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

[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. ]

[philancer]

[ Something that is overwhelming, if only because the tenderness expressed is so foreign in its own way. His hips rock shallowly, no real urgency behind it, not when he's still drifting in such a pleasant haze. He's content to drift, to let his body react to Basch's touches, the press of his mouth. The pleasure that heats everywhere the other man makes contact.

He's still boneless and pliant, body utterly open and willing to whatever Basch wishes of him. Completely unguarded in his responses. Something that might inspire panic if he were awake. But for now, there's just the honesty of his pleasure and want. ]

[bardische]

[ Its the slow, gentle reactivity of those movements that have Basch weak and swelling with pleasure. Those are sure signs of trust and relaxation. He has no doubt Sylvain still thinks he’s sleeping, but he also has no doubt the joy and surrender and fatigue of last night are allowing him to.

Still slow, he slips his lips around the other’s head, savoring the size and warmth of him. He thought it would be a lot longer before he’d be welcomed to give this way. He runs his tongue along the other’s slit, humming lowly as he drags his knuckle down his shaft again, across his sack, down his thigh.

Gods he wanted this man. Like this. It was a fine treasure to work for. One they could both have a taste of today. ]

[philancer]

[ His head falls back against the pillow, lips parted on a ragged gasp. Throat working on a swallow as he shivers, cock twitching against the warm heat of Basch’s lips around him.

The man plays him effortlessly and there’s no resistance in him as he dances along after him. Mesmerized and lulled by the promise of that heat, and the safety it offers. The remembered pleasure that his body is already aching for. Craving.

He stirs a little closer to waking, if only because it feels so good even his subconscious has started reaching for it, for the man at the source of the heat and the hunger. ]

[bardische]

[ a part of him wants to devour the other, to hear more pretty gasps like last night, to fuck him in his bed and collapse again with him. But those are easier scenarios and he doesn’t want to waste this one. Or spoil it.

He works down slowly, retreating for every half centimeter he progresses, tongue laving around the other’s girth. One hand goes to gently squeeze the one in his hair, encouraging this contact and softness. The other holds his shaft where he wants it, thumb stroking reverently, still humming in pleasure and to stimulate.

It’s not long before his mouth is comfortably full. Sylvain is large. He relaxes his jaw further, breathing harder through his nose as he works himself further down the shaft, swallowing as it starts to press against the back of his throat. His own cock is hard now with want, with the danger of spooking the other, with the moan-worthy heat of having this pretty cock down his throat and knowing Sylvain will stir and see it eventually.

With the trust that’s budding here.

Finally he has the whole of him. He pauses there, breathing deeply, choking so slightly, enjoying his nose in the others hair and the undeniably masculine, sweaty, spent smell of him. ]

[philancer]

[ He's trembling, by the time Basch takes all of him. Body humming with need and pleasure and the lingering warmth and need of the night before. The magical effects have faded - somewhat - but the impressions they'd left behind have taken their hold. Sunk deeper into his awareness. His reality, now.

It had been emphasized and worked deep with every hour that had ticked past the night before. And perhaps pressed even deeper by an awareness outside of this current scene, always conscious of Basch's own uncertainties about some of this.

But it means, as that pleasure slowly rouses him this morning, it's got him slowly stirring awake still lost in that pleasurable heat, the lazy want. Body pliant and yet eager. The resistance and stubbornness still tamped down beneath a blanket of almost eager need. The ache to be touched, to be doted on, to have that hungry attention focused fully on him.

Even as his mind remains shrouded in thick fog as he shifts, dark lashes fluttering open over a sleepy, unfocused gaze, his body is more than responding, taking control for the moment. Not letting his thoughts start casting doubt or second-guessing what he's doing. What he's feeling. What he wants.

It's what lets clumsy fingers tangle needily in Basch's hair as he moans, breathless, and rock his hips up to press deeper into that delicious wet heat, cock twitching against the slide of Basch's tongue. The squeeze of his throat around his length.

The last thing he vaguely remembers from the night before, before everything went hazy with exhaustion and pleasure, was spilling as he clenched around Basch's cock, only one of many orgasms that he'd lost track of as the night wore on. So it didn't even seem all that strange to be waking up ensnared just as deeply as he'd been. ]

[bardische]

[ That was the riskiest part of all this, the part Basch had wavered on. That the magic would meld with Sylvain's feelings in a way that would be hard to untangle. But it was the tool he had, and the alternative was worse. Besides, was it so bad to be forced to relax, to enjoy? Some people couldn't get there on their own.

And this was clear bliss for the both of them. He hums low and wanting as Sylvain gentle pulses against his mouth, sending the vibration against his shaft. Bobs his head and strokes warm skin, sucking as he listens for hitching breath, feels for movement to become more stuttered. He basks in the growing knowledge of Sylvain's body and tells, in knowing he's the only one who lays hands on him.

That moan is beautiful, and Basch leans into the touch at his hair. Good boy.

He breathes heavy through his nose, pace persistent and sensual. A slew of things he wants to say flow through his mind, but maybe this is better. More real.

He moans again, grip tightening on Sylvain's hip, and he shifts himself so he can languidly rock against the other's thigh, letting him know just how much Basch is enjoying this too. His jaw begins to ache, but he doesn't care; he isn't relinquishing the other til he's spent. ]

[philancer]

[ He can't think. But to be fair, he's not really trying to think very hard. Not when this feels so good, when the heat washes through him in waves. He's waking up in increments, if only because his body is coming alive with stimulation, with need, and he's carried along on the rising waves.

His hips rock in a stuttered rhythm, no real pace or focus to them. He's just chasing the pleasure, the vibration of Basch's heated mouth around his length making him moan. He's shuddering, his cock twitching against the slide of the man's tongue as he presses up into him, fingers gripping with needy desperation.

The moans and whimpers that slip free are incoherent and formless, a wordless plea for more as his head tosses on the pillow, throat working around a choked gasp. ]

[bardische]

[ He channels the myriad of sweet, dirty things he wants to say into a steady stream of low moans and hums. Sylvain twitches against him and it’s all the encouragement he needs, bobbing and sucking and reveling in the hand in his hair.

And reveling in Sylvain’s large, rigid cock. Pleasing him this way is not the easiest, not with the strain on his jaw or the choking sensation in his throat. Basch only feels pride at taking the challenge, another way he can care for this man where others would fail.

Mouth still working, he cups Sylvain’s sack, his hair tumbling over both of them, his own cock now rigid and wanting.

This is perfect. ]

[philancer]

[ He was already halfway gone before Basch had even woken him, but now it doesn't take long at all before the sensations become too much and he gives a strained cry. Cock pulsing hotly in the tight heat of Basch's mouth, he spills with a whimpered cry that might be Basch's name on his tongue. His body shuddering from the overwhelming intensity of it, he can only slump back to the pillows, dazed and groggy, eyes dark and unfocused as he gasps for air.

He looks the utter picture of debauchery, flushed and sated against the dark sheets as his body trembles in the aftershocks of pleasure, too dazed to even know if he's awake or still dreaming right now. ]

[bardische]

[ It's so gratifyingly easy to get him to come. Basch takes all of him, swallowing hard and working him through his orgasm, moaning generously.

And when he pulls back, lips red and spit and come on his chin, he whispers curse and prayer tied up together, raking in the beautiful site of Sylvain debauched and sated and comfortable.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, the only pause before he sidles up, palms working slow and rhythmic up the other's thighs, his stomach and ribs. A cherishing, awed sort of exploration, slow and quietly possessive. ]

Waters and winds, you are a sight my pet. Precious and beautiful and so, so worthy. [ He's not even really aware of the nonsense spilling out of his mouth, even if every word of it is true. ]

[philancer]

[ His breath hitches softly at the praise, something in him already coming to crave those soft words of affection. And there's a visible flush along his skin in reaction. He licks dry lips, dazed eyes locked on Basch as he slides up his body, muscles still quivering and trembling beneath the caress of the man's hands.

He opens his mouth, but can think of absolutely nothing to say. Between being groggy and then having his mind blown with an orgasm first thing, his thoughts aren't exactly working just yet.

That and he feels a little hungover from the night before. not from alochol, but maybe the magic. Or the orgasms. Or all of it rolled into one. It had been intense and overwhelming and utterly consuming and in the aftermath, he still feels wrapped up in thick sated heat.

Everything feels a little more... subdued today. His fears and distrust and anger still a distant thing, pushed to the back of his mind while his body was still very much wanting to be wrapped up around this man who held him and praised him and gave him pleasure like nothing else before.

Some part of him wasn't in any hurry to really start thinking again. This was a much better dream than his nightmares normally allowed. ]

[bardische]

[ Their eyes meet, and Basch nearly whimpers. He manages to turn it into a moan, palsm warm and flat against the other. But seeing that trust, that want, knowing the other is conscious - if not entirely himself -- is a high he wasn't expecting today.

He makes his way all the way up the other, wrapping around him and pulling them both to their sides. Basch's erection is still hot against the other, but he has no intention of doing anything about it, instead savoring being able to kiss Sylvain slowly, tenderly, hands still moving slow, legs tangling together. Now that he doesn't have to overwhelm the other to stoke his desire, he can savor him.

He can savor how much he wants this himself, too.

Is he a terrible person, wanting a man he's coerced? Probably. But...it wouldn't have worked if the other's want hadn't been there. And his only intention past stoking that want was to take care of the other for as long as he could. ]

[philancer]

[ Sylvain gives a soft whimper when the man wraps around him, pulls him close. He buries his face against Basch's throat, still feeling a little overwhelmed, but that all seems to fade away each time he lets himself be wrapped up in this man who's come to own him.

A day ago, this would have terrified him. A day ago, he hadn't seen what the rest of this place was like. Hadn't seen that in his own way, Basch was a safe space. A protector, albeit an unconventional one.

Sylvain knew why he'd landed on that stage initially, sent to be sold to the highest bidder. After last night? He was all too aware of how his fate could have been so much worse.

As Basch presses against him, their legs tangled together, he feels the press of the man's cock against his hip and he can't help but squirm a little in remembrance. At how good it had felt to have Basch buried so deep inside him. How much pleasure they'd shared, whether Sylvain had been riding him, or sucking him of, or any of the other positions they'd thoroughly explored the night before.

He's still a little sore from it, his body very aware of just how much they'd done the night before, but that doesn't mean there's not still a spark of hunger, in an insatiable want for more, waking up just as surely as Basch had roused the rest of him. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch is, by contrast, very aware of how sore Sylvain likely is. And while he's glad the other can relish that soreness today, he is not going to push it. Today is for comfort and sweetness. So when he feels the other rock lightly against him, he sighs, stroking the other's hair back. ]

I love how eager you are, but today you rest. If you can't resist me, then I'll yield and ride you. [ He kisses the other again, tender, slow. ] But not until you've eaten. Do you want to lie in the bed or the bath while I get that set up?

[ He's already so soft for this man. Honestly, was when he decided to buy him. To make sure he'd be the one to buy him, days and weeks before the sale, before the kidnapping took place. He can sense some of the change, but if he knew how much Sylvain already was adjusting his view of the pirate, recognizing the way he was protecting best he could -- he'd be touched, but rattled too. This wasn't a life where people looked for sweetness. Maybe that was why he was so thrilled to be able to give it. ]

[philancer]

[ There's a momentary pout he doesn't even realize he makes, at being denied Basch's cock, but at those options, he groans and rolls back over to bury his face in the pillow.

He probably should opt for the bath - he's still sticky and this morning's exertions have only made him more aware of the fact. But at the moment? He's too comfortable to want to move yet. ]

Don' wanna get up. [ he mumbles into the pillow instead, wrapping his arms around it like Basch might try and drag him away. ]