#[support] leif

[hana-bobo-finch]

I had to cut this brief interaction out of a fic because it didn’t fit well but I was sad to see it go soooo

“Let’s not argue, team,” Kabbu interjected. He pulled Vi to the side.

“You must be more understanding of Leif, Vi,” he said. Vi scoffed, but didn’t counteract his words. “He does not always understand what you mean. He is neurodivergent.”

“Oh,” Vi muttered.

“What the fuck is a neurodivergent?” Leif interrupted, seemingly materializing out of thin air next to them.

[dantes-number-1-fanboy]

I also like My inner demons :)

[xerith-42]

My Inner Demons Stoner Headcanons

Part 3 in my Stoner Headcanons series!

Fuck you I love this show and think it's the perfect setting for stupid shenanigans like this

Leif learns what weed is from TV (mainly cop shows) and knows Ava won't answer if he asks so he just asks Mrs Oats when Ava isn't around and she gives him some because she just has a medical card.

Leif fucking loves it. My man has such a hard time relaxing because he is always ready for a threat, always ready to kill, that he's honestly forgot what real relaxation feels like until this funny little plant turns his brain off.

He shows it to Asch first, who quite enjoys the ability to actually lower his guard. That and they don't have to use the lighter that still doesn't make sense. They can just have Asch light the blunt.

Rhys catches them smoking one time, but Leif is so chilled out he just passes the joint to Rhys and badly explains how to use it. Rhys does not have a good time initially, but he eventually settles into it. He decides he likes second hand smoke more than ingesting it directly

Noi is scared of smoking because his body is already considerably weaker due to his lack of magic. He's too scared to bring this up because he doesn't think there's an alternative, but Mrs. Oats leaves them a goody basket one day, saying she made too many sweets to eat on her own. There's a bag of "special" gummy bears for Noi.

Now I'm imaging Noi eating like 20 of them and not realizing they were edibles and going straight to god. Like he's just lying in his bed thinking about Ava, he blinks and then he just sees the portal of truth.

Pierce is the last to discover it, and he never voices an opinion on it. If he happens to walk into the room where it's being smoked, he'll join the rotation for a hit or two, but then he just leaves. He lies to lie on the floor of Ava's apartment with Johnny on his lap and just relax. Ava's caught him, but he's usually asleep, so she doesn't realize he's baked as fuck in his dreams.

The plot twist is that Ava has a medical card she just has to keep it hella on the down low for her dad's campaign. He wants to make it legal recreational, but until then, she has to be fuckin chill about it. One time Leif walks into her room without knocking to ask her something and despite everything seeming normal, he stops and then sniffs the air. And then he sees Ava's slightly bloodshot eyes.

I feel like Lorelei isn't an active stoner, she's the kind of person who only smokes around her friends who smoke. She never smoked it with Ava (because Ava's actually really good about hiding it), but one time she visits Ava's apartment and catches Leif about to duck into the portal to their place and he has a fresh joint in his hand. Instead of just smoking it on his own, Leif actually smokes it with her and hotboxes Ava's bathroom.

Oh god Ava getting sick at the festival because she took a hit off a vape before going on a roller coaster the fuckin dumb ass.

When they're forced to go back home Leif is pissed for a lot of reasons, but partially because he doesn't have his stash on him :(

[machiot]

@pirrhyc sent:

“ Ah! I'm sorry! ”‎‎‎ ‎ Fortunately for Pelleas, when he had accidentally bumped into a server and then spilled his drink, it at best only splashed a little bit on Marni's shoe rather than over her entire ensemble. However, it still did hit her a bit, and there's just something that tells him that he'd regret it if he went without expressing some kind of apology.

“ I, er, have a handkerchief. Hold one moment, please, ”‎ ‎ he asks, kneeling down and taking out his handkerchief to wipe at the front of her shoes.‎ ‎ “ Hopefully that shouldn't leave any residue or… ”

He stares up at her.

“ Oh no. You're angry with me, aren't you? I'm sorry, I really am! ”

Marni's presence is, in a word, loud. She would prefer the term "eye-catching", but the fact remains that generally speaking, she tends to draw a lot of attention. This is by design, of course. She likes the attention, likes the way that people acknowledge her if she dresses flashily. Even if people give her a wide berth, it just means they're paying attention to her.

This is also why she doesn't expect anyone to bump into her.

It's not really a big spill and it's hardly even noticeable against the dark leather of her shoes. What bothers her is the fact that it happened at all.

"What, you've got all that height and you can't even use it to watch out for people?" Marni taunts, staring down at the man's sullen face. "What were you gonna do if you got it on the white parts, huh? Woulda offered me your neck?"

This guy is just like her brothers; bumbling, utterly incompetent, and a total loser. What, by all means, had been just a simple accident now makes her grind her teeth.

She holds out her hand. "Yeah, I'm super angry. I see you have a feather. Gimme it."

[anruraiocht]

@hosannan sent:

"...Ah, there you are." This is no corridor nor trick of light, and there is no slipping away from a party of grandeur. "Miranda, are you well?" You have never found a way to meet this girl down the middle, and you know that every "too late" is spiked with "are" "you" "sure?" You suspect a great many things, but you know in your heart that nothing is concrete. "I spoke this winter about a letter I was to give you... And a gift." Nanna never got to give it to her.

It is ok if they are so similar, that nothing works out. It is also okay that they are so different, that nothing works out. They are deprived of a great many things, but Nanna still wants to be sure. So sure, that she can walk herself into a sleep, unrestless.

"Here." A handkerchief with poorly embroidered letters is wrapped up in lace and tissue paper. Miranda's initials are inscribed, by Nanna's hands. Well. A younger Nanna. A Nanna that had no chance to really say goodbye.

And in the letter:

Hello! Thank you for being my friend all those years ago, Miranda. I'll keep it short, to spare your time. But, I want nothing more than to write to you. And have more to write about in the future. Attached is a handkerchief that I... well. I tried to embroider. Many, many years ago. It's a shame I never got it to you. I was

She paused, thinking about her word choice. Then she thought it wouldn't hurt to admit to someone who knew her back then. "...a very shy little girl." You continue.

Though you are under no obligation to write back, know that I was fond of our time together. Am fond of our time together. Even if it is just you standing an entire grass field away from me, brandishing your fire. With warmth, Nanna.

Miranda tries not to have expectations. Every promise made to her eventually becomes a sheepish smile when it is inevitably time to break it. This will all end soon. It will only be for a short while. Talk to you soon. Tomorrow for sure.

And so on and so forth.

So she doesn't expect anything from Nanna. (She wants to hear from her.) It had been an empty platitude like always. (What if it wasn't this time?) There's no point in getting her hopes up for nothing. (Even if it's nothing, she'll still wait.)

"Princess Nanna." Her speech is formal to Nanna's more informal; a stiff insistence on titles, an intentional sense of distance. "I have been well. And you?"

On any other day, the interaction would have been over, customary salutations exchanged. But there is no running from a ball. Even if she did, she already knows she isn't the kind of princess who gets chased after when the ball is over. She does not linger on the mind once out of eyeshot the way Nanna does.

Miranda tries not to hold expectations, but her useless heart still clings on to the hope that this time she will be remembered.

"You didn't have-" she starts, but the rest of her protest dies on her tongue as she meekly accepts the letter and handkerchief. "No, I will accept it. Thank you. Do you mind if I read it now?"

The handkerchief is clumsily embroidered by the hand of a child, but no less heartfully made. She can imagine Nanna hiding away somewhere in an unfamiliar castle stitching under the light of a candle. The imagery is clear in her mind because she had done the same herself to pass the time. The difference is that Miranda had thrown away all evidence of her efforts, a refusal for anything less than perfect leaving behind nothing to show for it.

Miranda turns to the letter next, umber eyes scanning the lovingly penned words. It immediately becomes clear to her that she should have waited until later to read it, should have taken it back to her room where she could read it where no one could see. Tears gather in her eyes and neither wanting to soil the sleeves of her dress or her new handkerchief, there is nowhere for the tears to go than to streak down her cheeks.

She clears her throat, but her voice still wobbles, "Ahem. I will write you a reply back. O-only if you are truly interested, however! If you aren't, then just pretend I said nothing!"

She can feel her cheeks heating up, so she must look even worse now. There's nothing that she wants more to run away and deal with her emotions alone, but she takes a hesitant step towards Nanna instead.

"...Black doesn't suit you," she murmurs, speaking of her pendant. She affixes her own crystalline pendant to Nanna's dress. "I have nothing white to offer, so this will have to do for now."

[leifandthorn]

The campaign to print Leif & Thorn Volume 7 is here!

Run, don't walk, to BackerKit and preorder yours now.

[mariocki]

Night Monster (1942)

"Why don't you have Millie do that, Miss Judd? That's a maid's work, not a housekeeper's. You needn't answer because I know the reason: that spot under your hand is blood and you didn't want anyone to know."

"Blood? Ridiculous."

"Yes, it is ridiculous. It couldn't be blood, but it is. I've seen those spots before and I've seen you trying to scrub them out because you knew what they were. Blood, the whole house reeks of it. The air is charged with death and hatred and something that's unclean!"

[ladyzerodark]

Probably unpopular opinion: if any of the new Volt/ron characters were to be in Super Robot Wars, I'd want only Pidge, Allura, and Krolia. Would it make zero sense not to have the boys? Probably. But these three deserve more love than they got.

Though if Krolia showed up, Keith can also show up to have some mother-son bonding. As a treat.

[livingrief]

“ Finn, ”  Leif calls out to his father's knight. The past couple times they have interacted have been rocky. Well, that's been true for all their lives, hasn't it been? But still, despite the rocky cliff face, Leif still makes the effort to climb again and again. It could be foolishness. It could be stupidity. But no matter what it is, Leif still feels the desire to try.

“ Before you started taking care of me, how did you want to spend the Winter Festival? ”  It's today, after all. When he was younger, he hadn't thought to ask, there being hardly any room to celebrate during the years they were merely fending for their lives whilst on the run.  “ Festivals like these remind me of Fiana. They didn't have much, but they festivals they put on... I still liked them. I liked Fiana. ”

He's probably stating the obvious. He knows that. Yet still he does it.

“ Fish makes me think of Fiana since we had it. I hardly know how you felt about that place but... I liked that place because you were there with me, Finn, and we both got to live normally. So I caught you some fish to make it feel like we're there again! ”

But they're not. It's been quite some time since they last have been. But he still tries. Unlike the big feast he had tried to make of his dish at the banquet, the dish Leif holds out for Finn to celebrate the Winter Festival today is much more humble, much easier to carry in how it's been prepared.

“ Won't you eat with me and Nanna today?? ”

It is perhaps foolish to ask for them to be a family, hardly fitting it before, but still Leif selfishly asks so anyway, even though he had had a feeling that what Finn might want could be something else entirely. In a world where there was no Leif Faris Claus, where would Sir Finn go? Leif asks, but he knows he doesn't really want to know.

There is a part of him that is still a child, and that child clings to the metaphorical sleeve of his knight, asking him to not go, asking to emulate the tales of warm dinner tables and warmer smiles on a festive holiday night.

It's the winter festival. Today should bring happier times but such things are beyond him. The bright white of the sky begets a culling that perhaps, if he should close his eyes, all else would fade out....

But it does not. Even with eyes closed, he soon notices the approach of someone else along with a voice. Lord Leif. Had he done something to bother him?

Eyes open and Finn turns around to face his liege. It could very well be a serious matter. But Lord Leif does not have the look of a stern ruler on his face, but rather the young boy from all those years past. Finn's curiosity piques, yet he also hopes not to ruin things. He is not stupid. Finn knows that with his damp and dark expression, little would seek him out. "Lord Leif- "

But Lord Leif is all innocent questions. How did he spend the winter festival before? The question takes him by surprise. He had hardly thought about such things in years. Of course, by Lord Quan's side.....

Finn nearly blanks out. It is too much to recall too soon. But Lord Leif responds with more words. Of Fiana.  "Ah, Fiana, yes..."

Yes, Fiana. Finn did like that place. He felt safe, safer than he ever did on the run all those years, never sure if he could actually do his duty. He found capable comrades - those he could entrust his back to. In truth, the time in Fiana did really seem like a dream compared to all the rest. The few times in between when he could live and die like a man.

But fish? The idea is interesting. Finn never gave it much thought as to what he ate. He was grateful if he had the ability to even eat, after all. Then again, he did suppose Fiana was a fisherman's village. But he had no preference for any substance. Perhaps this is something that meant more to Lord Leif?

Most likely. He still struggles to understand, to really know the young man he called his liege, but perhaps if Lord Leif was trying so hard... He may as well listen.  Though strange of him to bring up Nanna as well. Was he trying to invoke the time of them all together back then? Finn thought that they were all past it. He certainly was not, a ghost stuck in the past,but... For some reason unbeknownst to the knight, a small, nostalgic smile breaks through his ice-cold and stern features. "Very well," he acquiesces. "Let us eat the fish and remember Fiana...." How strange, that Lord Leif and him would want the same thing. Though Finn's heart would always yearn to be at Lord Quan's side, he could not deny the love he had for that tiny village. The warmth and security he developed for Fiana, it was something only someone else from there could understand. But what he does not understand is why Lord Leif wishes to spend the winter festival with him. Why seek that out at all. If he merely missed Fiana, he could have spoken to Nanna instead....

But Finn chooses not to broach the subject. Not for today at least. Lord Leif seemed so happy, after all. He was tired. Tired of doing everything wrong and being everything wrong. "Well, you should go fetch Nanna, then. Let us sit together and eat, like old times." He knows not why his heart aches but it does. For an older time when Leif and Nanna were still little and he could protect them under his wing.  Why would he miss such a thing? Well, it's not like they needed him anymore.....

[laslow]

Happy Leif Leonster Day!

> starter for: @ashenprofessor

It takes some time and a little help from the more covert members of the Knights, but you finally get a lead into who is organizing this ring. This information takes you to Arianrhod, where you will meet a priestly “Dragon” holding auditions for a Leif to add in their crew of characters. They don’t particularly care what you look like, but two things are non-negotiable: a boyish attitude and proficiency in a variety of weapons. This could be the chance you need to infiltrate the group, if you manage to impress him. [Grants Any Weapon +1]

They say imitation is a form of flattery. Laslow doesn’t believe it, not when this form of imitation is ruining the reputation of some of the most famous people in history. 

At least the stakes of this new away mission are far less dire than Rusalka’s. No dreams involved, just some good old fashioned smooth talking. Rain pours heavily down on Arianrhod when he arrives with Professor Byleth and a group of knights in tow. According to the information they’d acquired, this Dragon only holds auditions under cover of night, cause that’s totally not suspicious. For such an organized crime ring, you’d think they’d be a little more creative with their recruitment methods. 

There’s still a few hours until true dark, though it’s hard to tell with the heavy clouds blotting out the sky. He cinches his sword belt on, then slips a hand axe through a loop on the opposite side of his sheath. Finally, he threads an arm through a bow, quiver already strapped to his back. He’ll have to carry the lance, though he hopes he won’t actually have to use the ungainly thing. 

“Well, Byleth? Think I look convincing enough?” Swordsman turns to the other professor, showing off his fearsome weapon collection. “Can’t do anything about my hair, I’m afraid. Who says Leif didn’t have pink hair, eh?” 

[mantisgodsdomain]

I feel like doctor H.B. Would be part of the “attracted to the horrors” therapy group because while I don’t have anything specific in mind she’s definitely the type and if nothing else she’d do it for science.

...yeah you're right we have one(1) applicable AU we can import her from.

[sacaeblade]

@diadic asked:

[ Wish ] - Off to the side there is a lonely well. Perhaps if you toss in a coin and keep it company for a moment, it will grant you a wish? 

“ Lyn! ” he greets her, a bit surprised to see her dressed as she was. She didn't give off the vibe of someone into big ballroom affairs when they've met prior, but he supposes he was in the same boat. Their both being here off to the side by the wishing well might have something to do then with that.

If she was here for some quiet away from the hustle and bustle of the ball, then he couldn't blame her. He was too. Once a greeting handshake was over with, a habit he had gained from his misadventures around the ballroom all night, ( the flowers upon their necklaces bloom to remind him of his goal, almost forgotten in his surprise ) he peers back to the focal point of this little corner.

“ I wish wishing wells didn't require money. Isn't it possible there's someone just going in to steal the coins at the bottom? ” A frown makes itself known on his face. “ From there, where would wishes go?? ”

"Leif!"

She shakes hands with the other Golden Deer, a habitual action by this point in the night. She'll probably be instinctively shaking hands with other people for the rest of the week.

Leif brings up a good point, though. Why do wishing wells require money? Functionally, wishing wasn't all that much different from praying. When she prayed to the land and stars each day, wasn't that also wishing, of a sort?

"Maybe it's the action of parting with your money that delivers your wish? Or maybe once a certain amount of coins are tossed in, the spirits choose a random wish to fulfill."

They're all rhetorical questions, of course. It's impossible for either of them (or anyone, really, besides whatever gods or spirits granted wishes) to know the how and why behind something as enigmatic as wishes. Still, there's nothing wrong with tossing around theories.

At the bottom of the well, moonlight glints off the coins that rest under the water's surface. There's no telling exactly how much gold sat at the bottom of the well; there could be a few coins or there could be a whole treasure trove down there hidden by the darkness.

Lyn leans back away from the well and says, "I guess the only thing stopping someone from stealing the coins is actually getting down there. I don't think I would take them even if I could, though. Carrying around other people's wishes with you...that's a pretty heavy burden."

[luliho]

It's that time of year again

[anruraiocht]

Once, there was probably a plan for the two of them to spend their festivals like this. He knows Ulster's council had wanted them married after Leonster's liberation, but a part of him wonders if it had gone back even farther than that. When he had been taken to her home the first time, had it been done with the idea that it would be a bride's family protecting her groom? Their fates had been written long in advance, but to what detail? To what end?

What picture had the people of Leonster and Ulster drawn for the two of them, and how far had they deviated from it in truth?

“ Miranda, ”  he calls out her name.  “ It's the Winter Festival. ”  He wonders if she'll grow a bit exasperated with him for spelling it out like that for her. At what point had he begun to anticipate her responses? He hardly knew her in their youth, and their reunion had proven that too. Every moment seemed so unpredictable, a storm that he had to brave and temper with each thing she yelled out at him or expected of him...

But now? The tempest... it has calmed. She still has her bark and her bite, but somehow, he flinches at it a little less now. It is just a part of her, and he thinks he knows her a little better now even if it's not to the extent that the people had once planned out for them.

“ I got you something. ”  He holds out a gift wrapped box for her, and when she opens it, what lies inside is a thin gold circlet bearing a small green gem in the center. It is not too unlike the headband she wears over her forehead in battle, but it has an elegance to it less befitting a battlefield and more befitting a ballroom.  “ I don't know if you'll like it, but... ”

It was his fault that she had taken on all this rage. It was his fault that she had committed herself to this life, that inferno in war desperate to claim all that she had lost. In her, he sees a bit of himself.

But the times are changing. They are moving from war to peace, and just as he must step into his role as a prince, she too must return to being a princess. He cannot claim to know the future, but he can attempt to have a hand in it. He gifts her this symbol of peace, knowing it can never be enough to make up for all that his existence has taken away from her in the past.

But at the end of the day, he tries to tell her one thing through it: that he sees her not as a fool but instead as a girl.

When she was younger, her mother had asked her if there was anything she wanted to get for Leif for the Winter Festival and Miranda had rattled off a long list of things. The situation necessitated that they never ended up spending a single festival together, of course, but she was young and it was fun to imagine picking out gifts for the friends who had come to her house.

Now, years later, for the first time they are able to celebrate the Winter Festival for the first time and Miranda doesn't have a single idea of what to get Leif. Unclouded by the rose-tinted glasses of childhood, is there a single thing she knows about him? His likes? His dislikes? All of the things she had wanted to give him in the past no longer felt suitable, so she gets him nothing at all.

Just as he expected, Miranda shoots him a withering look. "I am well aware that it is the Winter Festival, Prince Leif. I do own a calendar, you know."

She isn't actually mad. She hasn't truly been mad at him for a very long time. Annoyed, maybe. He does have a way of getting on her nerves, but she no longer curses his very existence.

(Maybe she still does sometimes. She doesn't really mean it, though. Not like she did before.)

In her fifteenth year, the wounds on her heart had bled and bled and bled. By the next year, a painful scab had formed that she couldn't help from picking at until the bleeding began again. Eventually, though, her hands stop finding their way to pick at the scabs during idle moments. Left untouched, the scabs will one day heal into scars. Messy, jagged scars that would never disappear completely, but nevertheless they would eventually fade until there are nothing but thin white lines.

"You got me a gift?" The 'why' and 'what are your intentions' are left unspoken, but nevertheless abundantly clear from her expression. "I will be the judge of whether I like it or not, so hand it over."

The circlet is a dainty little thing, the kind of jewelry that she would have worn if things hadn't gone horribly wrong. Rather than the kind of tiara that doubled as armor, she would have worn something pretty and delicate like this. She would have kept her hair long and worn a dress that complimented the gold and green of the jewelry. She would have gone to show her parents: see, look, I'm a girl who suits these kinds of things, too.

Holding it now in her hand, she fears it is much too delicate for her. She hadn't become the kind of girl that suited something like this in the end, something that could very well snap if she put the tiniest bit of pressure on it. If it snapped, she could try putting it together again, but it would never be the same.

It doesn't, though, because she holds it preciously in her hand.

"It's fine, I suppose," she concedes. A beat passes before she says the words she truly means. "...Thank you, Prince Leif."

She doesn't try it on now, but later in her room she will replace her usual tiara with the circlet and look at herself in the mirror. It's different, but maybe different is okay.

[leifandthorn]

Cover art for Leif & Thorn Volume 6!

This started with a “mini mockups where I tinker with layout possibilities” post on Patreon. Was shared in a double cover reveal (two variants! This was the favorite) on the comic website.

And the crowdfunding campaign where you can get the book is now live!

[princepsumbra]

Turning over a new Leif

>starter for: @amitieos

It takes some time and a little help from the more covert members of the Knights, but you finally get a lead into who is organizing this ring. This information takes you to Arianrhod, where you will meet a priestly “Dragon” holding auditions for a Leif to add in their crew of characters. They don’t particularly care what you look like, but two things are non-negotiable: a boyish attitude and proficiency in a variety of weapons. This could be the chance you need to infiltrate the group, if you manage to impress him. [Grants Any Weapon +1]

Every shred of information about this ring of imposters reeks of fools searching for a quick way to earn some extra coin. Disgraceful, using famous names and taking advantage of unsuspecting people.

Naturally, he jumps at the chance to meet the supposed leader. Calling themselves “Dragon” is audacious at best, a terrible joke at worst. The church pairs him with Queen Elincia when they brief him. Good; a level head is exactly what he needs on an infiltration. 

Their arrival is marked by rain, flooded streets, and delayed support from the monastery itself. A decoy was supposed to arrive, pose as the false Leif while Leo and Elincia work on rounding up the rabble. 

“No,” Leo says flatly when the costume is thrust in front of him. A harried church messenger just sighs, brown hair still plastered to his forehead. 

“We’ll loose our chance at stopping this otherwise. I’m just the guy who delivers the news. Take it up with Seteth when you get back.” Costume is deposited unceremoniously on a nearby table before the messenger bows and then departs. 

Nohrian sighs through his nose, glaring at the messenger’s retreating back. Rationally, he knows waiting will only embolden the imposters. No other choice but making an utter fool of himself lays before him. 

“…Not a word of this to anyone in the monastery, Lady Elincia.”