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[bardische]

@basch fon ronsenburg

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OPEN SEASON

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

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

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

[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. ]

[bardische]

[ Oh, he's stubborn. Basch can see the growing flush, and the resistance to it. He wishes he could know what was going on in that mind, what fantasies were being shoved down.

Instead, he takes a slow sip of his wine, cocking his head to consider his prize, then another before setting it down.

This time he comes behind the man, hands settling over his shoulders, thumbs knowingly settling into circles where muscles are like to be tense.

And this close, if Sylvain wriggles back against him, there's no doubt he'll feel Basch's hardened length. That's the other's choice, though; Basch was honest that he won't offer that sort of touch without an invitation.

Still, he can't resist baiting the other. ]

So tense. Wouldn't it be easier, to not fight so hard at every turn?

[philancer]

[ Sylvain watches him warily until he disappears from his line of sight, circling around behind him. With how he’s bound on his knees, there’s nothing he can do about that, but his posture tenses even more visibly in reaction to a threat he can no longer see coming.

And when those hands settle over his shoulders, he visibly jolts, even as a strange shudder sweeps through him at the contact, skin flushing with the sudden craving to press back into it. He wavers, almost giving in, before his spine jerks ramrod straight once more. ]

If you wanted someone cooperative, maybe you should have found someone you didn’t have to buy.

[bardische]

[ Ah, he's starting to give in. Basch stays where he is, fingers quietly but knowingly moving across muscle, savoring how how the skin is growing hot beneath them. ]

I got exactly what I wanted. [ There's a purr to his voice, still even and unruffled. ] You are perfect.

[philancer]

[ He's glaring at the floor instead now, since he can't see the actual object of his ire. ]

Oh, I assure you, I'm not. And you're not getting anything.

[ Even if the skin beneath those fingers is twitching slightly as he struggles with his own strange urge to press back against it. It has his voice coming out even more strained now. ]

[bardische]

[ He makes a noncommittal sound that is anything but agreement, wide hands moving lower across broad shoulders, skillfully tracing tight muscles. ]

And I assure you, I am already getting plenty.

[ Not a lie, but also certain to gain more of that ire.

Which will make it all the sweeter when he bends. ]

[philancer]

[ Sylvain just makes an incoherent sound of frustration at that. mostly because he doesn't know what Basch means.

But also over the fact that his skin is itching, burning, and the more those fingers skim, the more he craves it. He can feel a tremble starting in his muscles as he resists the urge to press back into the touch. He can't quite hide the faint squirm, though - at least as much of one as his bindings allow.

And that sound of frustration he'd made? Very nearly melts into a moan before he bites it off before it can slide there. Not wanting to give the man behind him the satisfaction. ]

[bardische]

Remember, you can tell me at any time what you'd like [ Basch purrs as his hands keep working, smirking at the way the other fights against his own desire. He's a patient man, and this is well worth the wait.

As his hands get lower, he splays them around Sylvain's middle so his fingers can dig into the muscles of the lower back. And when he moves back to shoulders, he steps closer, letting his own attraction brush against the other, teasing more than insistent. ]

[philancer]

[ He bites back his next instinctive retort, because the angry words are getting him nowhere here. In fact, they just seem to encourage the other man more. Which is the last thing he needs.

Not that Basch is really waiting for that anyway.

And then those hands move lower down his back, digging into tense muscles and his body jolts at the sensation, a strangled sound that's almost a moan escaping him before he can stifle it. Although he flushes deeply a second later, in mortification and anger (and definitely not in growing arousal) that the man had won even that much from him.

And that's when he feels the press of an erection against the back of his shoulder and he chokes on his next inhale, eyes going wide in alarm because oh fuck, what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

....Besides what his body very much wants to do. Yea, he's getting those images loud and clear. No, that's not at all an acceptable option here. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch's smirk widens. No protests, and what is clearly a moan and a stumbling choke of want. The man's body is reacting, and his mind is catching up.

And. No pulling away. No hissing at Basch's arousal.

He doesn't make a point of it, instead letting is hands wander up to massage into scalp. ]

Is it so bad, to be kept and pampered?

[philancer]

[ Oh, that is so cheating.

There's almost a whimper slipping free before he stops it, at the feel of those fingers in his hair, massaging against his scalp. The larger struggle is resisting the urge to melt into a puddle right then and there. Body craving that touch so strongly he trembles with it, mouth going dry, mind going empty of everything except want.

His breath hitches, fingers curling into fists where they're bound behind him, as if trying to distract himself from how good that feels. It's not working.

He almost completely misses the question, too, and then struggles to come up with an answer that's not utterly mortifying. ]

Y-yes! [ That comes out far more strained and breathless than he intended, but he's too distracted now to do anything about it, trying to keep a grasp on his focus when it's unravelling with each brush of Basch's fingers. ]