#felran lavellan

[opposablethumbsonabear]

Life doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway

number two in the revival of that modern au where ocs star in hamilton: @bladeverbena‘s wonderful boy Felran as Burr. (i know he’s slumbering; this is my gift to him while he does.) (fun fact: the au originated with halla and felran, bffs, playing hamilton and burr opposite one another)

( halla as hamilton | aiyan as angelica | calliope as eliza )

[lorspolairepeluche]

I submit to you: ↖

↖ - The diary entry from the day our [characters] met.

19 Wintermarch (Verimensis), 9:42 Dragon.

I hated that. I hated every second of that. I wanted to kill that magister every time his hands wandered on his slaves, even as he lined them up for my “inspection.” I wanted to take the one I was there for and run, run out of fucking Minrathous and back to Skyhold and never look back. Fucking Tevinter. And here I was thinking that it was a noble heritage to have, that I should be proud of the Tevinter blood in me. I’m not so sure anymore. Maker, I hope whatever family Mama came from, it wasn’t the Scaevolas. Thinking I could be related to him makes me want to vomit.

Off the topic of him, the one we rescued is healthy, save for the mutilation scar that Scaevola mentioned to try and make us choose another one. But this is the one the Inquisitor wanted. His brother’s friend.

He called me “mistress” after we left Scaevola’s house. I think I was too sharp when I told him not to call me that. I will never make him flinch like that again.

Felran. I should call him by name. Reinforce that he’s not a slave anymore. We’re getting him out of Tevinter and back to Skyhold, and he will never have to fear Scaevola or any other master ever again.

- an excerpt from the personal journal of Halla Trevelyan, then Inquisition agent, about the mission she led to rescue Felran Lavellan (who would eventually come under her command as a member of her crack team) from Magister Scaevola’s ownership

diary entry prompts

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

♡ and ♧ both dealer's choice.

You know I’m dragging Felbean out to play :P

Rexus: Right, although I do hate to be such an ass, I must be going.

Felran: Already?? Butt it seems like you’ve only just arrived.

R: Doesn’t it, though? We really must do this again soon, but seeing as you’re all important now, I would understand if you can’t be arsed.

F: No, no, you’re right, we must! Perhaps dinner next time? I make a mean rump roast.

R: Oh, I remember! Quite delicious in a sandwich as well. I can bring the buns if you like.

F: Yes, you stuffed your cheeks quite full last time as I recall.

R: Indeed. Nowadays, though, it’s hard to find good ones that are glute-n free.

F: I’m sure you’ll manage. Figure out the details with Josephine, if you would be so kind. She is quite anal about how she keeps my schedule, after all.

R: Yes, mustn’t neglect your duty, after all.

F: Ahh, almost, my friend, but not quite. Better luck next time!

Send me a symbol to banter!

[sunshinemage]

☠

I miss your lil bean so... what would Nin say to Felran if he was drunk as hell?

Games have ended, rowdy songs have died down and most of the patrons have left. The Iron Bull and Krem are snoring in their corner, the barkeep and the waitress are cleaning up the tables. For once, the tavern is quiet. Of all the other people having fun tonight, only Felran and Nin remain upstairs. They’ve both had their fill of alcohol, and none of them really want to move, or seem to be able to.

“We should leave and go to bed maybe?” Felran drawls.

“Maybe,” Nin replies, “but if I stand up I will fall, I know it, I do.”

The sound of Felran’s laugh fill the place.

“Hey Felran, hey.”

“Yeeeah?”

“One last song? Will you sing one last song and then we’ll go?”

“Sing with me then alright?”

“No, you. This time, only you. Your voice and songs help standing up, they help holding on, they always do. And I need to stand up.”

Felran sits straight.

“You say this cause you’re drunk.”

“I am drunk. And also I never lie,” Nin says with a wink.

Felran sighs, closes his eyes and starts to hum.

For once, the tavern is quiet. The only sound coming from the place is the soft melody of Felran’s song, a song about brave hearts enduring the harshest of storms.

Thank you

[thereluctantinquisitor]

What happens in Antivan...

My contribution to what has now been dubbed the Drinking Buddies Saga! 

In which Felran Lavellan (belonging to the illustrious @bladeverbena) overhears Ralon teaching Darren some questionable Antivan phrases... 

(Approx. 2100 words) <3

“You got it, kid?”

Darren’s brow crinkled in concentration as he silently mouthed the words a few times, testing them on his tongue. “Yeah,” he said eventually, although it was far from convincing. “I think so.” He paused, seeming to chew the phrase over again before turning his bright blue eyes to Ralon. “And that’s really how you ask where is the bathroom in Antivan?”

“Sure is.” Ralon gave a lazy grin, leaning back on his chair and raising his tankard to Darren. “Nice work! Anyone ever told you you’re a fast learner?”

Darren’s skepticism vanished as a light blush tinged his cheeks and he looked away, quickly busying himself with his own drink. “Um, no, not really.”

“Well, you are.” Setting his empty tankard down and sliding it to the end of the table for refilling, Ralon regarded the youngest member of his squad warmly. “Now, want to learn how to ask what the time is? That’s a pretty fun one to say. Lots of r’s.”

Darren laughed softly, still a little flustered by the praise. “Maybe in a bit? I’m meant to go meet Captain Hanin soon. He said he’d help me with my stances some more.”

Sighing, Ralon leaned an elbow on the table and gave a deferential wave. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you skip class just this once. Next time, yeah?”

Grinning, Darren agreed and Ralon gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. The kid took a few fast gulps of his drink as he stood and set his tankard carefully down beside Ralon’s. Waggling his fingers in farewell, Ralon watched fondly until Darren disappeared out the door, smiling as the kid tucked his nose into his scarf to fend off the cold wind. It had risen with them at dawn, and needless to say, Ralon was grateful to be inside huddled by a warm hearth. Sighing contently, he snagged the jug of water on the table and poured himself a glass while he waited for a proper refill.

“I’ve got a rash on my rear?”

Ralon snorted into his cup. Spluttering, he wiped his mouth, coughing into his sleeve, firing a watery-eyed glower at Felran. The elven man bore the brunt of the expression with his usual brand of smarmy dignity as he slid into the empty chair.

“In the interest of anyone who might be eavesdropping,” Felran continued, lazily raising a hand to Cabot and gesturing for more drinks, “that was not a confession.”

“Pretty confident the only person eavesdropping was you.” Ralon blinked back tears and cleared his throat as he recovered from his near-drowning. “Also, love the way you always enter conversation ass-first. Really sets the mood.”

“You mean while you sit there and pretend you don’t love it?” Felran smirked then nodded his thanks to one of the servers who collected the empty tankards and replaced them with full ones. Ralon flashed her a bright smile that turned brittle as his gaze slid back to Felran.

“Okay, seriously, how come I could easily sit here and die of thirst, but the second you waggle a finger there’s an ale on the table? What’s your secret?” He paused, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Did you fuck Cabot?”

Felran raised his mug in mock-toast, slid into a cocky smile, and gave absolutely nothing away. As usual. Ralon rolled his eyes but chuckled fondly as he tapped their drinks together, willing to let his drinking buddy keep some of his secrets. So long as the free booze kept coming, who was he to complain?

“So… teaching the kid some of your mother-tongue?”

“Wow, you have a real knack for making everything sound filthy.”

Felran spread his hands. “It’s a gift. Now stop deflecting.” He kicked a leg up, resting his ankle on his knee as he regarded Ralon with an amused tilt to his lips. “Go on. What’s your play?”

The question left Ralon a little unsettled, so sniffed and gave an aloof shrug. “No play other than the obvious. The kid’s as green as they come.”

“He should probably get that checked out.”

Ralon groaned. “Gross, thanks for that.” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep the sound from turning into a laugh. “But seriously. Darren was just curious about Antivan. Kid’s barely travelled further than his front door. If anything, I like to think of it as a little lesson in trust.”

Felran arched a brow. “I assume you’re teaching him not to, right?”

A bright grin flashed across Ralon’s face. “That’s right. Look, he’s pretty much the picture of innocent farm boy, yeah?” Felran just snorted and raised his mug in agreement. “Right. So, this’ll be good training for him. Look, just… imagine I was a bigger asshole than I already am—”

—“Whoa, even my imagination has its limits, Ralon!”

“Ha-ha, fuck you too.”

“Shout me a drink at least once and I’ll consider it.”

“Sure. But know that if I order right now, it probably won’t arrive until sometime next week.”

They both slid into matching smiles at that, opting to take deep agreement gulps from their tankards; a form of conversational truce. With a deep, content gasp, Ralon set his mug down and leaned forward, grinning conspiratorially. “So… looks to me like you’ve got two options, friend.”

Thrumming his fingers on the table, Felran eyed Ralon curiously. “Oh? And what might they be.”

“Well, you can rat me out to the kid, or…”

Felran cocked his head. Ralon arched a brow. A silent conversation took place in that moment that would have probably resembled painfully awkward flirting to the casual observer. Then, slowly, Felran’s lips curled into a smile.

“Oh, I’m in.”

“Ralon!”

About a day had passed since the first lesson, and at the sound of his name being called shrilly from the Rest’s entrance, Ralon closed his eyes. It was time.

Quickly, he set his face into an easy smile. “Hey, Darren. What’s up?” Ralon swivelled on his chair, waving warmly at the kid before nodding his head to the other side of the table. “You’ve met Felran, right?”

Darren’s swift approach stuttered to a halt as he glanced over, seeming to only just notice the other man’s presence. “O-Oh, I, um… maybe once or twice?” Appearing thoroughly unsettled, Darren mustered an awkward smile. “Hello. Nice to see you.” His gaze immediately darted back to Ralon and he lowered his voice urgently. “Can we talk? Please?”

“Sure.” Ralon gestured to the seat beside him. “Go on. Grab a chair.”

Darren shifted nervously from foot to foot, but eventually gave in and sat. Huh, Ralon thought. I thought he’d put up more of a fight than that.

“You, um, know that thing you taught me a while ago?” he asked, hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. It took every ounce of Ralon’s willpower to keep the delight off his face

“You mean the bathroom thing? Yeah. Why?”

“Well, there was this other soldier from Antiva and I wanted to practice, so I said it to him and…” Darren’s face turned a bright red. “Well, he just walked away! Gave me this funny look, and I…” Those cripplingly blue eyes fixed themselves on Ralon. “Was that really what you made me say?”

“Darren!” Ralon pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt. You think I lied to you?”

Genuine worry flashed across Darren’s face. “I-I, well, no. I mean, I just wanted to—”

Ralon cut him off with a sharp wave, the motion turning into a gesture to Felran. “Look. I get it. You’re just starting out and it’s all a little scary. Your pronunciation might have just been off. Here, say it for Felran. He speaks Antivan too.”

To Felran’s credit, he played his role convincingly. After a little reassurance and some encouraging nods, he managed to get Darren to speak the magic Antivan words: I’ve got a rash on my rear.

It was like music to Ralon’s ears. He was glad Darren was so focused on Felran because there was no way he could have kept the shit-eating grin off his face. It wasn’t his fault. The kid just said it with such conviction.

“Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Felran said with a shrug. “Not sure what that other guy’s problem was. Maybe he lived closer to Rivain. Spoke a dialect or something.”

Ralon actually gave Felran an impressed look, raising his brows from behind Darren’s back. Good one.

“Oh… I didn’t think of that,” Darren confessed a little guiltily, and Ralon silently shared the sentiment. Sheepishly, the blond turned to Ralon. “Sorry. I just… panicked a little.” He broke into a nervous little chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s kinda scary, huh? Trying out another language.”

Oh Maker, the kid’s going to guilt me to death.

Ralon managed a forgiving laugh, draping an arm around Darren’s shoulder and having Felran order him a no-hard-feelings drink. It, of course, arrived promptly.

“Now, don’t go letting this set you back, okay?” Ralon said, clinking mugs then smiling at Darren as the young man drank a deep gulp. “It’s going to be tricky, but you can’t give up now.”

“Oh, I won’t!” Darren’s insistence was endearing, but that was to be expected. Ralon steadied himself. He had trained for this.

“Good. So, mister fast-learner, how about we have your guest teacher toss you a phrase, hmm?” Ralon glanced at Felran and winked. “Got anything good for my star pupil?”

As expected, Felran put on a good show of mulling it over like it was an incredibly important decision, and poor Darren lapped up the performance like an eager pup. Eventually, Felran settled on a phrase.

“How about… it’s nice to meet you?”

Darren’s eyes lit up and he nodded fervently. “Oh, yes please! That’s a good one.”

Felran smiled, nodding to himself, and Ralon swore he could feel the man’s mind ticking away. “Alright, repeat after me…”

By the time Darren was forced to abandon their language lessons for his extra training with Hanin, Ralon was almost ready to crack. The kid had taken to his latest phrase like a duck to water, repeating it excitedly, occasionally interrupted by Felran patiently correcting his pronunciation like the good, kind teacher he was.

“We’re horrible people,” Felran announced when the door swing shut behind Darren, leaving them alone with each other at the table.

“The worst,” Ralon agreed, tipping his head back and draining the last of his tankard. He set it down with a hard thud. “But Maker, Felran… that was terrible.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad.” A smirk tugged up the corner of Felran’s lips. “I had a lot worse in the line-up.”

Ralon cocked a brow. “Oh I believe it. But still…” He snorted, shaking his head. “Smother me in chocolate? Look, I know you speak a bit of Antivan, but that’s pretty damn specific.”

“I have no idea what you mean and I resent the implication.”

Rolling his eyes, Ralon slid his tankard to the edge of them table. “Say what you like, but I know there’s a story behind that one.”

Felran sighed, examining the inside of his mug with a carefully tailored expression of boredom. “There’s a story behind everything, Ralon. You should know that about me by—”

He was cut off abruptly as a tankard was thumped down in front of him by one of the servers, its contents sloshing over the side with the motion. Ralon watched in barely contained amusement as Felran’s expression shifted from surprise to confusion to melodramatic shock.

“Is this…?”

“The one I ordered last week? Yeah, probably.” Ralon gave an affable shrug, although a cheeky smile curved his lips. “You did mention something about me shouting you a drink, remember?”

Felran regarded him slowly for a time, the tip of his index finger tracing absently around the rim of the mug. “Oh, I remember. Are you propositioning me, Ralon?”

The Antivan snorted. “Please. When am I not? But hey, drink up. Enjoy this rare and magical treat. I have it on good authority that it tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

A low hum of agreement rose from Felran’s chest as he took a sip of the ale. “You know, I’ve heard that a lot too… and about more than just ale.”

“Always gotta outdo me, don’t you?” Ralon leaned forward on the table and propped his head up with his hand. “Can’t say I mind. Y’know, I never thought I’d meet my match in a place called the Herald’s Rest. Feels weirdly… blasphemous.”

“The best things often do.”

Felran grinned and raised a hand to flag down another pair of drinks well in advance. After all, if everything kept going well, their night might just go for longer than expected…

[rainbowd00dles]

Felran for @solitarysmith

I hope you like it!!

[splinterstaff]

@solitarysmith‘s fabulous Felran, and Rowan for a seriously overdue OCKiss piece, because these two ~♥

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

World building Wednesday for ol’ Rexus!

It’s technically Monday but who cares about words and days of the week, right? Not me, that’s for sure.

B A S I C S

Full name: Rexus Aemilius Maro Leventis

Gender: cis male

Sexuality: pansexual

Pronouns: he/him

O T H E R S

Family: Father: Gratian Leventis, Mother: Atilia Curio, Brother: Caius Leventis, Sister-in-law: Thalia Lutorius, Nephew: Atrus Leventis, several uncles, cousins, and distant relations.

Birthplace: Minrathous, Tevinter Imperium

Job: Frumentarius, an all-purpose spy, thug, and general doer of dirty work for the Magisterium

Phobias: commitment, sobriety, genuine concern for the happiness and wellbeing of others. Losing the few people he bothers caring about.

Guilty pleasures: caring about those few people. Otherwise let’s be real, if Rexus finds pleasure in something, he hardly feels guilty about it.

M O R A L S

Morality alignment: chaotic neutral (I did do a test for him once and got chaotic evil, which, I’m sure would apply at certain points in his life.

Sins: all of them. Mostly envy, though.

Virtues: pffffff

T H I S - O R - T H A T

Introvert/extrovert

Organized/disorganized

Calm/anxious

Disagreeable/agreeable

Cautious/reckless

Patient/impatient

Outspoken/reserved

Leader/follower

Empathetic/unemphatic

Optimistic/pessimistic

Traditional/modern

Hardworking/lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

Otp: Silver :3

Ot3: I don’t generally do ot3’s.

Brotp: Felran Lavellan

Notp: Any of the canon LIs, pretty much. I would never inflict him on them any more than I already have. Darren Miller. Sylathi Lavellan. Basically any exceptionally Good, must-be-protected ocs must be protected from him. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(Felran belongs to @bladeverbena, Darren is @thereluctantinquisitor’s, and Sylathi belongs to @saphyremelodies.)

Thank you!!

[sunshinemage]

OC Kiss Week 2017

Felran Lavellan ( @solitarysmith) & Nindarhmen - platonic kiss

Look at these dorks. Nin loves this dork.

[americanbeauty-americansidehoe]

@mlp-micoo Found this gem in my math notebook

[freya-theirondragon]

Kiss from Felran for Berries-tart. :D

:D Yeah kisses!!… lolz Beres-taar has three nicknames now.

Kiss on the cheek: Platonic love/Friendship/Attraction

Kiss over the wrist: I think you are beautiful/I find you attractive

Kiss over the back of the hand: Respect/Admiration/Reverence

Kiss on the knuckles: Protectiveness

Kiss on the fingertips: I care about you

[lorspolairepeluche]

meeting in the E.R/A&E au + felukes

Someone sat heavily in the chair next to Luke, startling him awake. “Fifth time in a fucking month...” his new neighbor muttered. He glanced at Luke, then away--then back to Luke, this time with a raised eyebrow and a once-over. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Luke said, shifting to sit up straight. “You in here for yourself?”

“Nah, for my friend.” The newcomer sighed, slumping down a bit in his chair. It made him look even shorter than he already was. “Got himself scraped up doing something dumb again.” He glanced at Luke again. “You?”

“My sister.” Luke shrugged. “Nothing serious. She got in a fight.” He chuckled. “The last words she said to me before they took her to get patched up were ‘did the other guy look worse?’”

The other man snorted. “Sounds like my kind of person.” He held out his hand. “I’m Felran, by the way.”

“Luke.” They shook hands. “Your friend...”

“Han.”

“He all right?”

“Same thing: got in a fight. Came limping back to my place after, said that some guy came in and broke it up, took the girl he was fighting with away. Funny, I’ve never known him to go after girls...” He glanced at Luke. “What?”

“Is your friend about, say, five foot ten? Buzz cut, resting bitch face?”

“Yeah, why...oh. Shit. No way.”

Luke let out a bark of laughter. “Yes way. Looks like we’re here for the same fight. I’m the one who broke it up.” He touched a tender spot on his jaw. “Took a couple hits for my trouble.”

“I’ll get him to say sorry,” Felran grumbled, slumping a little further down.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I got to meet a good-looking guy.”

Luke had never seen someone’s face turn so red so fast.

[sunshinemage]

- Inktober day#2 - 

Featuring @solitarysmith‘s fabulous bean, the one and only Felran <3

[lookatypingbear]

the tempest

There was nothing quite like being snuggled between Halla and Seth, safe and warm in bed, with a thunderstorm—his element—raging outside.

At least, not until Halla shifted and grumbled as she woke and a small someone crawled under the covers between her and Felran. Felran stirred from his half-sleep as a tiny, tough forehead nuzzled his chest. “Tommy?” Felran murmured groggily, looping an arm around the six-year-old. “Wh’s wrong?”

“Ghil won’t go to sleep,” Tommy mumbled as his mother tossed an arm over him too and Seth’s hand reached over Felran to rest on Tommy’s shoulder. “Keeps crying.”

“He keeps…” Felran repeated, his head beginning to clear as the beginnings of dread washed over him.

Then, under the crack of thunder and the pounding of the rain, he heard it, suddenly clear and alarming: a scream of fright.

Felran was heedless of the way he nearly leapt over Tommy and Halla to get out of bed and the way he ran to the next room shirtless and already freezing. All that mattered was the shivering boy wrapped in blankets and curled up in a ball, tucked against where the corner of the bed met the corner of the room.

“Ghil?” Felran called, but another boom of thunder had his younger son hiding his face in the blankets with a cry.

“Ghilan, da’len,” Felran murmured, kneeling by the bed and offering a hand. “Ghil, it’s okay. I’m here. Babae’s here.”

Only a pair of big, reflective eyes peered out from the blankets. “Bae?” Ghilan whispered. “It’s gonna get me.”

“It’s not gonna get you,” Felran assured him. “It won’t hurt you. Come here, da’len. I won’t let it hurt you.”

Slowly, slowly, Ghilan crawled from beneath the blankets. Felran tugged him close as soon as he could, tucking the two-year-old to his skinny chest and holding him. Ghilan curled up there, shivering the next time a boom sounded outside.

“Ghil,” Felran whispered. “Ghil, I’m gonna show you something, okay? We’re gonna go outside for a bit.”

Ghilan tensed in Felran’s arms, shaking his head as hard as he could. “No, no!”

“Ghilan,” Felran said steadily, “I’m not going to let it hurt you. I promise. I will not let anything hurt you.”

Ghilan tilted his head back, gazing at his babae with eyes that weren’t quite Halla’s and weren’t quite Felran’s. “You swear?” he whispered.

“I swear,” Felran answered solemnly. “On everything I love. On Da,” he placed a kiss on Ghilan’s forehead, “on Mama,” he kissed one cheek, “on Tommy,” he kissed the other cheek, “and on you.” He sealed his promise with a playful kiss to the tip of Ghilan’s nose. “Come on.”

It was a short trip past a sleepy Halla, Seth, and Tommy in the doorway of the children’s room, downstairs, to the door, and out into the rain, but by the time the first droplets fell on Felran’s head, Ghilan was clutching at him tight again, eyes wide. Ghilan let out a whimper, and Felran put a hand on his son’s head. “Shh,” he coaxed. “It’s all right, look.” Setting Ghilan down on the grass, he raised a hand over his head, and the barrier he created stopped the rain. “See? It won’t hurt you.”

But at the next crack of thunder, Ghilan let out a shrill scream and clutched at Felran’s legs. “Bae!”

“It’s all right,” Felran said again. “See, the lighting—” he pointed at the next flash, “and now count the seconds with me. One, two, three…” The thunder pounded, drowning out four, and Felran nodded. “That shows you how close the storm is. It’s not that close right now, da'len.” He held out the hand not holding the barrier in place, and tiny arcs of lightning jumped from finger to finger. “Look, Ghil. The storm does what I tell it to. The storm is mine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Ghilan shied back against Felran’s legs, and Felran let the spell go. “We’re gonna get a little wet, okay, Ghil? Babae needs both his hands for this spell.”

Ghilan yelped at the first droplets when Felran dropped the barrier, but slowly, slowly, his hold on Felran relaxed, until he was giggling, holding out his hands to catch more rain.

Felran closed his eyes, feeling the storm tug at him. He reversed the pull, grasping at the storm—gently, gently, don’t scare Ghilan—and a soft rumble of percussive thunder sounded overhead over the rhythm of the rain. He was the conductor now, the storm his orchestra. A wave of a hand, and the wind picked up a little, adding its hum to the sound. “Listen, Ghil,” he murmured as his son looked up at the sky with wide eyes and a smile. “There’s music in the storm.”

—

Ghilan’s fingers twitched, and the lightning in his hand crackled, adding its own tiny percussion to the sounds of the storm. His hair was soaked and tangled, but he didn’t care. His element was singing around him, singing to him.

He slowly, slowly became aware of someone watching him, and he smiled when the thunder gave a rumble that sent a shiver of someone else’s magic through him. “Music in the storm,” Ghilan murmured—just before he cast one of his arms up toward the sky, enjoying the huge bass boom of thunder that resulted, resounding in his chest. “Look, Papa,” he called playfully, echoing words from nearly twenty years before. “The storm does what I tell it to.”

Felran laughed aloud from behind him, stepping out into the rain. “So it does, Ghil. You’ve become quite the musician with it.”

Ghilan smiled at that. “You were right, Papa.”

“I usually am. What about this time?” Felran asked, letting sparks of lightning leap between his hands.

Ghilan’s smile grew to a grin at the sky. “There was never anything to be afraid of. The storm is mine.”

--

--

felran belongs to @solitarysmith, sethras belongs to @thefluffynug, smith and i co-own ghilan, and essie and i co-own tommy! smith gave me a prompt of “rain” and “something felran and halla-y” a while back, and i took some liberty in making it about felran and his and halla’s son. cheers, smith. thanks for the prompt!

[elvenbeard]

Felran and Amrun for @solitarysmith and @inquisitcrlavellan and their wonderful modern au!! :D Thanks so much for commissioning me, it’s been a pleasure to draw your boys all fluffly and cuddling! <3

[commission info] || [art tag] || [art blog] || [patreon]