dazed as he is, he still manages to make a quiet noise of protest into that kiss keeping his mouth occupied. He feels like he should protest that, even if the thought is a brief one before it's chased away.

Chased away by the feeling of dozen's of tiny mouths latching slickly onto his skin, making his breath hitch, and then he gasps into the kiss as he squirms. ]

[bardische]

[ It's better than he imagined. He has full feeling in the tentacles, and it's maddening feeling so much of Sylvain under his grip.

Even if it tugs at his mind. How had he imagined this? How long? How did they meet? How--?

The sound of protest takes his attention. Some part of him feels like he ought to slow down, to check if this is alright, but some stronger heat flares, and instead he doubles down, other tentacles coming to help remove the fabric, tongue pressing deeper into Sylvain's mouth. That squirming is delicious. He wants more. Wants Sylvain hungry and senseless before he fills him. ]

[philancer]

[ Basch somehow manages to deepen the kiss even more, even if Sylvain has no idea how.

It feels like those mouths are everywhere. That would make more sense, if he realized his clothing were completely gone now, leaving him bared and naked in the tentacles' grip. But he's far too distracted by the sensation. Sucking, slick, sliding. His skin heats beneath those dozens of tiny mouths, and he distantly wonders if that's just because this man himself is so warm? Is it spreading to him? he shivers again, squirms some more, but even he can't tell if its away or towards or... maybe just to move. ]

[bardische]

[ He wanted to wait until the other gasped and begged, but the more he reacts, the more impatient Basch becomes. His tentacles continue to shift, some holding Sylvain tigther, while others stroke his inner thigh or the soft skin of his neck.

One presses between the cleft of his ass, not pressing in yet, but Basch gives a shuddering moan, heat building in him as his own fluid builds in his appendage. ]

I've been dreaming about this for such a long time.

[ He catches Sylvain's face, wanting to see him, feel him, as that tentacle presses to his opening. He gives a shudder himself, liquid spilling from his tip to slicken his prey, his desire. ]

But you're always better than I imagine.

[philancer]

Think that's my line.

[ It's different from their normal, this slow lazy pleasure. So often, they tend to be rougher, faster, harder. Granted, a lot of time their need is a hungrier thing than this slow simmer that flickers this morning. This is... softer.

But certainly not less, by any means.

His free hand tangles in Wriothesley's hair, carding fingers through the dark tousled hair as he lets the man grind against his thigh. His own hips buck slightly, trying to press up into the warm calloused touch teasing his length to hardness. Which Wriothesley is managing with little difficulty. ]

[armwriostle]

[Wriothesley drops his head, letting it hide in the crook of Sylvain's neck. His breath, instead of coming out in puffs of warm air, was actually quite cool against Sylvain's skin. He lets out a pleased sigh as Sylvain tangles fingers into his hair, enjoying the feel of them.

He continues to rock his hips, taking his time to rub his clothed erection against Sylvain's leg as he moves, his strokes going just as languidly.] Mm, hey, what do you want to get for breakfast? [Might as well talk about their morning routine while lazily getting off, right?]

[philancer]

[ It feels like those touches, those mouths, are everywhere at once, and if he could think straight right now, he'd wonder how that was possible. he can't though, thinking so disjointed and so easily interrupted by the next wave of sensation as Basch explores somewhere new. Places he'd never thought of as sensitive before somehow heat and tingle and shiver beneath the slick slide of those limbs, the dozens of tiny mouths that suck redness into his skin beneath their relentless suction. he can only moan and gasp and writhe, completely caught and overwhelmed by the assault on his senses.

And then he feels one press up between his legs, rubbing against the cleft of his ass, its tip probing his entrance in a way that has his body arching with a choked whimper, finally breaking free from the kiss. His body tries to drag in a lungful of air, but of course there is none here, and it's a good thing Basch gave him the ability to breathe down here because he definitely would have just drowned himself.

The sensation shoots along his nerves like lightning, the limb teasing around the tight ring of muscle, it's surface somehow slicker than the water around them. His skin heats and he moans, eyes going half-lidded and unfocused, an expression caught between hunger and bliss on his face for Basch to drink in. ]

You've... dreamed? Of this?

[philancer]

[ Wriothesley. You expect him to be thinking right now?

Yeah, that's not happening. ]

Food.

[ That's a completely valid answer, thanks.

But deciding fair is fair, he slides a hand inward to slip inside Wriothesley's clothes to wrap around his cock as well, stroking him with the same slow, sensual languor. ]

[armwriostle]

[Wriothesley barks out laughter at that, a sound that quickly devolves into a wanton moan as Sylvain slips a hand passed the waistband of his clothes to stroke him. He happily ruts into Sylvain's hand with pleased sighs and sweet, little sounds in the back of his throat as he moves.]

Ah, very descriptive of you.

[He feels pleasure slowly build in his body. It's more like a gentle simmer than the hungry desperation he usually expects of sex. His hand slides up and down Sylvain's length as he rests his head under the man's chin.] Sweetheart.