#ft. roland

[adrasian]

Adrasia's eyes opened again as Roland's voice found him, almost startled to hear his response. The celestial had gotten too used to confessing to that which never spoke back. "Who?" He echoed, throat clicking as he swallowed past the sudden lump, slowly lifting his head from his knees again as the vampire's fingers continued to tug gently at his locks. For a moment, he struggled to make sense of the question, of what 'it' was, before he remembered himself and the reason behind why his thoughts swirled around his mind like the blood wine in one of Roland's fancy glasses. When Raphael's face swam in front of Adrasia's eyes though, it wasn't as he had looked looming over the angel earlier that night, but gored and grinning across the scorched earth of the gardens, one broken wing making a mockery of an offering back to him. Adrasia's hands clenched into fists and he had to breathe, to force himself to relax again as he'd sworn he would. Did it matter who? Did it matter what?

Roland must have taken his silence for refusal to say, for he moved on and Adrasia swooned back into that pleasant touch for a brief moment, a soft noise prying from his throat in response, before the words that came with the pass of his fingers registered and his heart clenched. A sudden fear of Roland misunderstanding him lurched through him, "I did not only mean the demon," He said shamefully, insistent, "I have lapsed before tonight. In my... judgement. In my composure." Adrasia couldn't understand why it seemed so desperately important to convince Roland of his failings, or maybe he only felt the need to say to someone, anyone, all he knew he'd done wrong. "I have neglected to follow the counsels I've given others. I've disrespected the wisdom of my elders, of my own experience." He pressed his hands over his eyes then, the burning there, "I have... doubted." He could not say what. In the quiet that stretched out like an ocean before them, he collected himself slowly, timed his breaths to the careful workings of Roland's hands, the inexplicable comfort of the other beside him. Then came the next lilt of the vampire's voice, teasing softly and Adrasia let out a harsh breath that was almost a laugh, something uncoiling in his gut, relaxing in the set of his shoulders. It should be worth confessing, that he could feel anything close to safety by this man's side. He needed that feeling now, though, more than he was ashamed of it.

When Adrasia pulled his hands away from his face again, his eyes were dry. He wasn't back to himself fully, not yet, but the threat of that awful fragility had passed, the ache that made him feel like he was about to crack open irreparably in Roland's bathtub. There would be no tears. The councilman stroked his hair one last time, gentle and slow and Adrasia found himself leaning into the touch with a shaky sigh as it left him, watching Roland settle himself more comfortably. How long had they been there? "A little while," Adrasia said softly, "Alright..." It felt like being embraced, letting himself relax more fully into the warmth of the water, nearly mimicking Roland's posture with an arm trailing along the side of the tub and his cheek pillowed against the damp skin. "A little while," he repeated, a quiet insistence, even as his eyes fell half-shut without thinking, Roland's face a tender blur in his sight, "Then you'll take me back?" He had not forgotten.

There was something soothing and satisfying about being able to take care of Adrasia like this, not to mention intimate. Granted, Roland had only ever bathed lovers before and then he was usually in the bath with them as well and the circumstances were different. He supposed he and Adrasia were lovers in the physical sense but to Roland that word generally meant a lot more, like feelings being involved. They weren't here, at least not romantic ones, though Roland couldn't seem to help the sympathy he had for the angel and the fondness he'd developed for him. Getting to bathe him soothed soothed the vampire's impulse to comfort him physically, though he was gentle and as respectful as he could be, moving slowly and asking to move onto different body parts which seemed to work well. Roland didn't talk much outside of that and once he was washing Adrasia's hair he didn't talk at all, just working his fingers gently through the long strands, the motion hopefully calming in its repetitiveness. Adrasia seemed mostly calm now and more relaxed and that was good. Roland would have been endlessly grateful if someone had ever been so kind to him after those first times with his maker. Not that he expected the same of Adrasia but in a strange way Roland liked that he could offer this, that he could give something that had never been given to him. It felt like reparation, of a sort, though that was foolish since it didn't change his past. Perhaps that was the drink talking.

Roland was lost in his thoughts or perhaps just in a sort of soothing trance as he continued to wash Adrasia's hair, so much so that the words surprised him a little. He paid attention though, frowning slightly at the statement. Roland would have responded but Adrasia continued and it seemed somehow wrong to interrupt, though the longer the impromptu confession went on the more Roland frowned. The motion of his hands didn't stop, making sure he rinsed all the shampoo out of Adrasia's hair, even as the angel went on to blame himself. "Who was it?" Roland probably shouldn't have asked as ultimately it didn't matter but he couldn't stop himself but sighed at the impulsiveness. "Only if you want to say, of course." The fact that Adrasia seemed to think it was his fault bothered Roland and he was about to address that when the last comment came. A surprising statement that would've been amusing if the angel didn't suddenly seem near tears. Best to deal with that first. He lifted a hand and stroked his fingers gently over Adrasia's scalp, massaging lightly. "It's not your fault, mon ange. No matter what you said or did you're not to blame. Don't argue with me on this, either." The words were soft but entirely sincere. No matter who it was, there was a way Roland knew he could provide more protection. He'd already been considering it but this...well, this cemented it. He was silent for a moment, letting that sink in, then pulled his hand slowly back so he could finish rinsing out the shampoo. "As for me, well, it would hardly be the first time I've been misjudged." There was a little bit of amusement there, gentle and wry. "I can hardly blame you for it. Very glad to hear I've won you over, though." Roland wasn't trying to make light of the serious nature of what had just come before but making things feel more normal, he hoped, would help at least a little. What was more normal than his teasing and arrogance? Adrasia should be well used to both by now.

"There now. All done." He ran his fingers through Adrasia's hair one last time just to make sure it was completely rinsed then withdrew his hands, though rested one arm on the edge of the tub as he shifted so he was sitting rather than kneeling. "You can just relax for a while, unless you want to get out."

[gwyndolence]

for @councillor-roland

They were several hours deep into the night already by the time Gwyn found his sire, knowing of course that Roland wouldn't dare miss a good party and eager to see exactly how the elder had painted himself up for this year's festivities. It had been quite a few years, actually, since the two of them had been together for Halloween -- all the more reason in Gwyn's mind to make up for lost time. Then again, the sith was reminded, giggling to himself as he approached where Roland was idly watching the crowd in the street below, the two of them didn't celebrate exactly the same way nowadays. It would be a minor miracle, too, if Roland had any idea what his fledgling was dressed as.

"Of course you'd find the most old fashioned party to plant yourself in!" Gwyn all but spilled into Roland's arms once he was close enough, hugging his sire tightly around the waist with a toothy grin, "Where's your paramour gone to? Doesn't he know not to leave a handsome man unattended in this town?" The sith's words slurred together a bit, lush with affection and all he'd been drinking (from multiple sources). The brightest edge of whatever concoction Seth had given him had long since burned away and now Gwyn just felt good, bubbly and warm, pupils wide and dilated as he took Roland's costume in. "Look at you," He said with gush of laughter, reaching to pinch the elder's rogued cheek, "Just happened to have the wig lying around in an old trunk, somewhere? It's fun! You should grow your hair out, I think."

[swingstep]

...If that is what you say.

[amystarrstuff]

part 5 (part 4)

[adrasian]

There was the silence again, creeping into Adrasia's heart and infecting him with doubt. He gazed at Roland's unreadable expression with a hesitant look to his own, wondering if he should take his leave regardless, before the vampire leaned up again to gently take his face. Oh. Adrasia's eyes slid closed before Roland's lips even reached his, a bittersweet pang of something sounding in his chest as the master kissed him. It lingered for so long, over the span of many breaths that Roland didn't need and the celestial held regardless, his heart thudding hard and steady beneath his ribs, strangely calm in the midst of this strange intimacy. It was - inappropriate, for either of them. It was brutally tender. Adrasia inhaled deeply as Roland finally broke away, eyes darting up again just in time to catch the other's empty smile. Something very nearly made sense to him then. A goodbye kiss, a reluctant one. How much closure had the vampire gotten, in this newest heartbreak?

There was nothing more to say. Adrasia nodded slowly as Roland pulled back and made for his robe, finding his own clothing as the master was busy with his phone, the celestial's gaze already distant in the whirl of his own thoughts. There was no post-coital bashfulness now, if only because he was too busy trying to put the pieces together to remember to feel it. And besides, Roland was hardly leering from his bed at a bare and blushing slave like he had been once before. Vampires had always seemed unchangeable creatures in the angel's mind, living funerary monuments to their own sins, the triumph of ego that lived on long after the mortal body that had contained it was corrupted for good. It felt bizarre to recall that first version of Roland as Adrasia tried to contend with the one before him now. Then they were both clothed again, the slave staring at the back of that golden head as if he could intuit what was going on in Roland's mind if he only looked hard enough. It might be far more simple than he was first willing to believe. Far more human.

"I'll bid you goodnight then, councilman," Adrasia said softly before he left him, letting the matter and the strangeness lie -- at least for a little while. He would have more than enough time to try to make the pieces fit together from his bed in the Undercroft again.

END

Adrasia said he understood and it seemed he truly did, not that he was just saying it. Was the angel even capable of insincerity? It hadn't seem that way in all Roland's interactions with him. Perhaps that was why he'd been drawn into asking what he had, to sharing as much as he had because of that sincerity, that earnestness that seemed so much a part of the other man. It was dangerous, in a way, but Roland couldn't help but be grateful for it at the same time. It was rare that he opened up to people he wasn't already close to and it was only because Adrasia had caught him in such a vulnerable state...but still. It was different, even special, perhaps. Adrasia had understood on a deeper level, as well, what it was to be abandoned, he'd confirmed it. It was a link between them even if it was only shared pain. Or perhaps Roland was just so desperate for connection of any kind right now that he was grasping at straws. Still, what had happened here was hardly ordinary for him and when he had the energy, if ever he did again, he would have to think more carefully about that and what it meant.

The angel didn't argue when Roland said he should send him back, started to pull away and Roland closed his eyes but let him go, his hand sliding over his chest until Adrasia had pulled too far away and it fell to the bedding. He needed to get up and find his phone to summon the guards but he barely felt like he could sit up let alone do any of that, though he opened his eyes when the angel asked his question. Was he hesitant to go? Roland looked at him from where he lay for a long moment without answering then slowly did push himself up, moved across the small space between them slowly, cupped his face and kissed him one more time. It was slow, long and lingering, a sort of wordless farewell and maybe a last desperate bid for a moment longer of connection. He drew it out, holding him there gently before he finally pulled back and looked at him for a moment. "Just that." His lips quirked upwards in a ghost of a sad smile before he finally drew back, his hand falling away and forcing himself out of the bed, to the abandoned robe on the ground where he found his phone in the pocket. It only took a moment to send a message to one of the guards. "They'll be here in a few minutes." He didn't look at Adrasia as he spoke, having clawed back a little distance, a little numbness again as he pulled the robe back on slowly. Best to let him go. If he looked at him again he'd just keep him here and who knew what else he'd let slip out if that happened? No, Adrasia had done enough, had helped in all the ways he could, and it was best to leave it at that.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

rrarauhh these have been in my sketchbook for Literally Months; iwas gonna clean em up but if i donot post them as is they willnot be posted so ^_^ woe. funy realization designs be upon ye.

ecstasy, mimicry, and moonlight angies respectively; ft. roland cameo on the right. because Two Of Them :]

[ariveth]

Sweet Roland,

              Whispers around your college tell me you've been held up on some academic adventure, so it seems our reunion may have to wait a while longer than four days. There's a saying about absence and fondness that escapes me now. I've left you a gift I had intended to give you in person, though I hope you like it all the same despite its obvious age — I've read it many times over the years. I locked your door when I left, hopefully you don't fall prey to any other book thieves or I may become jealous.

I am returning to Dawnstar to deliver this fateful tome and will remain there a day before I depart to Morthal. (This is an unsubtle hint that you should write me back.) I don't care if it sounds ridiculous given our brief acquaintance, but you have been on my mind often since we parted, and it's left me with many questions since I don't know very much about you yet. Such as, to start: why a mage would leave High Rock and study in Skyrim, instead? It can't be for the climate, though feel free to prove me wrong.

I await you to indulge my curiosity with your (undoubtedly poetic) response.

- Ariveth

[Beneath the hastily-scrawled note on the endtable there's a book — a worn copy of Sermon 16 of The 36 Lessons of Vivec, within which the first inner page features the inscription: "For Roland", signed with a single daedric letter 'A' and a crimson-printed kiss upon the blank page.]

@eritvita

[doom-dreaming]

remember when i said i'd been thinking about a roleswap au. well ,

[adrasian]

closed starter for @councillor-roland

Adrasia felt the finality of the moment drop on his chest like a stone when the guards first approached him with purpose beyond herding. Oh, it was inevitable, but as he was prepared for his appointment, the celestial could not help but remember vividly the first night he had spent in a castle such as this. He had fought viciously then and bled for it, but before his feet had even touched Krovs' floor, he had known it would be different this time. It had to be, he reminded himself as he was marched out of the Undercroft, willing his hands to unwind from their clenched fists. His overseers would expect the opposite and any slight sign of rebellion on his part would be taken as a sign that his lesson had not yet been learned. How now to take this?

That was the question that circled through his mind, eyes blind to the finery he was marched past, the curious looks that marked his passing, ever closer to the master's chambers. Adrasia was no seducer, no good at playing doe-eyed either, by his own estimations. None of this to answer what this master would expect from his prey -- the name he had not yet been told, but councilman was omen enough. That thought brought another thrill of adrenaline with no place to go: Adrasia knew sadists, knew gloating egotists, exhibitionists whose greatest pleasure was the shame they assigned to their mess. There was no strategy to please all of them (as if he had once even tried). And which would he be?

One of the guardsmen jostled the celestial from his churning thoughts and Adrasia realized they had finally stopped. It had not been for rudeness's sake either, they were prompting him to knock. A helpless little laugh nearly escaped the celestial at this, quickly choked back. Stoicism, perhaps, was all he had left to grasp for. The night would pass, whatever it would be, and when it was over, he himself would still be the same.

A small consolation, but Adrasia took it and used its strength to raise his hand and rap twice on that fine door behind which the rest of the evening lay. So be it.

[gwyndolence]

Now there was no mistaking that Roland had been fooling around, Gwyn deeply satisfied by the visible trail of kisses his lipstick had left up his sire's neck. It was only temporary, but it scratched that itch to mark that healing always seemed to steal away the satisfaction of. Now Roland would have to fix his own makeup to get rid of him again. His smile was broad and delighted as Roland played along with what was really only a half-story, the sith knowing full well that there was more than enough hunger in the elder to justify that lothario label. He dug his fingers into Roland's costume as that hand snuck to the back of his neck, Gwyn's eyes shining with curiosity and excitement. "Nothing at all?" He echoed coyly.

Then there was a swoop in his stomach as Roland bent him back into the open air, the sith's legs squeezing tightly around the other's waist. A startled "-oh!" left Gwyn's lips at the sudden rush of adrenaline and the flush of pleasure at Roland's hips pressing into his own, the tingle that went over his skin at his sire's mouth against his throat. He let his head fall back entirely, basking in the feeling and Roland's attention for a moment, the bright lights of the village around them seeming to dance around his half-shut eyes in a colorful, dizzy sway. Then Roland rolled their hips together again and Gwyn moaned unabashedly into the cold, open air, one hand pulling recklessly at the back of his sire's jacket until he could get a hand at his skin, clutching to him as tightly as if there really was any danger of the sith meeting the cold ground below. "And wh-why should I endanger myself for the sake of your appetite, my noble lord?" Gwyn laughed even as he challenged him, pulling his head up again and pressing close enough to kiss, just barely restraining himself from following through. His voice dropped into a low whisper, Gwyn's lips brushing feather-like at the corner of Roland's mouth, "Why should I let myself be devoured by you?"

Roland loved hearing and feeling the effect he had on a partner and Gwyn was always good for that, from his little shivers to his sighs. It made it so much more fun to tease when he could pull out reactions like that. He only smirked more widely as Gwyn pulled him just that much closer, willing to give there and press his body as tightly against the sith's as his fledgling wanted. "Absolutely." Roland's eyes sparkled at Gwyn's pout. He would feed his ego as much as everyone around him allowed and Gwyn was clearly willing to indulge him. "Go ahead. I do so love hearing about myself." Roland purred right back and tilted his head for Gwyn's kisses. His fledgling certainly didn't disappoint, in actions or in words, and Roland didn't care if none of it was true he soaked up the idea of himself as the lothario Gwyn painted him as. It wasn't too far from the truth whether people talked about him like that or not. His hands slid around to Gwyn's lower back as he soaked up the words and kisses, fingers digging in a little and holding him tightly as he glanced down and caught Gwyn's eye again at the question. "Perhaps nothing for long." He mused, sliding one arm firmly around Gwyn's waist as the other hand trailed up his spine to cup the back of his neck. Roland pressed harder into him, forcing Gwyn to lean back slowly and perilously over the empty air yet cradling him firmly in his arms as if they were dancing and moving into a slow dip. "I'm as insatiable as they say I am." It was his turn for kisses again and he trailed a hot line of them down the column of Gwyn's throat. "But maybe you think you're up to the challenge?" Their hips were pressed so tight together that even the slightest rock of his hips ground their hard, clothed lengths together and he shivered, doing it again a little harder. It jeopardized Gwyn's balance on the banister but the thrill of danger in the position only added to the excitement for them both, Roland was sure.

[swingstep]

she said, "it just feels inhumane to lose this much." 'cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love.

[wildhawthorne]

how aurelius sees — roland

@councillor-roland

[trainingdummyrabbit]

🍽 i do Not go to projectmoon so i'll just say your favorite guy from it. peace and love

! HI HAII tysm for th enabling, bows so so deeply. peace adn love and sandwich <33

[gwyndolence]

"Well, none of those musicians had you for a teacher," Gwyn laughed, sinking down into the water to enjoy the warmth on his skin as Roland soaped himself up, "I imagine most of them wouldn't have survived the experience." The sith lingered that way, submerged nearly up to his chin with his eyes half-shut and a loose smile of satisfaction on his face, the tub more than large enough to accommodate both Gwyn's sprawl and Roland's washing. He didn't miss that Roland's mood had begun to fray further again, but the sith didn't want to interrupt him if he was actually making an effort to take care of himself and for a while it was pleasant enough to soak in the sounds of lapping water and the fresh scents of soap, Gwyn humming a quiet old tune as he watched his sire tend to their mess. Then, they traded places. Gwyn was tempted to make show of it as he normally would've done, teasing Roland out into a second round that would've forced them to have to bathe again in the end. But Roland looked exhausted as he slipped from the tub and so Gwyn aimed for speed rather than titillation, especially since the last round had already ended in a manner that was decidedly... fraught.

He had just finished when Roland made his little declaration, Gwyn standing from the water and giving his head a puppyish shake. "So early for bed. I feel I'm being mothered. Or is it the other way 'round?" He grinned, leaving the tub to drain as he padded over to where Roland was waiting, "Hold still." He reached up to Roland's damp hair, "Your ends start to curl up a bit left like this, you know? I like it." But that wasn't how Roland groomed himself, so Gwyn took hold of the lingering water in those golden strands, pulling it free with a quick flex of his magic and letting the gathered moisture fall to the floor along with the droplets still clinging to his own skin. He deemed them both suitable to clamber into Roland's fancy sheets with a quick assessing glance back in the mirror, all evidence of their tryst gone: no blood, no bruises, nothing of Roland's fangs in his throat. As if it had never happened. Gwyn managed to stifle a sigh at that, his disappointment somewhat mollified by Roland still asking for him anyways. "There." He gave his sire a small smile as he turned back to him, fluffing Roland's now-dry locks before he dropped his hands once more, "I won't leave," Gwyn promised with a quick wink while they were still close, voice low and affectionate, "There's not a single other bed here I'd rather be in tonight. Alright?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't really need one; it was Roland that craved reassurance right now. So Gwyn left the washroom as bare as he'd entered it, squeezing Roland's hand as he passed in making a beeline for the other's bed. He was still warm from that brief soak, Gwyn didn't want to waste that in strolling about bare skinned. It was a giddy thing to feel so needed, even if the circumstances were less than fortunate. But the sith had all the time in the world to get down to the bottom of things here -- such gloom couldn't last forever, in that he was determined. By the time Roland joined him, his fledgling had already made himself comfortable wrapped up in the elder's bedding, peering up at him from a tangle of sheets with a fond smile as Gwyn patted the space beside him. "C'mere, darling," And then, with an inescapable final bit of teasing, "You can even be the big spoon, if you'd like."

Roland smiled very faintly at the agreement and the way Gwyn scrunched his nose before his eyes were closed again and he was just letting Gwyn wash his hair. It was soothing in a strange sort of way. There was nothing sexual about it but it still felt intimate and...comforting, Roland supposed. It was a good idea to take a trip together, it would be fun and deeply distracting. Besides, they hadn't really gotten to spend time together just the two of them in quite some time. It would be a nice change and if this mood lasted and Rhys didn't return well maybe it would invigorate Roland.

As expected, Gwyn was happy to talk about the places they might visit and Roland let the sound of his voice distract him, though he did at least attempt to pay attention to all the words. He hummed occasionally in agreement or made a noise of disagreement but there were a few things he needed to address with words rather than just noises. "Agreed. Berlin is far more interesting. Of course we must do Paris, if only for a few days. Lugano sounds lovely but will the music be of any actual quality? There are some good musicians these days but they seem to be few and far between." Granted, Roland had fairly specific and exacting taste when it came to what he considered good music. He lifted his head when Gwyn had rinsed everything out and even opened his eyes again, turning to look at him. "We can make time for Marrakesh but of course I've been to Morocco." He gave him a strange look as if wondering why he'd had to ask. Sighing, he actually made a grab for the bar of soap and washed himself off now that his hair was done, somewhat less half hearted but still not very enthusiastically. He passed it off to Gwyn and just leaned against the tub, feeling strangely tired and still achey around the edges in spite of all of Gwyn's efforts.

"Come. Let's dry off and go to bed." Roland made the announcement heedless of whether he was interrupting Gwyn or not and for once there was no suggestive nature to the words. He legitimately did just want to go to bed and hold Gwyn and that was about it. Perhaps sleep would be a mercy. To that end, he hauled himself out of the bath and dried off, towelling his hair as best he could. He normally had a whole routine and used the blowdryer but he saw little point in it right now so made sure it wasn't sopping wet and slipped into one of the comfortable robes he kept in the bathroom once he was dry the rest of the way. He leaned against the vanity and waited for Gwyn to finish. "I just want to lie down with you for a while. You'll stay, won't you?" Granted, Gwyn didn't seem inclined to leave but Roland still didn't want to be alone. The question was more vulnerable than he would've liked but then Gwyn had seen him in a whole array of emotions over the course of the evening so it would hardly surprise him.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

saturday august 3rd jenga adventures at the guthrie from kiko laureano:

[ariveth]

continued from eritvita:

              FOR THE LONGEST TIME Ariveth just... kind of stands there, hands by her sides. Habit says this isn't a big deal, it was him or them, people die and life goes on. Besides, it was a cultist — even less reason to fret about it. Anyone else she would've patted on the shoulder then told them to get up and move on. But it's not just anyone else.

Roland's exhausted himself of tears and shock, and she suspects he's spiraling in a way she might've, once upon a time, younger and unaccustomed to a blade in her hand. Killing could become easy, or at least easier, but it's harrowing in the beginning. She's never liked seeing him sad, and certainly doesn't like seeing him so devastated; but words won't be sufficient this time. Worse, she worries that anything she'd have to say might sour the situation further. Comfort has never been her forte.

After a long bout of hesitation, she finally sinks onto her knees behind him, sitting high to wrap one arm over and one under each shoulder respectively, hands resting across his chest. Her face presses into the curve of his neck; silent.

It's not nearly enough, but it'll have to be for now.