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[bardische]

@basch fon ronsenburg

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OPEN SEASON

@knightly
36 / m / all / 7 of ♠️ > Q of ♠️

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Details

My Self-Summary

Have you ever dreamed of being wooed by a knight in shining armor? Well Captain fon Ronsenburg is your man. Literally. He prefers being attached to a commander, queen, charge, or leash. Rules are sexy, and he's here to be your loyal dog.

Dark and broody your thing? He's got that too, a whole lifetime of unfair, unjustified angst and suffering he's just waiting for you to fix. Don't worry, though. He's the whole package. Tender, caring, and likely to fall in love with you but keep it private until you order him to spill his desires. Which turns him on.

Oh, did we mention he's a horny slut? Because he is. He wants to take it every possible way, or be told how you want to be taken. And if you make it public or humiliate him a little, well, his lance will be all the happier to see you.

My Future Plans

Protecting the innocent, being used by the worthy, and being absolutely sexually exhausted at all times. It's his heroic reward, afterall.

My Talents

Basch was already like this at home. He's quite experienced in receiving and administering pleasure, particularly of the rougher variety. He's also happy to teach.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Someone teach this man how to relax. He needs it. His palette is rustic and that's a good place to start. If you get him dancing, the gods will smile in your favor.

My Ideal Partner

Someone who roughs him up, tells him what to do, and then sings sweet praises in his ear.

Height 5'11" Body Type Barrel-chested romance cover knight (but skinny from his trials. Take care of this man!) Smokes Never Drinks Lightly Drugs On rare occasion Sign Sagittarius Education Dalmascan Officer's Training Occupation Former Captain of the King's Guard Income $$$ He's got that 7 money, and he fucks around Children The people of Ivalice are his children Pets He was quite fond of his Chocobo and the squadron dog Hobbies Woodworking, learning Landisian ballads and stories, polishing swords

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

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

NEITHER

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

BATHS ARE HIS GUILTY PLEASURE

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES, THE ONES HE KNOWS ARE QUITE NICE

.05 TITS OR ASS

GOD YES

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

EITHER

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

EITHER

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

EITHER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

BOTH

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

ROUGH ROUGH ROUGH BUT GET THAT MAN TO ACCEPT GENTLE

The Defender
ISFJ-T

ENERGY

84%

introverted

MIND

91%

observant

NATURE

67%

feeling

TACTICS

90%

judging

IDENTITY

57%

turbulent

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

Beach Prompt: ParaSol Possession CW: dark themes, dubcon, d/s, sex prisoner, general nsfw

[philancer]

[ Sylvain had drifted off on one of the lounge chairs under the large umbrellas, unaware that that might not be the best idea. It had looked like a comfy bit of shade, a respite from the bright sunlight, despite there being no actual sun. It had been enough to lull him into a doze, and then a much deeper slumber to the sound of waves.

He's not aware of someone settling down in the chair beside him, or the eyes that watch him for a while with a possessive light in them, until they, too, slide shut and his unseen companion slips into shared sleep.

All he knows is his hazy dreams start to shift. Change. Take a shape of their own and some part of him should find that strange, but he doesn't. It feels like this is supposed to happen, that this is perfectly normal. Even when the world shifts from a fabricated beach into a different scene entirely. Although he can still hear the ocean waves from here. Blinks hazy eyes open to see it, out a large window although it looks... different.

He stares at it, though, mind empty and drifting, even though he should be confused. Some part of him is, but another part of him just accepts that this is reality. Just like he doesn't question the hands on his skin, unfamiliar and harsh as he's stripped of his clothing and pushed to his knees on the rough tiled floor. The clothing he's left with is scant and sheer - barely considered clothing, really, and leaving very almost nothing to the imagination.

His arms are bound behind his back and his legs are spread and also bound in place, leaving him uncomfortably stretched open and exposed. Teetering slightly. Although it doesn't occur to him to resist, to struggle, to pull away. Some part of his mind is shifting with the scenery, the scenario being set up around him. He belongs here now. On his knees. At someone else's whim. His freedom is a thing long gone.

And as if to emphasize that, a thick collar is fitted about his throat and fastened in place, tight and snug, something he feels with every swallow, with every breath. Breaths which come faster now, a hint of panic creeping up over him as his head spins. Confusion and trepidation. Unease... for what he doesn't know, but he can feel whatever - whoever? - it is growing closer. His time is up. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch was normally so careful to respect Sylvain's autonomy, and the skittishness he knew the other could have in being claimed too directly. Maybe especially because those rules were so often bent for Basch; he didn't want to take that vulnerability for granted.

But when he spots the man -- his lover -- napping peacefully in the shade, he can't help the swell of pride and affection. Or the jealousy, louder than it's ever been, that others on this beach have a claim to Sylvain, that they may be the one he wakes up to and goes home with. Not today. Maybe not ever. Maybe he shouldn't share anymore.

He settles beside him in the shade, watching, daydreaming, until sleep take him too.

He doesn't remember the transition to this place, or the beach he's left behind, nor is his mind hazy. He'd come here for a reason, this port that deals in men and secrets and darkness. A rumor had brought him, a series of gambles and payments well-played and carefully executed building up to this.

Sylvain was his. Legally, indefinitely. Soon to be bodily as well. He forces himself to make rounds while he waits for the preparations, having a celebratory drink at the tavern, where men congratulate him on his purchase, and sailors whisper about the why of it. It isn't Basch's typical style, though they know he spent some time in bondage in his younger years. A fantasy? And attraction? An old grudge?

All of them.

He sees to the innkeeper then, and his men. He is not to be disturbed until the following evening, and he keeps only his best servants on for needs like food and errands. And sends one out to make purchases. Outfits, to dress the new pet in. It will take time to break him in, and he will not leave Basch's side until he is good and trained.

With enough time passed, he finally ascends to the airy third floor residence. His own clothing has been selected for power, contrast: ceremonial regalia, a flaring cloak, belts and jewelry, and of course loudly clicking heels. His chest, though, is bare near to the navel.

He's sure Sylvain hears him before he arrives. Still, he takes his time opening the door, letting his eyes sweep over his prize as he enters.

The drug is unfortunate, but necessary. It eased his own time, so there is some little kindness in it. But he also doesn't want his toy broken today, not that way anyway. Otherwise, the man is beautiful, stubborn and defiant even like this. What little clothing he wears is more scandalous than if he'd been naked. ]

I see you've settled in nicely already.

[ He closes the door behind him, making it clear he is locking the heavy wooden door. ]

[philancer]

[ There’s little to show for his typical level of defiance, of his independence. Whatever his new owner’s people had given him had sapped out most of that, leaving him quiet and pliant. Floating, still. He doesn't realize why that is odd, or why that could be bad. He just… waits.

He hears the click of heels and something in him tenses, not even the heavy weight of his hazy thoughts able to completely banish the sense of trepidation that builds, simmers.

He remains on his knees, even though they’re starting to ache. HIs head turns slightly, dark amber eyes flicking to the figure that slips into the room. Closes the door behind him. Locks it.

Nervous, he licks his lips as he studies the stranger, not knowing who he is, or why he seemed to go to all this trouble to ‘acquire’ Sylvain in the first place.

He doesn’t offer any sort of answer. That hadn’t exactly been a question, after all. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch crosses to the table, slowly inspecting the tools and toys there, some only there to make ominous noises as he sets them down, others for his actual tastes. When he looks back, his prisoner is watching him, and that makes his lips curl. ]

You don't even know how good of an afternoon you're going to have, hmm?

[ He closes the space between them then, roughly taking Sylvain's chin so he has to look at Basch. ]

The stubborn ones always crave submission.

[philancer]

[ he doesn’t know what that means.

He wouldn’t have thought to call himself stubborn, although others certainly would at times. He doesn’t even realize that’s missing at the moment. While he might normally be difficult and pull away - or, perhaps, play coy while looking for an advantage here - those options don’t even occur to him.

Instead, his breath hitches, eyes darkening a shade at the rough grip on his chin. He doesn’t even try to pull away, but there’s a telltale shiver that slips down his spine as his dark eyes remain locked on the broad man towering over him.

Does he crave submission? He’d never thought about it before. Isn’t really thinking about it now, either, but that’s more because thinking feels like it requires too much energy. Too distracting, when all of his attention is currently being swallowed by the man holding him in place with a single hand. He swallows thickly, feeling the grip of the collar even more pronounced with his head tipped back like this. ]

I… I don't understand…

[bardische]

[ The dosage may have been strong. Hmm. Well, it will fade. His eyes trace to that collar though, hunger stirring at the sight of it. ]

I bought you, pet. You are mine legally. Soon your body will be too, and I'll wager desire will follow.

It will be a respite, I think, from all the running and decision making. All you have to worry about now is pleasing me and staying beautiful.

[philancer]

[ It's already fading, but he hasn't quite struggled his way out of the worst of the haze of it yet.

Or perhaps it's just that the secondary effects are only just starting to affect him. Stirring sluggishly in his blood. Pushing that thick haze away to be replaced with a slowly simmering heat, one that will only burn higher and hotter over the next few hours. But right now? It's still only a flicker, one easily mistaken as unease. Trepidation.

Although the telltale flush that steals over his skin at the man's words tells a different story.

He swallows thickly when the man's gaze falls to his throat, to the collar he can feel like a tight grip around him. A physical manifestation of that same possession of which he speaks.

he shakes his head, as much in disbelief as denial. ] No. I'm not... You can't...!

[bardische]

[ His smirk grows at that flush. The man's mind not be in sync with his body yet, but it's coming. Basch only has to know how to play the lead up. He strokes a thumb across his captive's jaw, voice calm as it would be discussing the weather. ]

You already are. I can show you the contract, if you like. But I won't enter you until you've asked for it.

[ Which he will. Will beg for it. ]

Tell me, pet, do you have any fantasies I can fulfill for you? Foods, clothes, travel? My cock in your throat? I take good care of what is mine.

[philancer]

[ Now he tries to pull his face away from that grip, frown growing as he manages to muster a glare up at the man standing over him. ]

I won't! [ Oh. There's the stubbornness. ] I'm no one's pet. Especially not yours.

[ Whoever you are. Because he still has no idea. Or why you wanted him in the first place.

And it's not like he's a stranger to the pleasures of the body - far from it. But all the talk of being reduced to a possession... Despite the squirming feeling in his stomach at the very idea, which he doesn't want to think about right now, it still makes him mad. ]

[bardische]

[ He doesn't dislodge his hand, grin spreading. ]

Ah, there's the infamous Gautier heir.

[ He lets it dangle between them, the knowledge that he knows who Sylvain really was. ]

You already threw away your power, kitten. You chose this path.

[philancer]

[ That's enough to freeze him in place, dark eyes widening with shock before he can even think to hide the reaction.

Although something in that last statement clearly rubs him the wrong way as he gives a derisive snort, lips curling in a hint of a sneer. A flare of furious anger in amber eyes. ]

Chose? I've chosen nothing. [ It's clear that's a sore spot. ]

[bardische]

[ Interesting. Is the anger at knowing who he is, or the cage he fled?

Basch doesn't let his chin go, not with how beautiful that defiance is. ]

Is that your desire? Choice? I can certainly give you that.

[philancer]

[ Yes.

But his sneer doesn't fade, in fact, that offer just gets another derisive scoff in disbelief. ]

You'll forgive me for not believing a word out of your mouth, since you just got done informing me I was your possession.

[ The word is spit out like a curse, his face flushed. He thinks it's anger, but there's something more in the heat that's starting to dance along his skin. Making sweat bead at his temples, the back of his neck. Basch might notice the way his eyes are starting to darken, dilate, his breathing coming a little more roughly. ]

[bardische]

[ That makes him smirk, eyes crinkling in amusement, even as his hand stays sharp on the other's face. ]

I'm quite patient.

[ he doesn't miss the changing demeanor of his toy. Patience is all he needs. ]

And if I were interested in idiots, I'd have bought a common whore. That mind of yours is half the prize.

[philancer]

[ A derisive snort at that, even as he tugs at his chin again, trying to free himself. Feeling the need to squirm away from that touch. If only because there's a part of him that weirdly wants to press more deeply into i. ]

Well, then you're a fool as well. You've wasted your precious money, if that's what you're looking for.

[ Everyone knows he's not great intellect. That takes ambition. And someone who gives a damn. Neither of which he'd ever made any claim to. In fact, he's far closer to a common whore than that, so the man is doubly the fool. ]

[bardische]

[ His own eyes darken, hunger flaring as that defiance starts to show, the fight against his hand, the dismissal. It will be that much more delicious when he succumbs, when he begs. ]

You misunderstand me.

[ He offers no explanation. Intellect and intelligence were not the same, and he knew exactly what he was after.

He tilts the other's head back and forth like he's examining a vase, but really he wants to see what the other will do. ]

If I made a deal with you now, one night with me for your freedom, would you take it?

[philancer]

No.

[ In fact, he scoffs at the offer, still glaring up at the man, trying to resist the way he twists and turns his face to drink in the sight of him. He knows he's pretty to look at. That's never been more of a hindrance than right now. ]

Anyone who's just bragged about possessing someone - to that someone - isn't going to risk losing what they paid for. [ The word is spit out, because he still can't believe he's ended up here, like this. ]

[bardische]

[ That gets a chuckle from him, and he doesn't try to stop the way his own cock is hardening. He'll be curious what the reaction to that is too. ]

You misunderstand my relationships to money and possessions as well.

[ He thinks the man is more upset at being caught than he is at Basch. Reasonable. So is not trusting his captor. Basch may actually have been brazen enough to let the other go if he'd earnestly taken the deal. But really, he wanted to keep this one a good long while, have him so trained that he wouldn't run even when the leash was gone. ]

Come now, what else would you like to tell me about myself?

[philancer]

[ Sylvain hasn't noticed that just yet - Basch's grip on his jaw keeping his gaze pointed up and completely missing what would be at eye-level right now otherwise.

And he's upset about all of it right now. He can't even pick what's at the top of the list. He hates all of this. And he hadn't noticed yet that he's started to shift a little. Uncomfortable, he thinks. The man's hand on his jaw making his skin itch and he thinks it's just because he wants it gone. It's the most obvious answer. To him, anyway. ]

You're an asshole.

[ At least that part was obvious. Or so he believes in the moment, anyway. ]

[bardische]

[ That gets a bark of laughter. He strokes a thumb over Sylvain's face, already fond of him. ]

Your intensity is beautiful. Well then. Should I go get someone else, make you watch us instead?

[ He pulls his hand away, turning toward the door like he really might. ]

[philancer]

[ He makes a frustrated noise and turns his face away. At least his face is free. But if anything, now his skin only itches more, and some part of him actually almost misses the warmth of those rough fingertips on his skin.

Which is ridiculous. He's clearly going crazy. ]

I don't want to watch. but you're just going to do whatever you want anyway.

[bardische]

[ Mmm jealousy yet, or just disinterest? Hard to tell. ]

I haven't quite decided what I want. Care to give me some ideas? I'd happily give you what you like.

[ He crosses back to the table, pouring himself a glass of wine. Just regular wine, but still a way to loosen things up. He swirls it, admiring it in the light before taking a sip, waiting to see if the other answers. ]

[philancer]

No, you won't.

[ He's still glaring, trapped as he is on his knees on the floor, arms bound and keeping him caught right where he is. ]

Because all I want is to walk out of here and pretend this day never even happened.

[ And he already suspects they've barely scratched the surface on how bad this day can still get - and likely will.

Even if that thought is sending yet another flush of heat through him, for reasons he doesn't want to think about. Visible, as it lightly stains his cheeks, his neck. Makes him shift slightly on his knees, uncomfortable and restless. A feeling that only grows as the man walks away.

And if his scowling amber gaze stay latched onto the sight of those lips parting at the edge of his wine glass, to drink, he's quick to jerk his eyes away the moment he realizes he's staring. ]

[bardische]

[ A cruel grin spreads on his face, swishing the wine as he turns back to the table, slowly selecting what he wants. A lead, which he turns back to show the other, drinking in the flush on his skin, the restlessness to his movement.

The glance at Basch's lips. ]

We could arrange that. I can ply you with wine, and take you for a walk.

[philancer]

[ His glare only intensifies in its heat. ]

It'd be really hard to pretend today didn't happen if you're still here.

[ he's not even touching on the indignity of being leashed and paraded through the town like some prized pet. The very idea fills him with rage. And a strange rush of shame-filled desire. ]