my life, for your cause

"when i say yee, you say haw!" "haw!" "i didn't say fucking yee."

[nohrianlance]

“Yeehaw!” Izana didn’t stop to ask himself why he said that. He approached Silas, yet another vaguely familiar face. He held out a cup of tea. “Hello! Long time no see, heehee! Want a stamp?”

Yeehaw? Is that some kind of Izumite greeting… no, Silas won’t overthink these things this time. Especially coming from Izana of all people.

“Hello–” he says, trying to return the greeting, but he doesn’t get another word in before a cup of tea is shoved into his face. “A-A what?” Silas asks, gently taking the tea from Izana’s hands. It’s too easy to see Izana somehow stumbling during one of his ‘dances’ and making a mess of this poor thing. “Oh, a stamp. From that game the students are doing.”

Honestly, when one of the professors first described it to him, Silas thought it sounded like a fun little game to enjoy while he stands guard. Yet the night is halfway over now and the card is still pristine in his pocket, the signet ring unused. One of the knights here mentioned that he’s not much older than many of the students here, but even so, it’s like there’s this invisible barrier that divides himself from them. Surrounded by friends, champagne in hand, laughing without a care in the world... it’s just not the world that Silas lives in.

The thought makes him more melancholy than he’d like. “Yeah, I’d like one,” Silas answers. Balancing the tea in one hand, he pulls his card from his pocket and offers it to Izana. “Actually, you’ll be my first stamp!”

[theofficersacademy]

[ Ethereal Ball 2020 info post ]

ASK MEMES

Give my muse something to eat or drink…

Champagne: Imported from the western shores of the Adrestrian Empire, the school purchases 70 bottles of this stuff well in advanced for this day alone. The bartenders are under strict orders not to offer any student more than one glass.

Sparkling Water: Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal. 

Coffee: More specifically, a mocha brewed with Almyran coffee beans and Dagdan chocolate and served with hot milk. A sweeter variation of the drink taking Fódlan by storm. 

Tea: Just what it says on the tin! The only teas offered are Mint, Bergamot, Sweet-Apple Blend, Albinean Berry Blend, and Southern Fruit Blend, wrapped in small tea bags. Clever students bring their own tea.

Water: The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

Spaghetti and meatball: A lovers’ portion of freshly-made spaghetti cooked in the monastery’s famous tomato sauce. The titular, singular meatball sits in the center, waiting for one lucky person to have their lover roll it to them with their nose as an offering.

Sweet Bun Trio: A selection of traditional Faerghus pastries, all small enough to be eaten in one delicious bite! The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Pomegranate: A newcomer to the Ethereal Ball’s menu, a simple bowl of pomegranate seeds. No one in the staff is quite sure how these are supposed to be served, only that you better not spit the pits out on the floor!

Mint candy: For when your breath isn’t as fresh as newly-fallen snow.

Interact with my muse…

send 💌to invite my muse to the Goddess Tower

send 👀to accidentally find my muse at the Goddess Tower

send 🏃to sneak off and explore the monastery together

send 👗to compliment my muse’s outfit

send 🚨for my muse to call the fashion police on your muse

send 👂to pass along a rumor your muse has heard about someone else

or make up your own!

Dance with my muse…

send 💃to ask my muse for a dance

send 🙇for my muse to ask yours for a dance

send 👯to teach my muse a new dance

send 😃for my muse to make your muse laugh with a silly dance

send 💫for our muses to get paired with each other in the middle of a dance

[nohrianlance]

If you're still taking these, beep!

random text from my muse

1. A funny text

It was late at night–four in the morning to be exact–and as usual during this hour Silas’ common sense and ability to think has left the building. Finally his phone buzzes with the references Robyn used in her final essay for this class.

Silas doesn’t think, he just texts her back and goes.

[Sent - 4:04AM]

Five hours later, Corrin is howling in laughter. “You–You sent her–You really sent her that–!”

“Shut up!” Corrin tries, they really do, but only five seconds pass before they’re snickering and cackling again. Silas pushes their shoulder, not hard but hard enough. “If you didn’t send me that thing, I never would have sent it to her!”

[haikusandstareyes-blog]

ghost house

[nohrianlance]

haikusandstareyes‌: 

Mitama frowned. Whatever he intended with his words, he certainly chose a grating way to go about it. She wondered if there was some joy in it. Lecturing a child. She certainly did not see the satisfaction in it.

“And who is to say what loyalty I should feel to whom?” She asked in return, sparing him a brief glance. “What I knew of Hoshido in youth came purely through the mouth of my father. And it did not take me long with our numbers to realize that my Father’s perception seems a rare one with Hoshido’s citizens.”

The next fold she made was harsher than she intended. Her frown deepened. “Who is to even say that the land we inhabitant currently is even the “mainrealm” as you so put it. Who are we to decide that the lives of those in the deeprealms are any less their own mainrealm than ours?”   

She took a breath, steady, the best attempt at calming that she could muster. “My experience with Hoshido is second hand. I did not see the world my father was so prepared to throw my life onto the battlefield for until I joined you all. Who is to say I know Hoshido at all? Or that I have any right to claim it as homeland. I was not born here, I was born in a deeprealm. I have spent far more time off these lands than on.”

She fell quiet, sudden and abrupt. That…was far more than she intended to bring up initially. Her fingers drummed the table a moment before she huffed. “At least you had the honor of choosing your departing.”

The honor–?!

“Excuse me? ‘The honor of choosing my departing’?” Silas scoffs. “Are you even listening to yourself? Perhaps I should tell you that just prior to my choice to abandon all I ever knew and fight against the country I’ve sworn to protect, I was on the ground ready to die at the hands of my best friend.” Silas stops himself. Why must he explain all this, when it’s clear that Mitama cannot, will not understand? She’s right–by living in the Deeprealm, what does she know of loyalty to one’s homeland? 

“What matters isn’t that I was able to leave in the first place. It’s that I cannot even return, though I want to.” Silas swallows back his frustration, his voice grows tighter with each word. “Nohr is my home. Everyone in the castle knows this. The royal family knows this. Even Corrin knows this. If I could go back right now and help them, I’d leave this moment. But I can’t. I fought against the king because he would kill us all, and yet my countrymen will not hesitate to call me a traitor.” He spits the word out like a curse, more pained than bitter. He isn’t a traitor. He isn’t a traitor, and yet if he returns home now he will be treated as a traitor should. “You are more than old enough to make your own decisions. You are not stuck here as I am. If you feel so out of place here as I do, why not do what I cannot and go back to your Deeprealm? Surely you must have the honor of choosing your return.”

[nohrianlance]

seven minutes

[nohrianlance]

aimless--archer‌: 

Keep reading

“I–I won’t,” Silas promises. “I did say I was patient…” He is strong enough to still move his hips underneath Python, and yet he tries his best not to. Patience. Is it too late to take that back, if only to get a quicker release for the pleasure beginning to build inside of him? Probably.

And so Silas sits, leaning back against the couch with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. At first he’s quiet, soft pants being the only sign that Python was having any effect on him. It’s not long before he breaks his silence: a whimper as he pushes his hips upward into Python’s hand. He doesn’t get far–Python is frustratingly heavy, enough so that he can barely move his legs underneath him. Short of physically moving the man, there’s not much he can do. “Python…” Silas moans, frustrated and needy in one, “Fuck you.”

Silas may not have his legs, but he still has his arms, and he makes use of them. He fumbles with the front of Python’s jeans, opening them up enough for one of his hands to cup his partner’s own erection through the underwear, fingers stroking and squeezing through the fabric. Two can play this game. “Are you planning on taking your pants off anytime soon?”

[nohrianlance]

finding memory lane

[nohrianlance]

amnesicplegian‌: 

The tactician cringed at Silas’s description, feeling himself sink deeper into the dark, sticky muck of gloom. It wasn’t as though the knight’s assumption was completely off. The Grimleal did in fact see those with major Fell Blood as superior, and worthy of rule. A larger percentage of Fell Blood was typically accompanied with a great aptitude for magic, even if the blood failed to reach a major distinction. Yet, the Grimlea’s intent was hardly the simple usage of Grima’s power. Instead, it was to resurrect him into being once again, allowing the Fell Dragon to claim the world as his own…and destroy it. The Grimleal knew Grima’s rebirth would bring forth the end of mankind, and in some twisted rationality Robin could not understand, they embraced it.

His father had attempted to manipulate him dauntlessly. You are to be a God! Those words echoed in his mind, but worse than that, was Validar’s genuinely bewildered expression that he resisted such a “magnificent” birthright. His eyes narrowed. A God? Hardly. He thought to himself, knowing full well that it was not he that would gain such power. He was merely a skin for Grima to wear. Nothing more.

“They’d be fools, if they did. It’s not that I would gain Grima’s power,” Robin replied, his expression displaying repulsion, “I’d be his puppet. The Fell Dragon doesn’t want to share or gift his power, he wants to be resurrected, so he can destroy mankind. He can’t do it, without his Heart.”

Releasing a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair.

“I’d be ashamed, mortified and terrified even, if I learn my past self was accepting of this. That’s why I’m hesitant to let anyone see memories I can’t access myself…in case that’s the truth of it. I don’t want others to think less of me or to distrust me.”

“...I see.” Silas doesn’t, not entirely, but what else can he say? It’s now when he finally realizes just out of his league he is with this kind of stuff: mad gods and their vessels, ancient prophecies, holy blood and the heritage that comes with it. Perhaps a normal person like him, a knight without blessings from the gods, has no place inserting himself into Robin’s story. But it doesn’t stop Silas heart from hurting when the tactician cringes, shows how disgusted he is with himself. Robin’s fear is palpable, the air tense and uncomfortable between them, and that damnable thing on the tactician’s hand isn’t helping things.

Silas reaches out and grabs Robin’s hand again, this time letting his palm cover the mark so that it’s out of sight. There. “Look… there’s a lot of things I don’t understand about the Grimleal, I’m sure. About Ylisse, about Grima, and probably least of all about you and your past. All I know is that what matters is the kind of person you are now. If your past does turn out the way you fear… what does that matter? As far as I’m aware, you’re not an evil cultist, and definitely no god’s puppet. And if you were like that in the past, from what I know of you, you’d reject that past, right? Because that’s not who you are.” Silas squeezes his hand in reassurance. “I’ll stand by you, no matter what your past ends up being. And if people do judge you for the man who were in the past rather than the man you are trying to be now… you aren’t obligated to listen to them.”

He tilts his head curiously. “Are you still worried?”

[nohrianlance]

mortal kombat

[nohrianlance]

dreamsofknighthood‌: 

As spirited as he could be, Forsyth still wasn’t used to compliments, and he felt his cheeks flush red at Silas’ approving words.

“O-oh!” he exclaimed, skipping a little in his step. “I-I thank you, Sir Silas, but I fear I am hardly worthy of such praise.” He ringed his hands together. “However, Zofian steel is strong and sturdy; we have many fine craftsmen. I daresay any lance would have trouble scratching it, let alone piercing it through.”

His mind turned to Silas’ question. It had been strange, the transition from foot soldier to cavalry. While he still fought in his heavy armour on occasion, when mounted he wore a lighter outfit more akin to a Gold Knight’s – his full Baron’s gear would be much too heavy for the poor creature, and didn’t offer him the maneuverability he needed in the saddle.

“I’m afraid I have only recently taken to riding,” he replied with a laugh. “All the more reason to practice, I suppose.” He paused. Here was a master horseman – perhaps there was a chance to learn something. “I must ask, though – are horses always so temperamental? Star can be rather stubborn; more than some soldiers, even.”

“A new cavalier?” Silas’ eyes light up in excitement. “I wish you luck in learning how to ride, then. There’s no feeling in the world that can compare to riding a horse. Of course, I grew up with horses, so I’m sure I’m biased,” he adds with a laugh. Forsyth’s question surprises him, but Silas is happy to answer him. “That depends on the horse. Some are anxious, some are ornery, and some are as sweet and friendly as a horse can be. So long as you work with your horse and earn each other’s respect and trust, I’m certain that you and your horse will be wonderful partners.”

Silas stops once he reaches the bottom of the stairs, looking out at the training pavilion in the center of Krackenburg. “Ah, here we are.” The massive statue of the Dusk Dragon watches over the pavilion, massive wings outstretched protectively, ready to sink its teeth into Nohr’s enemies. A strong fire burns at the foot of the pedestal, providing ample light for even someone from outside of Nohr. It is supported by sturdy foundations, and the bridge to the area is sturdier still, wide enough for three men to walk side by side and still be comfortably far away from the edge. Silas takes a step on the bridge and turns back to face Forsyth, making sure the Valentian knows that it’s completely safe to walk on. He offers his hand as extra reassurance. “There is little wind today, so there’s no risk of being blown off. Though if you are uneasy with heights, we can take an alternate route, or go somewhere else altogether.”

[nohrianlance]

overshot

[nohrianlance]

dreamyarcher‌: 

Keep reading

When Setsuna leaves the bed, Silas’ eyes follow her, trying to figure out what she’s getting from her things. Lubricant? Some kind of toy? The latter maybe not–Setsuna wouldn’t own any toys, right? Except that’s exactly what gets tossed onto the bed: a harness and the prosthetic that goes with it, their appearance so sudden that Silas can’t help but jump when sees them.

“...Oh.”

Silas has seen sylecōnne prosthetics before, but never actually touched one. Curiously Silas holds the prosthetic in his hand, surprised by how light it is, how soft it is to touch. And Setsuna owns this? This is Setsuna’s, and somehow not someone else’s? Setsuna’s dildo? Maybe Silas should be far less curious about who else has seen this dildo, if he is just the next person who will see Setsuna put this on herself. Or perhaps Setsuna has it for her partners to use on herself. Silas looks at the prosthetic with new eyes. Now there’s a thought.

“Have you used this before?” Silas blurts out. “I mean–I mean, in someone’s… ass? I’m not opposed to the concept, I’d just like to have some reassurance. And lubricant.”

[nohrianlance]

burn the midnight oil

[nohrianlance]

thorned-regalia‌: 

There is only a moment’s pause before he hears Silas’ hurried step, catching up and falling into place beside him in the next moment. For the most part, Xander is looking for a quiet moment to collect his thoughts when he goes on walks like these. But he doesn’t think he minds the exception this time when the form his company takes is so pleasant. Xander knows Silas to be a just knight, loyal to his cause and steadfast in the face of danger. It’s good to know he’s a decent person even outside of his duty. Or maybe that’s just the effect Corrin has on those who serve under them long enough.

Silas stops when he answers, looking for all the world like a soldier giving his report. A salute after that wouldn’t have looked out of place even with the fidgeting and nervous laughter. Xander keeps himself from smiling to keep Silas from thinking he’s being mocked, but the look on his face is far from hard. “I see. Even if it is only for the evening then, it was good of you to step in.” He starts up walking again, turns to look over at him and this time, he does smile. “I’m not about to keep you out here all night, though the gesture is appreciated.” He’s very sure Silas means it as well. But he’ll be going back inside soon and allow both himself and his guard a bit of warmth. Brew a strong tea for himself to keep awake while he works at his desk.

Silas’ heart beats a little faster when Xander smiles at him. It takes all of his sense and willpower not to grin back at the king like a complete idiot. “Ah, well, thank you anyways. I think it’ll be a while before I’ll be able to fall asleep, but when I do I think I could sleep for a year.”

At the mention of sleep, Silas feels a yawn starting to build inside of him. He looks away from Xander, keeps his mouth shut as he yawns. Right when I said that I could stay up all night, huh? Talk about bad timing.

With long legs Silas easily keeps up with Xander, letting the conversation fall to a comfortable silence as he resumes what he ought to have been doing: looking out for shadows without owners and strange noises. They will reach the next guard’s post soon, and it’s when Silas realizes that when he starts to think about his own post. Shit. If that guard sees Silas with the king, he’ll get more than an earful from the commander. “Um, milord–Your Majesty,” Silas corrects quickly. “Should I return to my post? I wasn’t, well… I wasn’t exactly supposed to leave it in the first place, but you seemed like you wanted some company.” He says so reluctantly–for a knight, there are few responsibilities more lonely than standing guard while alone, stuck in one place with only their own thoughts and cold wind for company. “Well, no… maybe it was me that wanted some company. Regardless–I’m sure the next guard would be happy to accompany you if you ask them to.”

[nohrianlance]

Beep

random text from my muse

10. A loving text

Silas comes home at 11 at night, a full hour earlier than he intended. Corrin, taking up the whole couch as they play some kind of game on their tablet, sits straight up in surprise when he gets back in their apartment. “You’re home early,” they say, putting the tablet to the side. “I thought you would at least… I don’t know, do some kind of after-movie stuff. Whatever people do on dates.”

Silas smiles weakly, only to frown again and shrug. “There wasn’t much of a reason to.”

“Ouch.” And Silas winces with them–that came out harsher than he intended. “Was it that bad?”

“No, not bad,” Silas amends. Corrin makes room for Silas on the couch, and he sits down next to them as he continues, “The poor guy was so nervous. It felt like whenever I tried to make him feel better it would make things worse. He kept talking about how glad he was I’ve never met his sister, lots of awkward stuff.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be talking about him like this. He’s a nice guy, really. Maybe the first date nerves got to him.”

Corrin nods slowly. Silas takes out his phone and pulls up his text messages with Gray, agonizing over what to say.

[Sent - 11:15PM] Hey! Thank you for the date, I had a great time. You picked a really good movie.

[Sent - 11:18PM] Maybe someday we can go out again? Just to hang out?

[nohrianlance]

*BEEP*

random text from my muse

13. A wrong number text

Like most things that end up taking up a lot of Silas’ time, this is all Corrin’s fault.

At fifteen it was an MCR concert, a taste of life without their family that they couldn’t do without the support of their closest friends. At eighteen it was too many cans of bad beer, a party that they ended up having to leave because Silas was drunk and Corrin was drunker and getting kicked out for throwing up on an overpriced rug that someone’s mom imported from Italy.

At twenty, it is the vast and exciting world of reptile videos.

[Sent - 12:13PM] you:

[Sent - 12:13PM] Bearded Dragons Tasting & Reviewing New Foods!

It is only after he sends the video that Silas realizes something was off about that message history. He checks his text messages, sees Leo’s name at the top of the list with “Bearded Dragons Tasting & Reviewing New Foods!” in the message preview, and nearly dies on the spot.

Immediately Silas deletes the texts. Hopefully Leo didn’t see. God, please, tell me Leo didn’t see.

[nohrianlance]

ooc //

hey! just want to let you guys know that my semester is ending this week (last class friday, move out saturday), so i should be active again sometime next week! unfortunately due to being busy i don’t have much done in the way of the replies i owe, so please bear with me as i recover from finals and get back into the swing of things. i plan on doing my last two text ask memes (leo and gray’s) before getting to replies, since they’re relatively easier to knock out, and then i’ll tackle my replies in the order that they came in. i have a thread tracker that you can view here if you’d like.

next up! i said in my mun bio that i was probably gonna stick to one muse. changed my mind. i’d like to pick up a new character once fe16 applications open, and in the meantime i’ve been thinking about picking up a second muse to get me used to the two-muse workload again and to make things a little more interesting. i may keep them for a short time past picking up an fe16 muse to finish up any remaining threads, but if the workload becomes too much, this second muse will be the one to drop. i’m torn between my two old muses and have my reasons for picking both of them, but i’ll let you guys know where i go with this.

thank you, and see you soon!

-bren

[valmey-me-deactivated20220510]

My last brain cell said witch Silas

[nohrianlance]

Beep

random text from my muse

28. A sarcastic text

The ranch gets slightly busier around Valentine’s Day, attracting customers that want to spend the day in an unconventional way and aren’t interested in shelling out the money to go to a fancier ranch with luxury accommodations. Silas mentioned it to Python off-handedly, but he never thought that the man would ever bring it up again. After all, Python could hardly be associated with Valentine’s Day.

Silas can’t help but smile to himself when Python describes Forsyth, how much he is interested in medieval knights and horses by association. But then he keeps going, talking about wanting to let him joust and put on his Renfair costume and make some kind of medieval themed party out of the whole affair and oh, by the way, is there any way you can put in a friends and family discount for poor ol’ Python?

[Sent - 11:59PM] Python, I work in a Catholic horse ranch, not Medieval Times.

[nohrianlance]

Beep!

random text from my muse

9. A concerned text

Saizo souring the mood isn’t uncommon, but there was something about what he said that seemed to upset Setsuna more than usual. Silas hadn’t noticed–he should have, he thinks as soon as he realizes why Setsuna acted stranger than usual after Saizo’s remark.

Would Setsuna rather he leave it alone? But in Silas’ mind that’s not right, he needs to talk to his friend and make sure she’s okay. He wrestles between his choices for hours until he finally bites the bullet and sends a text. 

[Sent - 12:02PM] Hey. You busy?

[Sent - 12:03PM] I want to talk to you about yesterday.

When Silas returns to his phone near the end of his lunch break, he sees no response, but instead a checkmark, Read 12:30PM in small letters underneath his text. He sighs and types out another text. It’s not in his nature to assume the worst in people. And if she’s mad at him and left him on read deliberately, well, she’s probably right to be. It’s taken this long for him to reach out after all.

[Sent - 1:03PM] I know you like to play dumb when someone hurts your feelings or crosses a line with you. You were doing that yesterday with Saizo.

[Sent - 1:04PM] I think

[Sent - 1:05PM] You shouldn’t put up a front. If you’re upset with someone, you should stand up for yourself, be honest, and tell them. 

[Sent - 1:08PM] Being passive-aggressive and holding your negative feelings inside doesn’t help anyone, least of all you.

[Sent - 1:09PM] If you need to talk or vent or anythig, I’m here for you, okay? 

[Sent - 1:09PM] *anything

[nohrianlance]

Beep~

random text from my muse

19. A bad idea text

Silas pushes the files of paperwork to the side so that he can text more comfortably at his desk. Leanne’s plight is far more engaging than punching in some numbers on a spreadsheet. She’s stuck in a parking lot, her keys and purse trapped inside of her locked car. With Silas in the middle of his shift, he can only sit here and throw suggestions out at her.

They started out sensible enough.

[Sent - 1:27PM] I think you’re supposed to call someone for that. A locksmith or someone like that.

But with every option Leanne turns down, Silas’ suggestions become worse and worse.

[Sent - 1:43PM] You can buy something from Kohl’s and use the hanger to get yourself in.

[Sent - 1:43PM] Wait, your wallet’s in the car, nvm

Until finally:

[Sent - 1:44PM] Have you tried punching the glass?

[rpmemesandmusings]

SEND “BEEP” FOR A RANDOM TEXT FROM MY MUSE.

I’ll randomly generate a number between 1-29 for one of the following:

A funny text

A sad text

A scared text

A late night text

An excited text

A taunting text

An angry text

A frustrated text

A concerned text

A loving text

A confession via text

An accidental text

A wrong number text

A text that wasn’t sent

A text for help

A helpful text

A comforting text

A drunk text

A bad idea text

A rude text

A long text

A one word text

A text asking for advice

A final text

A flirty text

A hyper text

A weird text

A sarcastic text

A heartbreaking text