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u-andcloud.bsky.social
lev
@u-andcloud.bsky.social
110 followers 110 following 4.1K posts
they/them, 30s
Lysander Fels @ Exodus
wolaymerhien hq (aspirational)
sometimes nsfw
icon by anaithnidd.bsky.social
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u-andcloud.bsky.social
decided to finally use this top because having him in a robe even for his ooc casting classes was starting to bother me....he's not himself without thighboots and some kind of leather corset/vest thing apparently....
November 9, 2025 at 8:49 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
📌 i'm lev!
💎 writer, baby gposer, wol/oc lore oversharer (sometimes i remember these tags: #felsfacts and #felsfic )
🍃 mostly but not entirely an xiv account (some misc. games/anime/etc.)
⛰️ wol/oc basics below, and ao3 for more: archiveofourown.org/users/u_andc...
A graphic about my FFXIV OCs. An infant Elezen is abandoned to the mercy of the Elementals in the North Shroud, and… Path 1: is discovered by traveling adventurers, who take him in and raise him as their own. Lysander Fels [image: a pale, dark-eyed and black-haired Duskwight Elezen man with Archon marks on his neck, dressed in dark red, smiling slightly] : The Warrior of Light. A scholar of Geology. Aspiring Archon (“aspiring” is crossed out). Highly Powerful Summoner. Self-assured, but reserved. He believes firmly in his right to live his life as he wishes and pursue what makes him happy. Heroism does not come easily to him, but he has learned what it is he wishes to protect. To the left of Lysander, his adoptive fathers, who are partners: Saunder Fels [image: grinning Hyuran man, tan with red hair]: Born Alisaunder Felswic III. Runaway Ala Mhigan nobility. Former adventurer and treasure hunter. Valerien Fels [image: frowning light-skinned Wildwood Elezen man with long black hair and grayish eyes]: Bastard child of a prestigious mage family. Former professor of the Sharlayan Colony. Aetherically weak, but loves arcanima in all its forms. Path 2: is brought back home by his older half-sister, who insists their mother care for the unwanted child. Sylvien Monteil [image: like Lysander, no Archon marks, smiling more openly, dressed in dark green]: Woodsman and amateur botanist. Apprentice carpenter. Carefree and easygoing, but somewhat insecure. He struggles to believe that he is truly important to anyone, and so lives as he pleases. To the right of Sylvien, his half-sister: Irienne Monteil [image: a gray-skinned Duskwight Elezen woman with green eyes and white hair shaved on the sides, wearing armor]: The Warrior of Light. Briefly a gladiator of the Coliseum. Proud Scion of the Seventh Dawn. Possessed of a strong sense of justice, but many years in a struggling village left her jaded. Hearing the voice of Hydaelyn and joining the Scions has granted her new purpose.
November 8, 2025 at 6:22 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i'm so iripilled rn because i went to pandora to try to solve my stale music problem and it didn't really help but it threw this song at me again and it's just so very her (i am listening to it again)
November 6, 2025 at 8:31 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
wip wednesday he's so exhausting (i'm sure that bit about the broken bridge doesn't matter at all)
But as the paths give way to dirt-packed roads, Sylvien’s thoughts rush ahead to the city. He has nothing to bring back to the Atrium; the mushrooms will be sold via the botanists' guild, still a reliable source of income despite his increasingly infrequent appearances there. Will Beatin be disappointed? First all his awkwardness, his lack of focus, now a long absence with nothing to show for it; perhaps he will even be angry— He cannot help but imagine it, a miserable indulgence that blooms readily over his melancholy like a carpet of fungus on moist ground. Though he had feared the same as a consequence of his flirting, the feeling that grips his chest to think of Beatin’s ire now is exponentially more potent. He imagines the accusations that might fly—that he loiters in the guild for the wrong reasons, that he fouls the art of woodworking with his motivations—and he would nearly be inclined to believe them himself, for is it not uncharacteristic of him to apply his efforts in this way, to dedicate himself to the tedious process of learning a skill that allows him to be part of the city in which he had only dared exist before? And yet somehow, he still wants to hurry back, pausing at a crossroads and opting for the more direct route, even if it passes through a bog that many travelers avoid due to the poor maintenance of the bridges spanning the water. Beatin may be disappointed, but is it not disappointment born of expectation? And no one has expected anything of Sylvien before, not even Irienne, who had all but raised him and yet had never demanded that he make anything of himself. He can bear disappointment, as long as it is not the end, as long as he yet has a chance to prove he can be something worthy of that intent, appraising gaze—
November 5, 2025 at 8:55 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
did somebody say cool rocks
November 3, 2025 at 8:08 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
New drabble in the Breccia collection; someday I'll be able to add a character tag to this one that isn't a white-haired elf, but for now, it's Estinien again.

❄️ archiveofourown.org/works/570591...
Ao3 screenshot reading: Chapter 6: Shepherd (6.0). Summary: Estinien recommends a break. [Post-"In from the Cold"]
November 3, 2025 at 3:17 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
if the scions get to be particular about transferring their New Looks to the Source, so does Sylvien
Close up of a pale elezen with long, slightly touselled black hair leaning in a doorway, gazing with a fond smile at someone offscreen. The same elezen standing in front of Beatin in the Oak Atrium; Beatin gazes at him with astonishment and lifts a hand tentatively towards his face.
November 2, 2025 at 9:33 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
I Know What You Are
November 2, 2025 at 6:10 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
MVPPPPPPPPPP
November 1, 2025 at 2:19 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
aside from what i've already said my emotional state can only be captured in some crusty old heart emoji memes
October 31, 2025 at 10:15 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
this is long for an excerpt but i don't think I'll finish the fic itself so...this is all i could come up with to justify the outfit...I think he's being cute :) #felsfic
Beatin, Sylvien thinks, is going to be rather cross with him. They have come to the manor in advance of the impending All Saints’ Wake festivities with a troop of other carpenters, tasked with carrying out various repairs before the Circus unveils its newest attraction. Beatin, of course, was all business as soon as they arrived, barking out orders and sending carpenters scurrying through the corridors, making even some of the Circus members cower in fear of his saw if he sensed from them even an inkling of mischief. Sylvien was as quick as the rest to spring into action—but having never been to the manor before, he found his attention drifting just as readily as soon as the Timbermaster was out of sight. It was not long before his assigned task was abandoned in favor of pure exploration, as he set out to investigate each of the rooms with thrilled delight. Circus members were all too eager to indulge him, trying out tricks and treats on their willing audience, leading him onward to ever more haunting displays, greedily demanding his opinions once his initial gasps or snickers subsided. Beatin’s warnings regarding the troupe’s true nature had not fallen on deaf ears, exactly, but Sylvien finds it difficult to see the Circus as anything but a thoroughly amusing lot of earnest performers, voidsent or no. Perhaps that is why he had felt so inclined to offer his assistance when he came across a pair of them, looking to his eye like nothing more than two young Keeper women, lamenting that they had been confined to crier duty when they wanted nothing more than to work in the manor on opening night a few days away. It could not be especially difficult to be a crier, he had mused, and it certainly was not, they told him quite eagerly, for all one needed was a good memory for a few standard lines, and—most importantly—a properly eye-catching outfit. And thus he found himself deep in their wardrobe, testing out possibilities, enjoying being fawned over by the girls as they thrust sheer stockings and increasingly revealing tops past the curtain for him to model. “It’s too much,” one of them giggles as she affixes a pair of horns to his forehead, before looking him up and down. “Gridanians are such bores.” “They’ll shoo him off the streets,” the other agrees, “but it is such a waste. His legs are gorgeous.” Sylvien is inclined to agree, turning this way and that as he inspects himself in a foggy full-length mirror. Black is always striking against his skin, as pale as it is, but the peep of sheer stockings around his upper thigh, disappearing beneath long leather boots that hug his calves and leave him perching on a much higher heel than he is used to, is absolutely tantalizing, if he does say so himself. Not to mention the rest of the ensemble, scraps of black fabric barely concealing his crotch and chest, leaving a large swathe of his torso bare. For this occasion, the boniness of his form is rather well suited, and he watches himself twist in the mirror, smiling at the thought that his scrawniness can be made appealing, after all. But the girls have a point about Gridanian sensibilities, and eventually, he glances back at the wardrobe, his smile fading to something more rueful. “Perhaps something more like what Impresario wears would be better suited…” he begins. “Oh nooooo, you can’t,” one of them coos, grabbing his arm as though she is worried he will start disrobing again immediately. “Someone has to see this.” “A waste!” the other repeats, and though her continued giggling makes him wonder if she is entirely serious, another glimpse in the mirror makes him inclined to agree. He slides a hand from his hip down to his thigh, thinks of another hand doing the same, and bites his lip. And so, Sylvien has found himself wandering the corridors of the manor in search of Beatin. transcribed in previous alt text
October 30, 2025 at 1:58 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
needs a few more things but i think i've actually captured his little closet better now :)
October 28, 2025 at 1:10 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
so there's this oc i made like 12 years ago,,, (and also waver's nose)
October 22, 2025 at 4:07 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i will not post a long thread i will exist like this for three days and then go back to normal
meme image of a feral stick figure person holding a lil guy in it's teeth and then shaking him violently like a dog with a chew toy. the lil guy is colored to vaguely represent my oc Sylvien.
October 21, 2025 at 2:06 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
but he stays sillyyy (i don't know if i'm really writing this bc it's indirectly sylvbeatin again and i feel bad about iri showing up just to react to her brother's love life.)
Irienne knows she will never be comfortable in New Gridania. To walk along the city’s mossy thoroughfares is to wade through a sea of unwelcoming and suspicious glances—a Duskwight adventurer is little better than a Duskwight bandit, and for some the two might as well be equivalent. Whatever she has done in service of the realm, in service of this very place, matters not, for few here will look beyond the shade of her skin when they meet her in the streets or at a market stall. But Sylvien has found a home here, and that endears the city to her ever so slightly. For so long, she had agonized over whether she had been right to leave him alone, even knowing that the Twelveswood would drain her of life with each heavensturn. But she had known, too, that he would have been lost had he joined her in Ul’dah, a transplant shriveling in unsuitable soil, for the Shroud is a part of him more than it ever has been of her. She had survived by fighting it at every turn, fending off each reaching tendril of its influence, its biases, its hate, a fruitless, enervating battle that she would never win, while Sylvien had never bothered, instead taking the lot he was given and growing in it, like a stubborn weed sprouting again and again despite the gardener’s efforts to cull it. For all those who might deny him belonging here, he claims a place regardless and, despite his sister’s worrying, has thrived in it.
October 20, 2025 at 9:17 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i tried to let them be cute too and it crashed my game :/
Sylvien and Beatin in cozy autumn gear, strolling arm in arm in the Sneaky Hollow--Sylvien looks surprised and maybe a tiny bit spooked, while Beatin smiles as he shows him around.
October 20, 2025 at 1:38 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i've been leveling other jobs SO slowly that it surprises me when i get to a job quest. like oh yeah. we have those. (also, relatedly, He Is Not.)
October 19, 2025 at 11:58 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
ok but consider...please?? please please???
October 19, 2025 at 8:55 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
a mischievous imp has captured the Timbermaster 😈 (...or is it the other way around?)
A full-body screenshot of Sylvien, dressed in something that could generously be called a sexy imp costume (there are horns, at least) leaning seductively against Beatin in the haunted manor. (Beatin is dressed for work) A closer view of Sylvien smirking at Beatin. Beatin wrapping an arm around Sylvien's waist and pulling him closer, to Sylvien's surprise.
October 19, 2025 at 1:28 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
it's me
October 18, 2025 at 1:16 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i mean honestly less cursed than it could have been given the circumstances but i *had* been looking for a way to let sweaty aymeric have his moment......?
The changing room Is empty. Lysander saunters to a stall all the way at the end, but when he catches a flash of blue in his periphery and turns, he cannot help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Gods, Aymeric, I cannot take it seriously. What is this all about?” The elephant droops, and then reaches to pop the head from its shoulders. Aymeric’s face appears, flushed and a bit damp, drawn in an aggrieved expression. “How exactly was I meant to bring it up?” he sighs. “I…know not how it happened, really. Obviously Estinien brought me the suit in jest, but on a whim, I thought…” His flush deepens slightly. “…and then the people seemed so delighted, I wondered if it would disappoint them should the guardian of Empyreum never appear again…” Lysander exhales. “Oh, all right. Never mind, then. Are you just going to stand there?” “Wh—are you serious?” “I promise to be quiet.” Lysander stands, plucking the oversized head from Aymeric’s arms and stepping close to drape himself against his chest—a rather comfortable spot, really, with all the plush padding. Up close, it is even more clear how warm it must get within the costume—Aymeric’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, and sweat dampens the collar of his undershirt visible under the edge of the costume.
October 15, 2025 at 4:16 PM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
i saved like 400 quartz for him and he was kind enough not to make me use too many :)
October 15, 2025 at 10:48 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
thank you dear friends for coming to empyreum to join me in waiting for this guy to finish making a single cocktail 🫶
October 15, 2025 at 1:38 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
he's our lifeguard
October 15, 2025 at 12:11 AM
u-andcloud.bsky.social
in coerthas. for some reason.
October 14, 2025 at 11:16 PM