[adrasian]

Rhys was very open now, wasn't he? Adrasia studied him pensively as he spoke, betraying nothing of the angel's immediate reactions to his words. Was it a ploy in its own right, a self-referential vomiting up of all his perceived sins to head off any accusations of willful blindness? Adrasia had heard many of those before. "You know yourself very well," He murmured finally, still holding Rhys' eyes for as long as the witch would lend them, his own soft and dark, "Or profess to. That's good. Many walk through their lives without a thought for the meaning behind their own actions." Their path had wound them past a small fountain and Adrasia let his steps slow to a stop, silent a moment to listen to the gentle music of water over stone. "Still, knowledge proves itself quite deficient without action to follow revelation."

His chin lifted at Rhys' weary laughter, his strange apology. Adrasia took a step away from the witch, letting his hand linger in the crook of Rhys' arm as he turned to face him. "I would not stop someone who clearly feels the need to speak. Contrary to what you claimed to me not so long ago." The angel tipped his head slightly, the faintest of smiles touching his lips for just a moment before it vanished again, "Knowledge of the self will also not save you from guilt. That is what you're enduring, is it not? Confession will not save you from it either, bereft of change. Either you will disavow yourself from this work one day or you will allow your morality to soften for the sake of your sanity. Or perhaps you will do neither and be overwhelmed by their clashing, eventually. I have seen this before many times." Not exclusively amongst mortals, either. But Adrasia didn't say that. He finally dropped his gaze from Rhys' face, looking to the fallen leaves spinning over the surface of the water like errant boats in the autumn breeze. He held no condemnation in his voice, merely quiet certainty. "I'm sure you think another would perpetuate worse cruelties in your position. You may even be right."

[rhysdasior]

“You got a surface-level rundown, don’t sound too proud of yourself just yet.” In spite of everything, the response was entirely good-natured, the flicker of Adra’s smile proving sufficient in pulling Rhys back entirely to the present and out of the fog of his ever-growing guilt. As the celestial continued, Rhys did his best to maintain an engaged front even if he knew already that he was selfish enough to have absolutely no intention of doing the right thing and walking away from the role any time soon. Even with the added pressures of running the coven back home simultaneously, Rhys loathed the idea of halving his workload. Adra was clearly speaking from experience and knew the various outcomes far better than Rhys did but such facts did little to sway the witch. 

As the celestial’s gaze broke away, Rhys’ shifted curiously to the night sky above them and he scanned the few faint constellations glimmering above them, a weighted sigh leaving him as he considered the vast expanse. “If I were to give it up, I’d hope for Seth to take my place,” stealing a glance towards the castle, a vaguely fond smile settled into place. “He’s more than capable. It’d be good for him. Then again, I’d hate to tether him to it. I take what liberties I can with it from time to time – small deviations from what’s expected or preferred by the council’s standards – little allowances they’d have to really focus on to notice. It’s not much, but it’s something, and if it means that it grants a reprieve for an individual or two for a few hours a week, it’s well worth the risk of eventually being pulled up on it.” Cutting his gaze back to Adra, Rhys studied him in interest. “Do you ever get this treatment in return? I mean, it’s in your nature to pry and assist, but does anyone ever grant you the same kindness in return? Not just here– in the past, also. It doesn’t seem fair for you to have to shoulder the burdens of others when you’ve likely got your own to bear.”

[councillor-roland]

closed starter for @rhysdasior

Rhys was being an excellent sport. Roland was well aware that parties and long social gatherings were not his beloved's particular cup of tea but the vampire couldn't help being excited about Halloween as it was their first chance to attend such an event together. His own foolishness had cost them last year and all the subsequent holiday events but they were solid now and so it was only fitting that they should go together in matching costumes. The witch had grumbled somewhat but Roland thought he might be secretly pleased in his own way about the costumes, extravagant as they were. Roland had dug out some of his old clothes from the 18th century (excellently well kept, of course) and had some of them tailored to fit Rhys. He'd even had some wigs as well which he was happy to provide in service of this.

It had taken them some time to get ready and Roland had fussed endlessly about the details but he was pleased with the results and how dashing he found Rhys in the clothes. "It suits you, cheri." He crooned, making a final adjustment to Rhys' wig before stepping back to admire the complete picture, smiling very fondly as he did so. He adored getting dressed up but again he and Rhys differed there, though the witch did dress well in every day life. "If only this party was a proper ball. I'd escort you down the grand staircase with all the pomp and circumstance we deserve." They would have to make do with strutting down the street, apparently. They'd made the wise decision to get ready at the house, which wasn't fully outfitted yet but had the benefit of being in Krovs and therefore only a short walk from where all the festivities were taking place. Satisfied, Roland offered Rhys his arm, grinning. "Shall we? You can pick where we start. I'm willing to sacrifice a grand entrance to let you ease in." Roland personally felt that was an enormous concession and hoped Rhys properly appreciated it.

[rhysdasior]

This was a disaster. Rhys had been counting down the days until the fateful evening itself with all the enthusiasm of a man on his way to the gallows. For Roland’s sake, he’d strove to make an effort with the illusion of pleased anticipation whenever the topic arose in conversation between them and when it’d come to Roland’s long-awaited fittings in advance, Rhys had employed the aid of an old vice or two in advance to make it through the afternoon with minimal complaint; sometimes sobriety wasn’t the answer and as far as Rhys was concerned, that wasn’t a step-back in his progress. 

When the night itself finally came, Rhys had locked up the office early to head home (it still felt surreal to call it as much) and begin the process of dolling himself up for far longer than he felt was necessary. It’d taken considerable work to get Roland to agree to three hours of his time instead of the entire evening, but even the compromise of three hours felt like far too long. With Roland wrapped up in his elation, Rhys was free to dress in relative peace and isolation. He’d stared down the laid out piece from the doorway as if it posed some sort of domestic terrorism threat, lingering a safe distance from it as he half-listened to Roland’s monolonging elsewhere in the house to keep himself tethered to the present. Eventually, he mustered up the strength to just get on with it and commit to the promise made and avoided his reflection until the final fastenings and wig were secured. Taking a deep breath, Rhys willed himself to face himself in the mirror and immediately barked a laugh at the sight of himself, twisting to check the sight from all angles. Three hours. It’s only three hours. An hour and a half in, you’ll only have an hour and a half to go. No matter how he tried to reassure himself, Rhys couldn’t take himself remotely seriously. Once his initial shock had subsided, he settled down to apply a little eyeliner the way he’d watched Corinne do, the familiar sense of her preternatural presence lingering between the realms growing stronger as he sat back to asses the symmetry and, as always, managing to soothe his rising nerves. 

Taking a deep breath, he mumbled his thanks to her and was seconds away from launching into an unflinching diatribe to her when Roland’s presence interrupted the plan and Rhys swallowed his venom in record time, shooting a sheepish smile his way instead. “I look ridiculous,” Rhys huffed, unmoved by the flattery and chivalry. “You’re so lucky I love you. Wouldn’t be caught dead in this get-up for anybody else.” The idea of this being a proper ball prompted an affectionately exasperated roll of the witch’s eyes and he bit back any further commentary on the idea, moving to press a brief kiss to Roland’s cheek to placate his yearning. For the first time since he entered the room, Rhys finally took in the sight of Roland in all his glamour as he offered an arm and made a quiet noise of appreciation, letting his lingering gaze do all the required talking for him. Even if this evening would be hellish, at least Roland would be pleasing to look at throughout it all. Taking the offered arm to immediately lean close, Rhys huffed a laugh at the monumental sacrifice Roland’s ego was willing to make for his sake and he moved to gently grasp Roland’s jaw to pull him into a kiss, slow and loving as he basked in their final few moments of privacy before being dragged out before the masses. Pulling away with considerable reluctance, Rhys mulled over the options available. “Haven’t looked into the finer details of anything. You pick. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get back, run a bath and read in bed before you’re home.”

[wildhawthorne-deactivated202412]

a real positive impact. such an understatement. "it's really been a blessing. nature just feels like home to me..." especially so after decades of imprisonment. the undercroft remaining as a nightmare from the past, as how he enjoyed his own room, his own job. it wasn't an easy task to do day by day, but it was much better than just devoting your existence to vampires who just craved your sex and blood. plants were much more forgiving. "rhys, so good to meet you." the handshake was firm yet friendly, rory letting go just to move towards the very vase his new acquaintance was eyeing. soon, it was just as full of roses and the ones to his right. "i suppose our very tasks have kept us apart - head of magic consultants does not sound as a very outdoorsy profession." there was a smirk on the halfling's lips, suggesting a laugh as he continued with his duties, not taking attention away from rhys as he continued listening to him. "that's most definitely part of the appeal. that sense of normalcy, a routine to follow. and even then, it's nature, thus it's chaos. there are always little surprises that come with the field that keep it fun. then you take into account the seasons changing, and you're never really bored - even if you wanted, there's no time for it." and as he monologued, he finally emptied his arms, all vases filled to the brim with blood red petals and greenery. "there we go..."

[rhysdasior]

The witch chuckled as he nodded his agreement. “It’s only outdoorsy when the council needs someone to toy with the weather conditions and that’s nowhere near as rejuvenating as your daily experience, trust me. If I were a gambling man, I’d confidently bet on you having the more refreshing role out of the two.” As the halfling went on, Rhys could only continue to agree with him; it was a pleasantly surprising delight to find another on such a similar wavelength. “I’m with you on the routine side of things. If I didn’t have a schedule to stick to, I think I’d cease to function properly.” Most of Rhys’ nearest and dearest took great joy in teasing Rhys for how dedicated he was to craving structure and order down to the finest point but as far as the witch was concerned, it was the only logical way to approach each new day. He regarded Rory fondly as he added the finishing touches to the final vase, admiring the display in its entirety with a polite round of applause. “Look at you go. Just like that, you’ve made this hallway at least seventy percent less depressing than it was before. You really should get a raise just for that.”

[councillor-roland]

Roland gave him a vaguely bemused look at the response. "Well of course it was a show. That's all you have to say about it?" He knew, of course, that Rhys wasn't nearly as interested in or appreciative of the opera as he was but he'd hoped that given how well it had been performed and how interesting the show itself was Rhys may have at least gotten some enjoyment out of it. His reluctance to elaborate seemed to point to the opposite, however. "I most certainly enjoyed it. The orchestra had a few little missteps early on but they recovered well and otherwise performed nearly flawlessly. And the soprano! I don't think I've heard such a clear voice in a long time." Aware that he could go on far too long, Roland cut himself off and noted Rhys' shifting. He was eager to move on, it seemed, which was somewhat disappointing but Roland wasn't about to let Rhys' lack of appreciation for musical mastery ruin the evening. "Of course, cheri. That sounds like a perfect follow up."

They managed to beat hedge around the vast majority of the crowd due to a little vampiric speed on Roland's part and left the opera house in good time. Given how impossible it was for Roland not to touch Rhys when he was with him, they walked with linked arms and Roland did end up still talking about the opera in spite of himself as Rhys lead them to the bar he knew. It turned out to be a little jazz bar and while it was certainly a change from the music they'd been listening to it was hardly an unwelcome one. Some jazz was discordant and chaotic but much of it had musical complexity that Roland couldn't help but appreciate. They got themselves a corner booth and ordered drinks, Roland settled with his arm around Rhys and smiling at him. "I promise I'll stop talking about the opera now. This is a lovely place. Did you used to come here often?" His smile widened at how much that sounded like a pick up line even though he hadn't meant it to. He was genuinely curious. Everything he could find out about Rhys he wanted to know, including his old haunts in London.

[rhysdasior]

“It was… good,” Rhys added simply, partly just to antagonise Roland further. “As far as live performances go, it was good. Not the sort of thing I’d see twice, but so long as you enjoyed it, that’s the main thing. My opinion doesn’t really matter.” And enjoyed it Roland had. The glowing review that followed brightened Rhys’ demeanour instantly as he listened in adoration, barely paying attention to what Roland was actually saying and focusing solely upon how radiant he looked whenever he discussed his passions. With Roland’s approval of both the performance and the plan to get out at the earliest possible point before the crowds made it nigh impossible, Rhys was all too happy to move onto the next stage of the evening. He listened to every word that left Roland as they navigated the bustling streets, nodding sporadically before interrupting him to point out the bar and shove through the milling crowds blocking the doorway with practiced ease.

Offering a bright grin and a wave to the bar staff, Rhys eagerly settled into their booth with a relieved sigh, slumping against Roland the moment they were left to their own devices once orders were placed. “You can talk about it all you like,” Rhys laughed, too adoring in his current state to mind. He hummed his agreement as Roland sang the bar’s praises and preened at his approval, angling his head up to return his smile. “Pretty often, yeah. Was always somewhere to come to to clear my head for a few hours, not think about the outside world and just focus on the energies in here. Always left feeling better than when I walked in.” Pausing, Rhys squirmed to sit up a little straighter but made no attempt to put any space between them, wholly content in staying as close to Roland as he could for as long as he could. “Corinne was the one to introduce me to this place. It’s always had a special place in my heart because of her. And now you, funnily enough. Who would’ve guessed?”

[witchysethharper]

"Yeah, that's why I have Circe to come home to," Seth snorted, rolling his eyes. He understood Rhys' good intentions here but his mentor also didn't fully grasp the concept behind his relationship with Shade. Ten years in hell for Seth, feelings changed, evolved. He'd changed somewhat too, more than just becoming a demon hybrid. "The sex is great, really gives me those happy chemicals floating around in my brain. Sure, he's a fun time but it's... everything else. He's irresponsible, immature, mostly unreliable, I don't believe a thing he says half the time. It's not sustainable for what you're suggesting I have." He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. "Appreciate what you're trying to do here, pops, but I'm fine without Shade like that. I need someone I can trust and doesn't have me thinking I'm batshit crazy all the time."

[rhysdasior]

Recognising when enough was enough, Rhys held his hands up in defeat and bowed his head in silent understanding. “So long as you’re doing what’s right for you, I’m not gonna complain. I’ll take you making rational, sensible decisions over settling for someone like him any day. You’re getting by okay too, right…?” Rhys drew the question out slowly, his gaze more prematurely concerned than judgemental. “I know we’ve never really sat down to talk about things and neither of us are the type to put things out in the open like that, but I worry about you.” Even if Seth was doing just fine, there would always be a small part of Rhys that was perpetually concerned for his well-being, never mind the fact that Seth was more than capable of handling himself. “You know you can always come to me about things, don’t you? Anything. Any time. I’ll always have nothing but time for you.” Forcing himself to shut up by taking another generous sip of his wine, Rhys toyed absently with the glass as he eyed Seth across the table. “Or you can tell me to shut up and stop fretting. Whatever works best for you.”

[buryyourboness-deactivated20260]

Holland’s ears twitched as Rhys spoke, and he let out a low, eager whine, watching Rhys move around the office with bright, intent eyes. His tail thumped against the floor, betraying his growing excitement as Rhys slipped off the blazer and transformed from "stuffy office Rhys" to the man Holland was starting to find a little easier to let his guard down around. With a soft huff, he gave Rhys a quick, appreciative nudge, his gaze warm as he watched him disappear into the adjoining room. When Rhys returned, Holland perked up, his eyes bright with expectation. He barked, short and quiet before setting back on his legs and leaping up, with a huff he leaned into Rhys’s arms, feeling the comforting press of his warm embrace. The familiar tension of teleportation sparked a slight flutter in his chest, but Rhys’s steady hold kept him calm. When they reappeared, Holland blinked, his paws sinking into the soft, open grass. A gentle breeze ruffled his fur, and he lifted his head, inhaling the scents of the garden with a long, slow breath.

The warmth of the sun filtering through the trees as Rhys parted the clouds brought a subtle wag to Holland’s tail. He let out a happy sigh, turning to Rhys with a grin that crinkled the edges of his eyes. This openness was something he rarely allowed himself, but with Rhys’s gentle encouragement and the expansive garden around them, he felt safe, almost unburdened. He crouched playfully, lowering his front paws with a wag of his tail, eyes sparking with anticipation. “Better?” Holland repeated with a soft bark, mirroring Rhys’s words as he rocked on his paws, already gearing up. His gaze darted toward the open stretch of grass before he looked back at Rhys, giving him an affectionate nudge to prod him along. He circled him playfully. "Much better," he affirmed, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "So—are you ready to lose?" With a quick wag of his tail, he crouched low, his stance daring Rhys to take him up on his challenge. "I might just surprise you, mon ami." With a glint in his eyes Holland pushed off the ground, grass tearing behind him as he propelled himself forward across the garden.

[rhysdasior]

The answering bark pried a laugh from the witch, his entire demeanour brightening further at Holland’s unbridled joy. Moments of genuine solace within the castle were few and far between most of the time, especially for those forced to dwell in the Undercroft. To bare witness to it in its purest form warmed Rhys’ heart in ways he’d recently doubted were possible as he’d let his mind and general overthinking get the better of him. Pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie past his elbows as Holland’s affectionate nudging brought him firmly back to the present, Rhys playfully pushed the shifter aside with another laugh. “All right, all right. I hear you, I hear you– easy now.” Any further commentary was rendered obsolete as Rhys was left standing in the wake of Holland’s enthusiasm. “I haven’t even warmed up yet!” Whether his voice actually carried, Rhys couldn’t be sure, but pleading his case was worth a shot at the very least. Still, he’d semi-promised Holland a race – there was no use in making excuses now. Tearing after the shifter, Rhys made no attempt to stifle the wave of pure, unadulterated joy that reverberated through him as he came to a halt beside Holland shortly after. “Head starts count as cheating, y’know. No fair.”

[masterxtiernan]

The pleasantries were just that.. pleasantries. He wasn't being at all genuine, and they both knew that. Tiernan watched Rhys for a moment as the witch relaxed, or tried to, and smiled when Rhys took him up on the offer of whisky. The ghoul nodded, moving towards the decanter filled with whisky, pouring out a glass for Rhys before heading back over and holding it out for the pretty witch to take. "That's because, Rhys, I have taste," he murmured with a smirk, taking a seat next to the other and turning slightly towards him. "But thank you," he added. After taking a sip out of his own glass, Tiernan took hold of Rhys' jaw, gently turning his face towards him. "Do you know why I asked you to come here this evening?"

[rhysdasior]

Taking the offered glass with an appreciative nod, Rhys took a tentative sip and fought to remain in place as Tiernan settled beside him despite the rapidly rising urge to put further space between them. It brought back far too many memories of enduring Bond Street’s tube station during rush hour; the proximity was far too close for any kind of comfort. Shoving the secondary urge to bristle aside as Tiernan caught his attention by force, Rhys levelled him with an unimpressed look before taking a moment to consider the question. It was a loaded one, that much went without saying. “You’ve already said so yourself,” Rhys replied a moment later, a faintly amused smile attempting to tug at the corners of his lips as he held Tiernan’s gaze. “You’ve got taste. Why else?”

[councillor-roland]

There was clearly more to this bedroom conversation than there appeared to be given how anxious it was making Rhys. The witch was trying to mask it but Roland's senses didn't lie and he was so attuned to Rhys when they were together that he noticed even the most subtle of changes. It was likely best to let Rhys come to it in his own way so Roland would just have to wait and see where it went. The vampire only slightly rolled his eyes at the mention of a guest bedroom for Seth. "I suppose that makes a certain kind of sense. If that's not up for debate then neither is leaving a spare room for Gwyn. I'm sure he'll make use of it." His youngest fledgling had had free access to every home Roland had owned since making him and he didn't intend to change that now. "Additions?" Roland tilted his head a little, curious. Was this the thing that was making Rhys so nervous? The vampire blinked at the information about Rhys actually wanting to claim a slave. It made sense, of course, that he'd be doing it for altruistic reasons rather than for what slaves normally were claimed for. "Yearning for a pet, are you?" Roland teased, though that was clearly not what Rhys really had in mind. "I don't see any problem with that. In fact, while we're on the subject, I've taken quite a liking to the celestial down there, Adrasia. Not for here, of course, and not for quite such wholesome reasons as you have for making a claim but would that bother you? If I plucked him out of the Undercroft and gave him a room in my suite?" It seemed as good a time to ask as any even if Rhys was clearly still nervous. So it wasn't his desire to claim Holland that was doing it, then. What was it?

Even when Rhys came out and said it, in his somewhat roundabout way, Roland didn't at first completely grasp what he meant. A little one? What could that possibly mean? Was he talking about another pet? There was no reason to be so nervous about that given Roland's rather immediate acceptance of the Holland thing so then...? But then, finally, Roland thought he might understand though it had taken him so long to get there because it wasn't something he'd ever once considered himself in his 1100 years and therefore it was never on his mind. His eyes widened a little, hopefully not with as much horror and trepidation as the idea actually filled him with. Best to clarify first before truly reacting. "A...child? Are you talking about a child?" Roland certainly hoped that wasn't what Rhys was talking about but he tried to keep his voice at the very least neutral and thought he did a fairly decent job of it.

Thankfully, there was something else to discuss in a more normal manner as he waited for clarification and his eyebrows went up. "Infect the house? I'd rather have that kind of supposed infection than whatever minimalist nonsense you'd try to fill it up with. My suite is quite inhabitable, non? You've practically moved in so even if you profess to disagree now your actions contradict you. I'll make sure this house is just as inhabitable I assure you but with the appropriate amount of panache and style." He sensed there would be a lot of agreeing to disagree and dreaded compromise when it came time to actually decorate. The fact that they would even be arguing about a place that was soon to be theirs, however, was a heartwarming thought and meant Roland couldn't get too cross about it. He couldn't be with Rhys kissing his jaw anyway or hearing his laugh. "All right." He agreed to meet out front and kissed him back, eagerly and easily, though there was a shadow in the back of his mind about the whole child issue.

While Rhys sorted everything out, Roland did zip upstairs just to see the second floor, trying not to have too many feelings about something that hadn't even been clarified yet. He finished before Rhys did and waited outside for him, smiling just to see how excited the witch was when he emerged and allowed himself to be lead back to the car, chuckling fondly at the excited words. "Oh, you have some furniture already, do you? Wouldn't Corinne's tastes align more with mine than yours?" It was another tease but he couldn't seem to help themselves, slowing and coming to a stop near the car. He didn't say why but he did want to settle that whole issue they'd left somewhat hanging before heading back to the castle itself.

[rhysdasior]

Rhys grimaced a forced smile through Roland’s teasing, too touched by his innocent attempts to keep things light when Rhys undoubtedly seemed as if he was having some kind of anxiety-driven episode out in public. The momentary shift of focus to Roland’s desire to claim Adrasia for himself provided a refreshing moment of clarity, waking Rhys from the stupor of his concerns to concentrate on such a decision. “It’s your call,” the witch’s tone was diplomatic and accompanied with a one-shouldered shrug of indifference. “Your money, your suite, your choice.” Whilst it was arguably sweet of Roland to take his feelings on the matter into consideration, Rhys’ mind was too narrowed into one-track thinking that only blunt honesty seemed to leave him. 

Once the truth was finally out in the open, Rhys instinctively bristled, casting his gaze aside to avoid witnessing Roland’s immediate reaction. After a beat, he willed himself to look back and finally offer a nod of confirmation. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Obviously I wouldn’t bring a kid here– I’d wait ‘til they were in their twenties at least before letting them know about spare accommodation here, but…” Rhys’ voice trailed off once he realised he’d been rambling again. “That’s the heart of it, yeah.”

Rhys pursed his lips into a disapproving pout as Roland had the audacity to continue to assume he’d have any kind of major say in the interior design plans for the place. He knew better than to interject, too amused despite his prior anxieties to cut Roland’s verbal peacocking short. “I’ll be overseeing all that. You don’t have to worry yourself over it. Let me take care of me and my own. I can handle it just fine.” It was inevitable that he’d crack sooner or later and Roland’s input and influence would indeed infect the house but Rhys couldn’t complain. Part of what endeared him to Roland was how infuriatingly endearing his eccentricities and stark differences were. By some miracle, Roland actually listened to suggestion and Rhys hurried through the motions to be back by his side in record time, too agitated from the baby-shaped bombshell that remained to be properly discussed. 

As he led them back to the car, he managed to muster up an almost lighthearted chuckle at Roland’s continued teasing, an affectionate roll of his eyes following suit as he moved to settle back against the car, watching Roland carefully as he tried to find the right words. “I didn’t say everything. Just a few things. Never said the woman couldn’t be gaudy from time to time and it’s not character assassination if it’s true.” Shooting Roland a playful grin to prove he was only teasing and not genuinely insulting Corinne for no good reason, Rhys took advantage of the lighthearted moment to address the elephant in the room. “How’re you feeling about it all? All of it; the place, what we’ve talked about…?”

[adrasian]

Adrasia merely listened as Rhys laid out his experience, trusting the witch to direct their steps as his eyes lingered on the other man's face. Learning to navigate conversation without empathy had made the celestial's gaze a rather heavy one, always seeking out those subtle signs of a person's true feelings with mundane sight to make up for the suppression of divine senses. The behavior may have stemmed from a desire for understanding, but that hardly made Adrasia's stare any less piercing, especially given the subject matter. "Four years... that is a weighty role." Hardly one of the poor souls scrubbing the masters' suites clean. "The length of our tenure is nearly the same."

The celestial watched Rhys' gaze roam away over the gardens and the slow creep of disquiet across the witch's face. Rhys' conscience was far from clear, that much was obvious. Adrasia recognized it with some steeliness and only the smallest flickering of sympathy -- he had learned in these strange first months at Krovs just how winding a road one could walk to become a member of the staff there. Some reasons were more complex than others, but Rhys' position was hardly one a soul could be easy blackmailed into. He answered the witch's tentative smile with cool neutrality, the subtlest upward quirk of his brows. His silence seemed to encourage Rhys' words, a small flood of them, infused with shameful self-awareness. That was another strange thing about mortals: such an emotion almost always spurred action in the celestial, yet time and time again he had watched the people of this realm tear themselves to pieces over behaviors they would not change. Why did they do it? Why wallow in rightful guilt rather than do what was necessary to erase it?

Adrasia felt no closer to answering that question now as Rhys laid out his sins for him, or at least the most pressing of them. He followed the witch's unthinking motions, the cigarette stub, the hands rifling in pockets, the steadiness of Rhys' words regardless of their contents. Four years was a long time to grow used to a sin, even if you remained clear-eyed enough to name it. Adrasia nodded, pensive, then cut through to the core of the issue, as level as before: "Why did you take the job then, knowing what it would entail? Why remain?"

[rhysdasior]

“I’m my mother’s son,” Rhys answered, ducking his head and averting his gaze with a humourless laugh. “That means two things; one, it means I’m every part as susceptible to a witch’s natural inclination to always strive for more when it comes to developing and mastering our magic. This position allowed that whilst simultaneously acting as a good addition to the ol’ CV. Two, it meant this – at the time – was a way to get out from under her watch. I’d planned to take up the position a few years before, but my grandmother knocked some sense into me and made sure I had a firmer hold on both myself and my magic.” For a moment, a fond smile settled on Rhys’ features as the mere mention of his grandmother was enough to bring Corinne’s ear-tugging and affectionate lecturing back to the forefront of his mind, the comforting familiarity almost enough to numb the ache of his guilt before he met Adrasia’s gaze again and the reverie shattered to bring him back to the grim reality. “I’ll admit, I was willingly naive. I didn’t look into what the position would entail fully prior to applying, didn’t think to question it during the… interview process. If I can call it that. By the time the job was mine and I’d actually taken the time to digest what was to be expected of me…” a sheepish smile blossomed across the witch’s face and he cleared his throat as he scanned their surroundings. “Well, my ego’s never been good at taking hits. My pride wouldn’t let me tap out. It would’ve meant proving my parents right – neither of them thought I’d be capable. Throwing in the towel so soon would’ve put me back at square one, stuck in London waiting for the day my mother decided to abdicate as High Priestess.” 

Forcing himself to hold Adrasia’s gaze, Rhys searched for the right words as he considered the remainder of the celestial’s questioning. “It’s selfish, I know. As are my reasons for remaining. During my years here, I’ve made bonds that mean more to me than my remaining family back home. I’ve got loved ones here now and others in the Undercroft that I’m hoping to buy freedom for when the time’s right.” It was easy to say the more socially acceptable words. It was also easier to swallow the unspoken admission that the paycheque and the prestige that came with the position still held importance regardless of his birthright and trust funds, no matter how morally reprehensible he felt for acknowledging such a fact. “I don’t have any justification for my behaviour. I could walk away at any point and I choose not to because, selfishly, I’ve got something good going on here and don’t want to put a stop to it. I’ll face the consequences of my actions one day, no doubt about it.” Finally pausing, Rhys took a deep breath and raised his brow at Adrasia with a sigh of laughter. “Feel free to tell me to shut up at any point now. Sorry, I’ve barely let you get a word in edgeways.”

[masterxtiernan]

The ghoul wasn't at all stupid, he knew that Rhys did not want to be there, which is why Tiernan had invited him in the first place. He knew that the witch wouldn't -- couldn't -- refuse him. Of course, if Tiernan did anything to harm the witch, he would likely endure Roland's endless bitching. He wasn't sure it was entirely worth it, but the ghoul was always one to see where his mood took him.

He wasn't surprised that Rhys refused food, even if he hadn't actually eaten anything. Oh well, the witch's wellbeing wasn't any concern of his, Tiernan was just being somewhat polite. "Your loss," he chuckled softly, noticing the way Rhys followed him into the lounge without question. He was obedient, which was good. Perhaps he would have more fun than initially anticipated. "Oh, I'm very generous," he teased in return, gesturing to the sofa. "Sit. Like I said, make yourself comfortable. Drink? Something strong?" Tiernan asked, gesturing to his own whisky. "You've had a.. long day. I imagine you need something to take the edge off," he added, giving Rhys a little grin, his fangs peaking through ever so slightly.

[rhysdasior]

His better judgement demanded Rhys answer with a resounding no. Instead, Rhys gave Tiernan an appreciative smile as he settled on the couch, shrugging his blazer off to chuck it over the back as he fiddled with Roland’s cufflinks to loosen them, handling them with the utmost care as he tucked them away for safekeeping and rolled up his shirt sleeves past his elbows, one hand moving to loosen the knot of his tie with a relieved sigh. “If you’ve got any whisky spare, I’m not gonna say no.” Whatever Tiernan had in mind, approaching it with the assistance of slight inebriation would at least make it semi-bearable. Realising his lack of manners a touch too late, Rhys encouraged his smile to shift to something vaguely apologetic. “Thank you, by the way. Appreciate it.” Tearing his gaze from the tips of Tiernan’s fangs to assess the interior design, Rhys made a conscious effort to keep his expression neutral. “Nice place you’ve got here, Tiernan. I almost expected something a little more… gauche. Maybe that’s exclusive to Roland, though.”

[kellbishop]

Kell was typically very careful about how he talked about the council. While they probably paid very little attention to whatever a slave might spout off about them, he'd learned over the years that it was better to be safe than sorry. Given that Rhys didn't seem to be overly fond of them at the moment, however, Kell wasn't feeling too worried. His grin settled into a small smile at the words and the human shot the witch a teasing look. "So you have no ulterior motives for possibly getting me drunk? Noted." He chuckled, resting back against the booth. "I could definitely use another drink."

[rhysdasior]

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in this place is a scumbag, just a solid ninety per cent.” With a playful wink, Rhys flashed Kell a grin as he grabbed both their empty glasses before manoeuvring his way out of the booth as gracefully as one could given the limited space, heading to the bar to fetch another round of a much-needed balm for them both. Nothing united two souls better than a mutual dislike and as it stood, the two of them harboured enough resentment for various members of the council to forge a decent bond. The witch returned in the blink of an eye, setting Kell’s beer before him with a flourish, settling back into place with a sigh of relief as he swirled his wine absently, watching it for a moment before returning his attention to Kell with a warm smile. “I imagine you’ve been propositioned enough for one lifetime already. Believe me, I’m not trying to put you through any more hellish experiences than you’ve already endured. Consider this a night off from all that. In the nicest way possible, you could probably do with it. Halloran can wait. This takes priority.”

[councillor-roland]

The longer they stayed here and the happier Rhys seemed with the house the easier it was to start picturing their life in it. Roland imagined they'd bicker over decor but eventually settle on some kind of happy medium, or reserve a few rooms for each of their particular tastes and compromise on the rest. He transposed their quiet nights at his suite into this house, warmed by the thought that this space would be theirs and theirs alone, no walls shared with anyone else, no possible interference from others. They would be able to do exactly as they pleased with no possibility of being overheard and the thought, along with Rhys' hum of approval, delighted him more and more.

Roland returned from his pleasant daydreams as Rhys spoke again, rubbing his back absently but looking at him in mild puzzlement at the somewhat halting assertion that all the bedrooms should remain as such. "Why would they all be needed? Are you planning on quartering political delegations here?" It was a light tease, somewhat bemused by the slightly awkward statement but mostly just mildly curious as to why it mattered. Unless they were planning on having many guests Roland didn't see the need. "Oh, I only get a little music room, do I?" His tone remained teasing even as his eyebrows went up slightly. "You never know, you may decide to host a grand dinner party with all the people we're apparently going to have here. We wouldn't want to get rid of it in that case." He absently stroked Rhys' back with one hand as the witch brushed off the need to see the second floor and apparently made his decision right there. Roland chuckled. "Decided already? I must say I admire the impulsiveness. I'm always happy to stand and look pretty though I do that without even trying." He smiled at his own arrogance and toyed with Rhys' hair as he leaned in and kissed him lightly. "But of course, you clearly love it so it only makes sense to get it all squared away. I'll take a glance upstairs while you do just to satisfy my own curiosity."

[rhysdasior]

Rhys cut his gaze away at the dreaded bedroom-related discussion, anxiously worrying at his lower lip as he weighed up the options of biting the bullet and addressing what had been gathering momentum in his mind ever since his reprieve in Mayfair or shutting it down entirely and going along with the joke to keep his wish hidden for another few years. Having spent days on end with the youngest members of the coven whilst back home hadn’t helped Rhys’ building need, only serving to nurture it further. In the quiet dark of the nights upon his return, the fantasy of such a future had featured at the very forefront of his mind, heightened by the added comfort of Roland’s arms around him once they’d worked through their most recent disagreement. Glancing back at Roland, Rhys tried for a reassuring smile, not wholly convinced it would work quite as well as he wanted it to. “I mean… Seth will need a room of his own in case of emergency, so one of them is automatically his– that’s not up for debate, for the record. But also, wouldn’t it be wise to leave one free for… other additions? Potentially?” Rhys’ expression was instantly sheepish as the questions left him, the hesitation present in his tone doing a wonderful job of hiding just how anxious actually discussing the matter made him. “I’ve got my eye on Holland. Not for anything… sordid. Just to get him out of there. Poor kid deserves a chance at a proper life, a real life. He’s still wet behind the ears, for God’s sake.” He was so close to getting to the point, yet getting the words out felt nigh impossible. 

He leaned closer against Roland with a frustrated huff at his inability to just say it. “…I’ve also… been thinking about things a little. ...Could always be an idea to leave a room spare for a little one – or a not so little one if they’re gonna be here – in time.” Not that Rhys would ever dream of bringing a child anywhere near the castle, but to give them a space of their own in every one of Rhys’ most commonly visited residences didn’t seem too outlandish a suggestion for when they were of age to make their own decisions and fatherly guidance wouldn’t hold quite as much weight. Now that it was out in the open, Rhys was hit with the overwhelming urge to take it back and play it off as a joke to save himself the embarrassment of having to be so open about such a vulnerable and delicate topic. His yearning for fatherhood was one of his worst kept secrets – his unofficial adoption of Seth and planned purchasing of Holland further down the line were evidence of such a fact, but the need to have a biological child of his own remained. Intensely so. It wasn’t just an emotional desire, it was a necessity when it came to the inevitable topic of succession and inheritance of the coven. Rhys wouldn’t be around forever, he didn’t have the privilege of immortality like so many others in and around Krovs, so these kinds of matters needed to be straightened out in advance. “…Just a thought. Nothing concrete.”

Rhys huffed a laugh despite the lingering nausea that always accompanied any admission of vulnerability or desire and he jostled Roland playfully with a roll of his eyes. “We’ll iron out the finer details once I've got the keys. For now, yeah, I’m starting you off small with a music room. I know what your interior design choices are like. I’m not having that infect the house throughout. I want this place inhabitable, Ro.” His nerves settled slightly thanks to Roland’s ever-tactile approach and he angled his head to press a brief kiss to the vampire’s jaw again, the realisation that this was happening, that this was the first step towards building a home of their own together properly dawned on him and envoked a fresh wave of adoration for Roland and the future of their relationship to wash over him, eradicating the earlier bout of nausea effortlessly. As always, Roland’s arrogance pulled a bright laugh from the witch and Rhys chose to rise above it, instead focusing his attention on enjoying the kiss while it lasted, simply pleased to have Roland’s affection regardless of the form it came in. “‘Kay. I’ll meet you out front, yeah?” Stealing one more kiss from him, deeper and longer than the last, Rhys reluctantly prised himself away from Roland’s hold to seek out the realtor, sparing a final adoring glance at his beloved over his shoulder with a loving smile before he coaxed rational thinking back to the forefront of his mind.

Tying up the loose ends didn’t take long. Rhys was all too happy to pay the deposit there and then, handing over the cheque without a flicker of hesitation once all the necessary admin was handled. With everything else emailed to him for his perusal later on, Rhys politely bid the realtor adieu and headed out with a notable skip in his step, his smile nothing but fond as he laid eyes upon Roland again. “The keys will be handed over in a couple of days,” hooking an arm around Roland’s, Rhys leaned against him as he led them back towards the car as he chatted excitedly. “I’ll talk to Arlo tonight about getting things sent over from Corinne’s place. I doubt she’ll haunt me over it. It’s not like she’s using any of it. She should just be grateful I didn’t shove half of it in storage.”

[gwyndolence]

"I think I can find out." Gwyn grinned back, all the more encouraged by the way Rhys' eyes roamed as the witch gazed at him, "In fact, I think you've already told me..." Certainly, Rhys' actions had spoken for themselves, not the ones of a man that was eager to be in charge. From that alone, Gwyn was not at all surprised by Rhys' choice when the other finally made it (couched, of course, in the language of allowing the sith to amuse him), Gwyn's eyes lighting up even as his expression settled into something more purposefully composed. For a long moment, he only pressed his cheek comfortably into Rhys' touch, considering the witch's handsome face with the smallest of smiles on his own as he let the anticipation linger. "As you wish, then."

Gwyn gave him one more tender kiss as he slipped back out of Rhys' lap, grabbing the other by the front of his suit jacket and pulling Rhys forward to the edge of his seat with an effortlessness that implied the sith's true strength before their lips separated again. "I think you're not a very patient man, are you, Rhys?" The words were soft, a little teasing as he nudged the witch's thighs further apart, standing comfortably between them. His hands went to Rhys' trousers then, curls brushing the other's cheek as he unfastened them and slid a hand inside. "Why don't we work on that first?" It took only a few deft movements to slip Rhys' length free from his clothing, Gwyn making a low noise of appreciation at the heat of him finally in his hand before he took his touch away entirely and stood upright between Rhys' legs to admire the view.

Gwyn plucked up the still-smoldering cigarette he'd abandoned to the astray as he fed, taking a long drag as his gaze dragged languidly up from Rhys' lap and the inviting jut of his cock, to his half-opened shirt, his upturned face. Delicious. "Here's what's going to happen, my lovely," He took the witch's chin in the other hand, tone conversational and light, Rhys having to crane his neck quite a bit at so intimate an angle, "I'm going to fuck this pretty mouth of yours, since you seem disinterested in using it for other things." Rhys had already undone Gwyn's trousers for him, bless him, making it all the easier for Gwyn to slide them down one-handed over his hips as he spoke, "Then I'm going to put you on your stomach right here," His boot tapped against the floor, "And see how many fingers I can fit inside you before you make a mess of your fancy carpet. Does that sound reasonable, Mr. Dasior?"

[rhysdasior]

Though it likely would’ve been far more professional to keep an eye on the time and make sure he’d have adequate time to prepare both the office and himself for the first consultation of the morning, Rhys’ attention remained entirely focused on Gwyn and whatever plan the sith had hidden up his sleeve. There was, of course, always the option of sneaking a peek with a little underhanded use of his divination through subtle mind reading but then again, he saw no reason to ruin the fun of the surprise. For now, he was content in trusting Gwyn and whatever harebrained scheme he’d managed to concoct. 

The tenderness of the parting kiss lulled him into a false sense of security momentarily and Rhys barely managed to repress the sound of surprise that threatened to escape him as Gwyn tugged him further forward without even a hint of effort required. The display of strength alone was enough to cause Rhys’ heartbeat to quicken in anticipation, his gaze transfixed on the sith’s own as they separated. He fought the urge to laugh at the question, forcing his amusement down as he offered a one-shouldered shrug in response. It was all too tempting to bite back with something sarcastic to deflect from the truth of the matter but Gwyn didn’t allow any time for it, his wandering hands proving sufficient enough to drain Rhys’ rational thinking of its reserves in record time. Of course, the sith’s touch was far too fleeting and by the time it’d registered through his daze, it had already been withdrawn. Inhaling slowly, Rhys forced himself to focus and remain grounded in the present, watching every movement made by the sith as if his life depended on it.

Even if Roland had never been shy with his tactile approach and endless supply of honeyed words, finding himself so exposed before someone other than Belgium’s councilman still felt like an alien experience for Rhys and he fought the urge to cover himself to seek some form of decency despite it all. Flashing a languid smile up at the sith as he explained his grand plan, Rhys hummed his agreement as he dropped his gaze to admire the newly exposed flesh, his smile widening as he dragged his gaze back up to meet Gwyn’s own, just in time to settle into the sith’s touch as he listened closely. Almost instantly, Rhys’ breathing hitched sharply once again as the details were laid out. Whilst he’d expected something of such a nature, actually hearing it was another matter entirely. Tentatively, Rhys reached out to gently rest his hands on Gwyn’s hips, stroking small circles against the jut of his hipbones with a surprisingly smug smile. “Perfectly reasonable, Mr. Caolán. One small request though…” biting back a misplaced laugh, Rhys tried to think of the politest way to formulate the request. “No honorifics are needed. Sounds like you’re addressing my father.”

[johnlockdynamic]

same frames, different lenses

[geryone]

Beautiful in the Mouth, Keetje Kuipers

[dmitri-shenker]

Dmitri struggled to follow Rhys's motion about the office. His vision was already blurred, the movement of his eyes, his neck, slow. It was vertigo-inducing and Dmitri had to shut his eyes, focus on his breathing, to keep the nausea at bay. Visibly, he was paler than usual, mottled with bruises. There were a few new scars. A crack in his hairline, a pink line pulling down from his lip where it had been split with a knife. The werewolf healing had patched it up quickly, but with speed sometimes there was inelegance. He was sure that whichever doctor they sent him to see would do away with them. They'd kept him alive because he was pretty - they would want to keep it that way.

"You threaten me like one of them?" All Dmitri heard in Rhys's words were the threats. He knew Dmitri's fears, was jamming his fingers into them. Dmitri could only respond in kind. "You worse than your mother. She never say do what I want or I let them rape you. I stupid for thinking you good man all these years. You make yourself very clear." Perhaps it was an unkind interpretation, but it was the only one Dmitri could find in that moment. With all the force he could muster, Dmitri spat at Rhys's feet. "You'd make good vampire."

[rhysdasior]

“Half-threatening, half–trying to get you to understand the gravity of your situation,” Rhys’ tone was uncharacteristically flippant, his irritation rising to a point of indifference. No matter the venom spewed back and forth between them, Rhys forced himself to consider Dmitri’s side of things. He hadn’t endured the brutality the werewitch had, hadn’t been drugged and dragged through the castle only to be brought to his collaring – approaching the issue with anger wasn’t the way to handle things even if it was what came naturally given the magnitude of Dmitri’s fuck up. “As for Charlotte’s warnings, it’s not far off. Don’t act like you knew what she was really like behind closed doors. You don’t know the half of it – she made sure of that.” Rhys knew all too well that he possessed his mother’s malice even if the thought turned his stomach and though Dmitri’s assessment harboured more truth than Rhys was comfortable admitting, it never felt good to know that so much of her still remained in him. 

Heaving another weighted sigh, Rhys ran a hand down his face and forced himself to count down slowly from ten in his mind to calm himself before rounding Dmitri to stand before him again, crouching before him to gently reach out to cup his jaw, the movement slow so as not to spook him in his current state. With a little focus, Rhys’ healing magic flowed into the werewitch to take care of the worst of the injuries and intoxication from god knows what they’d pumped him full of to try and subdue him. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Rhys muttered, his gaze disapproving despite the affection evident in his tone. “I’m gonna keep you here with me for a few hours, let you rest up a little. I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on – you okay with me tending to that for a bit?”

[gwyndolence]

Though his mind still hummed with the pleasure of satiation and the lure of his own lust, Gwyn's focused had sharpened heavily now with those little noises he was prying from Rhys and the darling, vexed expression on the witch's handsome face. He would've capitulated in an instant if Rhys had just asked, slid to his knees and had his mouth on him without a second thought, but the witch had shown just enough of a soft spot beneath his spikey words that Gwyn couldn't help but pry into it. He could feel Rhys magic whispering through his own veins, a light and giddy sensation, and in response to Rhys' goading the sith only laughed and retracted his questing hand, grinning crookedly down at the other man as he took Rhys' face in both. "That isn't what I asked, my darling. Don't you want to give me a real answer?" The words were practically cooed, Gwyn's weight shifting back just enough to deny Rhys the friction they both wanted. "I'll make a deal with you, hm? Two choices, your freely to decide."

One hand dropped low to trace his fingers around the imprint of his teeth at Rhys' throat, "Tell me explicitly what you want, pretty thing. Or else you can give me full permission to decide what that is for you." Perhaps a shaky game to play with one Gwyn was only so recently acquainted with, but he was morbidly curious to see what Rhys would choose, to see if his growing suspicions about the other were true. He dropped a feathery kiss against Rhys' cheek, then pulled back far enough that he could watch the other reactions to the sith's proposal without any distractions. Gwyn's eyes were aglow with hungry anticipation even as his voice stayed level and playful as he delivered the final blow, "If you choose the second one, know that that the consequences of that decision might not end after we leave this room."

[rhysdasior]

Making a deal with a faerie of any kind was a risky decision; such a fact had been drummed into him since he was old enough to comprehend such a fact, yet it did little to lessen the inherent allure of the offer. He huffed a sigh, rolling his eyes in half-serious petulance as he held Gwyn’s gaze. Of course one of Roland’s fledglings was almost just as maddening to deal with as the vampire himself; Rhys really couldn’t be surprised by such a revelation. 

Despite the aforementioned warnings he’d heard time and time again, Rhys’ expression flickered to one of curiosity as Gwyn went on to elaborate, his breath hitching as the sith’s touch skirted around the marred flesh, still tender from the relentless attention lavished upon it. In the back of his mind, there remained the faint tugging of guilt for indulging without informing Roland beforehand – they’d never really discussed the perimeters of their relationship explicitly but given that Roland had essentially fucked the entire undercroft at this point, Rhys could dismiss his concerns rather easily, all things considered. The witch chuckled softly at the kiss, momentarily taken aback by it as it brought him firmly back to the present. 

The sith’s final addition piqued Rhys’ intrigue further, prompting a contemplative hum as he considered the options available. Despite the very real possibility that he could come to regret the decision further down the line, Rhys couldn’t bring himself to be overly concerned with hypotheticals in the heat of the moment. “And you think you know what I want?” Rhys grinned at the assumption, a light laugh leaving him as he moved a hand to cup Gwyn’s jaw affectionately, stroking his cheek with his thumb as he scanned his gaze over the sith’s features in muted admiration. “Go on, then. Surprise me. Let’s see if you know as much as you think you do.”