#loveks

[legsandhighheelspumps]

[sunlessea]

what solemn reverence, to love a man whom has already been marked as dead by the very world they live in. the city itself could weep for him, even here, leagues 'neath the surface, with one of its very own masters knelt 'pon its knees to regard him. the irony is not lost 'pon him, where none have likely been treated so royal since london's fall, and now, here he is, their phantom prince ... he has angled himself in his chair to better accommodate nests itself, only twisting away from it above his hips for the occasional stroke of a brush along a canvas quickly growing colorful. only every so often will a drop of paint fall onto his gown, or if he's egregiously off base, then onto the fabrics of its cloaks discarded.

not quite a beast, nosferatu. no angel, either. it is not what he'd prayed for so long ago, but how soft even its mangled lips feel along his ghoulish skin are everything and a mite more in that regard. he shivers instinctively, each time it presses kiss to a spot of some delicacy, sensitive in the most mundane of places : at the side of his knee, or the insides of his thighs. they part for it to draw closer, and the gesture is rather sweet, he thinks, despite how it may have seemed from afar. it's had to bunch up his gown to reach so high, but the way its claws dig soft into his skin is tender, and distractingly romantic.

he hums as he pauses another stroke of the brush, shiver 'long his spine as its lips tickle yet another space of skin that sends a tremble through his body. his chest aches, as it always does, to be touched by it. for as impolite as it often played itself, its claws are always so kind to him. he turns 'way from the painting to stare down at it, suspicious it may be vying for his attention. with the brush rested 'pon his easel, he scoots forward towards the edge of his seat and reaches out to slide his fingers through the mangled fur 'pon both its ears. they aren't soft at all, but they are comforting. "i love you, my lord."

@londonfallen / mr nests

[adenial]

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

[blaackbiird-archive]

myeheheheheheh

@adenial

[aetheryic]

stares down at alisaie for a very very long time, before bending down and pinching her cheeks. cute.

she allows this ! her own bright blue eyes settle upon lovek with a curious expression, nose scrunching up once her cheeks were pinched. ' hey ... what did i do ? '

[adenial-a]

nothing is more exciting and wholesome than violence against solus.

[charmingbrute]

[tsckcyomi-archived]

drapes himself across the chifon couch all dramatically, "ohhh im just a poor useless little bottom, woe is meeee, i need a strong top to carry my delicate feelings."

@adenial

An amused smile tugs at the corner of her lips as Yotsuyu watches the Viera sink onto the couch and announcing his woes. How dramatic. She takes one last drag from her smoking pipe ere setting it to the side, getting to her feet so she can saunter over to the couch Lovek has draped himself across.

"So you do, hm?" A purr as she leans over the other, nudging one of her legs between Lovek's and placing both of her hands next to her head, trapping her beneath her.

"If you wish for my attention, you need but ask for it nicely."

[primalvessel]

licks the blood of maru's face

Swats her away with a small grimace and a wrinkled nose.

"Thanks Lovek, but I think I'll go wash the blood off properly. You'll be there a while otherwise..."

Head wounds bled a lot after all.

[revorto]

slinks close to pyke after he's had a few too many glasses and takes his hands, before beginning to spin them both around while singing a sea shanty obnoxiously.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧 as if he was caught by a current in the ocean , yet he is not beneath the waves. for the contact of warm & feverish fingers clash with his , frigid & calloused hands still soaked with the cold of the deep. it's biting chill would never dare leave. he is forced to tiptoe around stumbling boots & is barely able to avoid the tables as they spun with no destination in sight. the song kept changing in tempo , with scattered chairs & uneven wooden boards making the dance more of a test than a dance entirely. however , as well as he was doing , in an instant everything stopped. as the dancing had turned to falling , they did not let go , hands still gripped tight & the sing-along coming its abrupt end with a surprised shout. pyke couldn't be sure who had first fallen or how , but now his hands were free from the clutches of the other. grumbling as he sat up , he finds the other still sprawled out on the floor as small giggles flood out of his mouth. ❝ i didn't sign up for dancin' classes. ❞ & he is sure to never ask lovek to show him again if there was even a hint of booze in their breath. ❝ not the right words either. ❞ / @adenial

[sunlessea]

quite delicate, the sickly prince of london, with the quiet presence to match. he'd not fault the artisan, for not even hearing his approach, when he unintentionally takes such care to make his steps so soft, barefoot 'neath his nightgown. they rumor a ghost in the castle for a reason! least of all because of his frailty. a bit scandalous on his part, perhaps, to wander the halls as such. but he's terribly bored.

"are you mother's artisan?" his voice, at least, is gentle enough to curb startling him. hopefully. "are you painting for her?"

@londonfallen / silas

[adenial]

lovek....

[curenone]

yes my self esteem is as low as the bowels of hell, yes that means i let somnus do me in the back of a denny's by the dumpster, but that doesn't mean i love you any less babe.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❛ ❛ —— not the backshots ... ❜ ❜

[adenial-a]

my only comfort in life right now is the thought of sleepy mom lovek laying down with her little kit sleeping on her chest and all you hear is the softest babbling from a child u just know is going to be the chattiest child ever cuz they talk even in their sleep sleeps.

[tsckcyomi-archived]

"are you my mother now?" His voice is timid, looking up at her in all her splendor. He's so small compared to his father, and now especially so in comparison to his step mother. His ears point up, on high alert, and his periwinkle eyes grow wide in anticipation. The marriage between radagon and rennala had, in loveks eyes, come from nowhere: but he heard matches like this often were, something to be kept to adults only, children need not interfere. But now lovek has to share a manor, an unknown place, with a stranger, his father the only known thing he has to cling to. He'd heard so many ghastly stories of step mothers in the past, and now that they come to mind he shrinks a bit in nervous anticipation, wondering what life might be like with the queen of liurnia.

Would father still love him? Would he still get the same attention as before? Would lovek, orphan viera that he was, be locked up away by his step mother, like all the horrible story?

Ah, he'd worked himself up nearly to tears, sniffling a bit, his chin wobbling. "I can be a good boy, I p-promise. Please don't lock me up like the mean stories."

When she first heard of the child that her then spouse-to-be adopted in the wilderness, Rennala was rather taken aback. The fearsome champion of the Golden Order, soft and pliant around a kit. Yet, as unexpected as it was, she also, undeniably, found it... endearing.

Yet when the time for introductions came, Rennala remained distant to Lovek. She didn't know how to act around the small Viera, and she doesn't think he quite understood what their meeting meant back then ━ that his father and her were to be wed, that from now on, he and Radagon would remain in Liurnia. A child such as himself wouldn't know of the many trials and tribulations surrounding Radagon and her, and perhaps it's best he remains ignorant for a while longer. And as such, until Rennala and Radagon spoke their vows, she left the champion to tend to his child alone, protective as he was over him. It's an arrangement that she is content with, although she is rather curious about him. How or when they meet proper, now that every dynamic that Lovek has trusted in has shifted, is not up to her.

Naturally, Lovek moved into the manor along with Radagon nonetheless. The few days that passed ever since the wedding, Rennala often spent at the academy or with only Radagon. It's inevitable that eventually, whensoever Lovek dares leaving the room Rennala had furnished for him, they'd run into one another. And when they do, she stops in her tracks the moment she notices the small child wandering the halls. The way he looks up at her with such big eyes, so small and frail... The weight of his innocent inquiry is then laid upon her shoulders and Rennala finds herself stunned, her thoughts spiraling within mere seconds.

This matter is naught that her and Radagon discussed extensively before. Mentions of Lovek, their meetings, it all felt as though it was but a matter of courtesy. Radagon himself seems uncertain how to go about his new life as the queen's consort in these lands so foreign to him, so Rennala never pushed farther than she felt would prove productive. A mistake, in retrospect, but she cannot rectify this error now. All that she can think of is that she's not fit for a role with such heavy a burden. She's a scholar, a teacher, a warrior, a queen, now even a wife, but a mother? Having a young soul look to her for guidance, not out of admiration and loyalty or their thirst for knowledge, but due too a sheer dependence on her and her love for them? It's a foreign, a nigh terrifying thought. But taking Radagon as her spouse, did she not also bind herself to the duty of at the very least looking after his child?

The young Viera before her looks every much as worried as she feels. The stories that he heard, some certainly carry merit. Rennala, however, would only lock up prisoners of war and criminals. The way he quivers before her she cannot possibly imagine him capable of even only taking one too many desserts when not permitted.

"Thou needst not be good for me, dear child. I would never lock up thee." For a moment, she falls silent. She hasn't answered his initial question still, and she needs to gather her thoughts first, perhaps even her courage. A sigh slips past her lips before Rennala reaches up to remove the crescent crown sitting atop her head, adding to her height. Long, ebony strands fall over her shoulders as Rennala sets the crown aside and crouches down before Lovek so that they may see eye to eye. She reckons this way she is less intimidating to the small child.

Patiently, she offers a hand to him. "Whatever thou needst of me, I shall provide. And if it is thy wish, and only then, I shall be thy mother." 'Tis not her decision to make, after all. Should Lovek prefer her to remain but his father's wife rather than his mother, then Rennala would accept it without question. However, would Lovek want her to adopt him as one of her own... Then she'd do so without questions, as well. Perhaps she's not a mother, and perhaps the thought of becoming one shakes her to the core, but she's confident that she can learn what it means to raise and care for a child.

"Thou needst not make a decision right now, either. Regardless of what it is that thee wants, I will look after thee and thy father."

[primalvessel]

"i could take you," he claimed with some small amount of conviction, but his eyes were squinted as if lovek were trying to calculate if that was true or not. he thinks about endsinger, he thinks about zenos, and grimaces. "i had to kill a bear with my bare hands. i think i'll be okay," he doesn't mention that he had spent days in the arena running that said bear into exhaustion before he did it. he takes a shot of vodka, turns the cup over and puts it forcefully on the bar. "let's spar."

Maru glanced over from the corner of his eye as Lovek made his declaration, turning his singular gaze from his mug of mead as he did. He wasn't sure if his fuzzy ears detected a hint of drink-induced bravado in the Viera's tone but if Lovek wanted to pit his strength against Maru's, the Miqo'te didn't mind having a bit of a tussle.

Canting his head to the side just a little, the feline polished off the last of his mug of mead and was glad for the decent meal he'd had earlier. He was already a lightweight without tipping the scales further in Lovek's favour by getting wasted.

But beyond that, Maru didn't think. He didn't think about Zenos and how the fight had as good as killed him. He didn't think about Endsinger and how he'd been prepared to fight her alone after sending the Scions back to the ship. He didn't think about the countless battles he'd fought over the years.

And honestly? In a fist-fight Lovek could very well come out on top.

"Okay," the feline agreed with a small, light shrug. "Let's go. Winner gets dessert of their choice."