#Feran

[zondearts]

Drew Feran as a distraction

[neopronouns]

catferan | dogferan rabbitferan | pigeferan

catferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral cat

dogferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral dog

rabbitferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral rabbit

pigeferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral pigeon

[pt: catferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral cat

dogferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral dog

rabbitferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral rabbit

pigeferan: a gender related to feeling like a feral pigeon. end pt]

for 🍒 anon! the top, middle, and bottom stripes represent being feral and the rest represent the individual animals. the terms are the animal, 'fera' from 'feral', + 'an'!

'-feran' can be used as a suffix for other genders related to feeling like feral animals!

flag id: four flags with 7 stripes. the top left flag's stripes, in order, are very dark red, dark silver, light tannish-grey, very dark dull green, dull tan, orange-brown, and very dark brown. the top right flag's stripes, in order, are very dark red, faded medium brown, very light sandy brown, very dark dull green, tannish-grey, dark brownish-grey, and very dark brown.

the bottom left flag's stripes, in order, are light grey-brown, cream, very dark dull green, dull medium brown, dark dull brown, and very dark brown. the bottom right flag's stripes, in order, are very dark red, silver, very light silver, very dark dull green, dark dull cyan, dark blue-grey, and very dark brown. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

dni link

[lynnedwardswrites]

Happy WBW! What type of clothing is popular in your WIP and why? Bonus, tell me something cool/fun/interesting about it! (Could be how it's made, how it's worn, if it's fashionable, etc)

(Thanks so much for this ask and my apologies for waiting to answer it until STS!)

Ooh, ok, so the existence of werewolves (feran) in my society has done a ton of cool things to clothes. The most important to the story is the gefalten, which is a suit of leather armor that has pleats which expand to fit a feran's brode (hybrid) form:

It comes with boots called teilen that have leather panels that shift and slide around to accompany wider, digitigrade feet. These armor sets are most commonly worn by a group of feran holy warriors called the Wolfguard who are loyal to the Seerish church. In fact, this armor in this color specifically is kind of seen as a holy vestment.

The Wolfguard are kind of the exception when it comes to feran people in this setting, though. Most feran fall at the bottom of the social totem pole, and Morgenhausen fashion has some pretty strong racial lines.

Most feran are not warriors and don't need armor, but they do have to deal with the fact that their body will push them to transform about once a month (not in the light of the moon, that's just a story. Transformations can happen any time of day.) And some others use their brode form intentionally for gain (as hunters, for example, or in self-defense). Because of the size change, those who need to be free to transform used to wear looser clothing. This would amount to baggier tops, a specialized kind of belt that has a snap that lets it change to a set larger size when a little force is applied, loose pants, and maybe even some teilen boots if you had the money for them. If you didn't have a lot of money, clothing appropriate for a transfiguration might be the only clothes you had, and you'd wear them day in, day out.

This was a pretty distinct look, and because of its bottom-class/feral werewolf associations, it became gauche for anyone else to dress in loose, billowy clothing while in public. In fact, the upper classes got a thing for really tight, perfectly-tailored clothing that matches your physique. Not quite corsetry, but lots of panels and darts. Lots of buttons and laces. Maybe your shirt is long enough to have a bit of a skirt on it, but the top emphasizes the body under it.

Of course, if you were a feran person trying your best to make your way in the world and get that promotion in the guard or make sure the foreman took you seriously, then you had a problem. Because sometimes you needed to wear the big shirt, so you didn't wind up half-naked on the street during your time of the month, or so you would be able to defend yourself if necessary, but you couldn't just go to work or that party in a floursack, you also gotta look smart to impress the humans.

So pleated and folded clothing became popular, in styles like the tache shirt, which are kinda like the fabric version of a gefalten, but with a lot more variation. These kinds of garments are designed to fluff out big enough for a brode form, while still fold/pleat/wrapping around the body in a way that makes the extra fabric mostly invisible when in your human form, especially if you wear a nice jacket over the top or something.

It's not quite the same thing as what the humans are wearing, but it's respectable, and being seen as respectable (and therefore not dangerous) is important enough to collective social survival that many feran people will police each other over wearing this style, instead of the loose style.

[wally-b-feed]

Anthony Fineran (B 1981), Raldo Feran, 2023

[freekifran]

[furymint]

FFXIV Write 2024 | header | wc: 1,376 | cw: elliot's bad parenting | i kidnapped @houseshadowstar for this

If nothing else, Elena did look cute. Even as she pouted and complained that she was hungry, and even when Elliot had to remove her rings after they'd caught in her lace collar for the second time, she didn't entirely look like a four year old child set on establishing Elliot’s unmitigated doom. That was a good start.

As he herded her towards the door of his chambers, he realized that navigating through the cathedral and to the carriage was going to be impossible. He refused to hold her hand. Their heights were simply incompatible: he would have to lean to the side as he walked just to match her, and part of him would rather never go out again than be seen like that. Carrying her was more impossible. In the end, Elliot settled on the assistance of an iris. With the end of the stem in his hand and the flower in hers, he bridged the gap.

They made it to the carriage without further issue. The ostiary even complimented Elena's hairpiece—not that she noticed—while they trundled down the snow-lined path. Her deadweight didn't help him lift her into the cab, and her seat right at the window didn't help him join her, but Elliot comforted himself in thinking that the Shadowstar residence was not far.

"Their names are Ceridwen and Sirus," Elliot coached her.

Elena pushed her cheek into the window and said, "Mm."

The iris didn't work once they reached the stairs ascending to the front doors. Elliot took her hand to balance and encourage her through each tall step, inwardly noting the committed scrunch of her face as something to tell Nolanel.

Since there was no guard to admit them, Elliot let Elena press the doorbell.

Ceridwen answered just as Elena began scraping her new shoes against the stoop.

"Elliot! I'm so glad we could have you. Sirus is inside; I have him tending my chocolate to watch for bubbles. I hope the two of you have the time to wait for it to set?" Ceridwen took both of Elliot’s hands fondly and squeezed them.

"I hope so," he returned, looking pleadingly at Elena.

Ceridwen shifted her attention to the girl too. "Miss Elena, have you had pan au chocolate afore?"

She thought about it. "Can I have one?"

"They'll be finished soon," Ceridwen promised.

Elliot inched forward. "I apologize for being so direct, but do you have any refreshments immediately available?"

"I'm hungry," interjected Elena.

"Oh, good!" said Ceridwen.

Elena turned her head toward the left wall. "It doesn't feel good."

"We have plenty to fix that—we just have to join my brother." Ceridwen turned slowly to lead the ungainly pair into the estate.

Her massive tulle skirt rippled as she walked, flowing around the legs of side tables and undulating through open doorways. 

Elena pursued the rustling sound as they walked. In under ten seconds, her walk became a run, and the run into a complete forward tumble.

"No no no—Don't—Ugh!" Elliot wailed, reaching for her.

She didn't care. The tiny girl hugged the plush fabric, no worse for wear, and giggled as she stood with iron fists of fluff.

Ceridwen laughed with her, then knelt to to inquire if she were truly fine.

"It's not fine at all!" Elliot started, his voice rising in its pique. "She can be so inconsiderate of people. Clothes are as much of a person as all of their property. She's mistaken a lady's dress skirts for the curtains once, and tried to hide among them—I still have not lived it down."

Three things happened. Ceridwen ignored Elliot, offered her hand to Elena, and waited for the girl to bore herself when help was refused.

Elliot watched those three things from another world. It surprised him how much he hated them. If he were a different man, he would have patience, acceptance, and humor. He knew he had those things—for others. For the girl who was suddenly in his life until he died, and who he did not want there, he had none.

But she was just a child in a new place-—and it was no fault of hers that she didn't trust him. He didn't want to be near her—-she was mercurial and weird and loud—and he had work to do that couldn't include a blind urchin.

They were stuck with each other whether they liked it or not when Nolanel left. He couldn't just tell her that she'd been abandoned so Nolanel could return to war. He couldn't be her father, either, although he had no good reason for that.

He and Elena were acquaintances living together, even if she had no appreciation for poetry and he did not share her fondness for ripping paper into tiny strips. Sometimes he was convinced that she calculated her day according to what would annoy him most.

But if he wanted Elena to behave politely, then he must be polite first. His voice lowered. "Thank you for being so kind. I don't know what I'm doing."

Ceridwen frowned pityingly, but in a way that showed she disapproved. "Do you not recall a whit of Vhene's upbringing when she was so young? Children are not angels, no matter how we paint cherubs."

"Of course I do," he insisted, "but Vhene had Norhi and all the force of the Bellworks behind her upbringing. 'Twas a bit strange, but she still had an entire party of adults to tell her not to climb up the kitchen cabinets."

"I'm sure they were only successful in deterring her half the time."

"That's true," Elliot grumbled.

Ceridwen rose to her feet and allowed the child to hold onto her skirt at they continued. "But Elena has you, your father, and all the rest—she shan't beat the table in a drum march because her food hasn't arrived timely enough. You won't let her."

Elliot impatiently nodded. "Yes, but heaven knows what else she keeps for dinner manners when she's excited. She probably had wolves for parents afore she had Nolanel. He's hardly any better."

Ceridwen looked blandly over at him and centered the charm on her necklace. "I doubt you. Ser Feran is as polite as a knight comes. It's true he intuits nothing in the language of gossip, but at one request he is the most accommodating creature I've ever met in a ballroom."

"That's because he's frightened out of his wits and desperate for guidance. Once he's comfortable and knows you enough, he forgets what it is to compromise."

Sirus whistled a falling note from the kitchen. "Damn," he cringed, appearing in the doorway. "Dwen was correct when she said this intervention would be for you more than the kid."

Elena followed Ceridwen past him into the kitchen. It was a massive, organized, efficient affair of countertops and containers. Elliot remained outside while Ceridwen swept around the island and poured a ramekin full of assorted berries. She handed it to Elena.

Elliot leaned against the opposite side of the doorframe and wagged a hand at Sirus. He wanted to talk of anything—even for a moment—that wasn't children. "Sirus. Have you patronized The Brume Closet recently? I heard there is a mistress proprietor now. When did ownership change hands?"

Sirus pressed deeper into his share of doorframe casually. "Oh, it's not so much of a change. I mean, some change, but just from an old name to a new one."

"Oh, very good," he replied, though he sounded absent. 

For the time being, Elena devoured blueberries in the same silence the room took on. Steam and scents wafted from one of the ovens while chocolate cooled at the other side of the room, away from its heat.

Ceridwen resumed her harassment. "Vhene is also nine, now, in case you've forgotten."

Elliot recoiled and slumped. "Why does the new youth so often do naught but remind me of my age!"

Sirus tilted his head. "How much older are we than him again?"

"Stop making fun of me!"

"I mean, you've asked for it," Sirus shrugged. "Coming here to wallow about how you've made enemies with your own kid."

"But she's not my child," Elliot sulked.

Ceridwen looked at her baking chronometer. "All right," she sighed. "How much time do we have?"

[0-twentyone]

Feran out there trying to shark that boii 😭🔥

[groovy-rat-man]

Fuck it I'm on a skyrim kick again (and by that I'm desperately searching for anything related to the only npc I've been marrying recently) so here's how I think all the Sadri's are related

So canonicaly Revyn Sadri (of Sadri's Used Wares) and Idesa Sadri (the nanny who warns her kid about the dark brotherhood) are siblings, says so right in the games code. Now I like to think that Geldis Sadri (that guy who runs the corner club on the island I can't remember how to spell) is their dad. I have no evidence for this, it's just an idea I like. Now something I have somehow even less evidence for is Feran Sadri (one of the vampires from the vampire dlc) being Geldis Sadri's great uncle or something. No idea how he's related to them, I just like to think that he's an older relative that is basically dead to everyone else.

This has been my Ted talk

[nazumorim]

[whitegoldtower]

More Volkihar Hurt/Comfort. Here’s what happens if you hug them.

Serana: initially tries to push you away, but then holds onto you so tightly that she starts shaking. You feel all of her rage and heartache, all of her fear of intimacy, all of her longing for connection.

Valerica: you connect with her mind and feel a mother’s guilt and heartbreak as she lets you in. She imagines that you are her child, that she can fix you as she combs her fingers through your hair.

Garan Marethi: Does nothing. He lets you hug him, and you just feel his tiredness wash over you. You feel his appreciation, but also his longing to just be left alone.

Ronthil: starts crying as soon as your hands touch him. He doesnt put his arms around you, but he curls up with his hands against his chest and allows you to hold and sway him like a baby. He misses his mother.

Vingalmo: Acts like the hug means nothing to him, like he’s used to it. But he hesitates when you wrap your arms around him. You feel mistrust radiating from him, and when he realises you’re not trying to kill him or hurt him, he melts. He wraps his arms around you and presses his face against yours. His eyes begin to well up, and he scrunches his face up to fight the intensity.

Feran Sadri: He sighs and gives you a gentle squeeze, resting his head on your shoulder. You feel a calm resignation washing over you as your minds connect. A sad sort of understanding connecting you both. He doesnt look you in the eye when you pull away, but he does thank you.

[zondearts]

some oc headshots

[gravity-rainbow]

Fernan Lake November 13 2023

[snowy-weather]

Favourite Volkihar vampires: Serana, Garan Marethi, Feran Sadri, Ronthil. ^^

--

Please consider reblogging my art. It tells me you like it and helps me stay motivated and keep drawing so I can give you more art! ^^

[sedgewicke]

OK, do I choose Team Dawnguard or Team Volkihar? Well, both of my DBs are basically good people, so it'd be hard to justify them joining a bunch of evil vampires, or even becoming a vampire in the first place so—

Um...

Well...

Oh no...

SWEET BOY NO

[kyrylo-kot]

   ✧ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. ✧ 【 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 】           ✧ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐛𝐞𝐝. ✧【 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 】

[furymint]

FFXIV Write 2024 | header | wc: 1,045

Elliot: Game time: Tell me who your favorite Bell is.

Nolanel: That guy.

Elliot: That was swift. Arym? Truly?

Nolanel: Weird name. Yeah. Had breakfast more than once with him, real early. I think he only knows about eighteen words in Eorzean.

Elliot: Please! Truthfully now?

Nolanel: Brave.

Elliot: Our bellwether? Not Norhi?

Nolanel: Not Norhi. Brave takes care of you folk. She's ready and straight so you can keep your finger paint straight, and ain't afraid to cut manners out of business with crows.

Elliot: Not to doubt your munificence, but I never suspected that you would forgive her for making you leave.

Nolanel: I never blamed her. She's fair. The only one of you that's fair.

Elliot: I'm pretty.

Nolanel: You're besides the point. And what answer's in your pretty head?

Elliot: I'll pretend to think about this. Norhi.

Nolanel: She babies you.

Elliot: Not more than she indulges you.

Nolanel: One day she'll need to tell you no.

Elliot: She has—but never when it matters. What's more, she despises everyone I despise with the exact amount of candor to prove it's real. Norhi never argues, either. The way she avoids confrontation could almost make one believe that bickering is unenjoyable.

Nolanel: Imagine that.

Elliot: But I like Brave too. She always lets me make a fool of myself while watching with that smile you have.

Nolanel: It's easy to wind you up and set you marching like a toy.

Elliot: Joy is always running—although often away.

Nolanel: Wyda I mostly like. Got some wrong ideas.

Elliot: About Xanadu.

Nolanel: And her bedmates.

Elliot: Oof. But she's the most intelligent person I know--even if she applies her gifts hazardously—and she's my most favorite to talk too.

Nolanel: Aye, I know you're in love with her.

Elliot: I think she'd hate that more than I, if it's possible. But if you were to fall in love with any of them, who would it be?

Nolanel: No. That's propaganda.

Elliot: I don't know what you mean. It's foolishness.

Nolanel: It's what you said about the Faithful. For naught but making oneself furious, especially when it don't make sense. Now you see—

Elliot: I think it's humorous!

Nolanel: Answer me yours, then.

Elliot: You'll loathe me.

Nolanel: Try.

Elliot: August.

Nolanel: You're the stupidest man in the world! Heavens! Fury!

Elliot: Haha!

Nolanel: Gods, lightning could strike you twice and you'd beg a third. 

Elliot: I can't help it!

Nolanel: Your no-good taste needs to be studied. Self-destruction. Self-denial. All those things you say—and you doe-eye some imperial who looks at you like he hopes your pansy tongue rots in your mouth.

Elliot: Well, if only I spoke poison!

Nolanel: What'll it take for you to love an artist? 

Elliot: I couldn't possibly love a mirror.

Nolanel: Ah—Only soldiers who want naught with knowing your happy little theories about war.

Elliot: His eyes are gorgeous.

Nolanel: Ugh! The only man with the right priority in this damned country. Let him be.

Elliot: But I have! I don't court the thought of dying here by angering him like you have.

Nolanel: It'd be one nice thought in my brain to think you'd have the sense to darling something decent when I'm killed.

Elliot: No no, there's no betterment or forgetting where I'm involved. Aren't we supposed to sigh and look wan for the rest of our lives, and pray in the monastery that love was taken too soon and shall not come again?

Nolanel: No.

Elliot: You mean if my heart gave in this moment, you'd grow past me while I spent eternity in my glowing youth? I'd be the perfect thing to worship since I wouldn't talk back—and you'd open your affection to a distraction? Who?

Nolanel: That's propaganda.

Elliot: Stop thinking and just gossip with me!

Nolanel: No!

Elliot: 'Tis August, too! Haha!

Nolanel: Oh, fuck no—I'm not so ridiculous.

Elliot: I'll go down the roster until you blush.

Nolanel: Do what you want.

Elliot: That's what life is for. Now. Hm. Not Laelia—she has that miasma about her. Max is evil. Vicky is...

Nolanel: The only among them with a decent mind. She's sturdy and patient. She listens. But get out of the Garleans.

Elliot: Wyda, then.

Nolanel: Just to sicken her more? No, she's too argumentative. Always thinks she's in mandate of the only truth.

Elliot: Norhi doesn't argue, then.

Nolanel: Norhi is married. I'm no salesman. Besides, she has ears.

Elliot: You also have ears.

Nolanel: Hm.

Elliot: What if you married Xanadu instead?

Nolanel: You'd pawn off your wife like that?

Elliot: I make a terrible husband; I'm destined for bachelorhood soon. You would be a much more admirable spouse.

Nolanel: 'Tis true I can make bread.

Elliot: Oh! Ser Basile then!

Nolanel: Don't let him hear that pun; he'll probably enjoy it and I'll never hear his name right again. He's the man people need, but not me.

Elliot: Cass?

Nolanel: You want an answer, not a conversation anymore.

Elliot: So? Cass? 

Nolanel: Closer.

Elliot: Ha!

Nolanel: But there's a dragon where anything else ought to be. A stupid dragon in looks and manner, but still one.

Elliot: I should've expected so. It treats well with the chocobos, somehow, at home in the Bell house. I also appreciate that her hair changes more often than the seasons.

Nolanel: Is it supper time yet?

Elliot: We have to consider more names! Eliane? Brave? I know Yumi and Haru are no choices for you; nor dear Sasamu. 

Nolanel: I don't know anyone else. I doubt Lady Dufresne would enjoy knowing that an industry-despising dandy and former employee was flirting with the idea of setting his dragoon paramour away to disrupt her marriage.

Elliot: That's why gossip is only shared with trusted companions who would never speak a word to anyone. Except the daily press, perhaps. However! This is for amusement! Not—

Nolanel: 'Ey! What's love in this place worth? Who should I love among the residents of Alvarium?

<< SALUTATIONS. CITIZEN (Elliot Cadieux) AND GUEST (User Unknown), I AM PREPARED TO ASSIST WITH REQUESTS. THE CITIZENS OF (Alvarium) ARE MANY AND MAY OFFER UNIQUE RESPONSES TO YOUR QUESTIONS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONDUCT A PUBLIC SURVEY? >>