#my nivannedy fics

[fonulyn]

When Chris Redfield goes missing, Piers Nivans is tasked with the most difficult mission in his life so far: he has to tell Leon Kennedy that the wedding is off, that her fiancé is nowhere to be found. He has no idea that by doing that, he sets in motion over a decade of growth and change, as he and Leon find their way to their own happy ending. Together.

[silvercap]

"We can't keep doing this" and make it as self indulgent and whumpy as possible? :3

Oh, you got it ;)

(Prompts)

Piers can hear Leon screaming even from where he sits in the cement-walled cell; horrible, raspy cries that break raggedly and trail off as they torture him again for what must be the fifth day in a row. His own body still aches from this morning's beating, electrical burns from the high-powered cattle prods they'd used on him yesterday stretching painfully when he shifts. He flinches as another cry cuts through the air, harsher than the last, muscles tensing when it ends so abruptly that its source could only have passed out... or been strangled, or dunked underwater, or really, any myriad of horrible, silencing things.

Piers tries not to think about it.

Silence buzzes against his ears as Piers shivers and closes his eyes, the distant sound of footsteps soon growing louder and louder until Piers can hear the telltale screech of the cell door unlocking and knows they're bringing Leon back. Faint, pained whimpers are audible over the din, two large men barging in the moment it's open to dump Leon's battered body on the cement unceremoniously, limbs flopping to the side as he lands hard on his back. He's concerningly limp, and Piers' hands are on his shoulders before the men even have a chance to lock the cell again.

"It's just me," he soothes when Leon groans low in his throat, head lolling backwards until Piers settles it in his lap to prop it up and cradle it away from the floor. A bloodied, trembling hand lifts up from Leon's side, fingers grasping blindly in the air until Piers intertwines their palms and pulls Leon's hand close enough to plant a kiss on his knuckles. Glassy eyes slit open at the touch, sweat gleaming on Leon's forehead as he attempts to shift and whines in agony instead. Piers tuts worriedly, placing the back of his hand delicately on Leon's bare, bruised collarbone. "Your fever's gotten worse."

"Tellin' ya it's nothin'," Leon slurs out hoarsely, chest shuddering as it rises and falls in an uneven rhythm. He tilts his head to the side, jaw clenched as he winces. "It's probably just th' stress."

Piers reaches for the bandages wrapped around Leon's unclothed thigh, just below the bloodied edge of his boxers, grimacing when he lifts them to see the inflamed, oozing wound from when they'd first been captured. BOW claws are a bitch to keep clean at the best of times---without antibiotics, or fresh fabric to change out the dressings, Leon will need to rely on his immune system alone to carry him through the infection. It had begun several days ago now, and his skin is still burning up.

"We can't keep doing this," Piers whispers, Leon's laboured breaths echoing over the stone. There's a dirtied blanket in the corner of the cell that he'll move Leon to in a moment so that he can rest, but Piers' limbs have suddenly gone just as jellied and exhausted as Leon's. "It's going to kill you, and I won't be far behind. We have to---to get out of here, or at least figure out what they're looking for."

Leon's bare legs kick aimlessly in a sluggish attempt to distract himself from the pain that must be blossoming from every part of his body, not a single inch of skin left unblemished or unabused. They'd tried water torture yesterday, Piers' own lungs still aching from the strain. Peeling nails the day before that. Where does it end?

"Mm," Leon hums, eyes already slipping closed. Piers is worried about the sickly cast to his features, eyes sunken and cheeks flushed. He strokes Leon's cheek as the man goes almost entirely slack, lashes fluttering uselessly as he tries and fails to stay awake.

"Get some rest," Piers says, hearing the hallway door clang distance, the men surely preparing to return and take him for his own session in an hour or two. They like to start with Leon because he's already ailing and can't fight back, the sick fucks. "I'll watch the door."

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day Five

Another one written while half-asleep, but enjoy some pre-Nivannedy for @nivannedyweek.

DAY 5: Vendetta

It was a little funny, Piers Nivans mused, watching the medic work on Leon Kennedy’s arm. Or, at least, try to work on his arm. The older man was bruised and battered and was probably going to feel like hell the next day, but he seemed more relaxed now than when they had found him in the bar. Not happy, no, but calmer.

Of course, since this wasn’t the first time they had interrupted him on one of his rare vacations, Piers supposed it wasn’t that odd that Leon had been pissed. His sharp sarcasm was better than a knife to the face, at least.

“My arm is fine,” Leon was saying, wiggling away from the medic. He reminded Piers of a toddler. A tall, deadly toddler. “I already checked it out.”

The medic’s exasperated face fit someone dealing with a toddler. Piers couldn’t remember her name. She was new, so she wasn’t used to annoyed government agents. Chris grew stubborn and sullen when pushed too hard, but Leon? Piers expected Leon to vanish the moment she looked away from him, injuries or no.

Fortunately, Piers was used to working with annoyed government agents. He knelt beside the pair and offered the poor medic an apologetic smile. “I’ll take it from here. I’m trained.”

Trained as a medic and in handling stubborn asses. By the look on the medic’s face and her droll, “All yours,” she knew exactly what Piers meant.

After she left, Piers raised an eyebrow at Leon. “Do you need help taking off your jacket or…?”

Leon rolled his eyes at Piers and didn’t move. “It’s fine. My shoulder was dislocated but I took care of it.”

His shoulder was…

Sometimes, Piers thought that Chris had nothing on Leon Kennedy. “Leon.”

“Piers,” Leon retorted. He smiled with too many teeth. “It’s not my shoulder that’s bothering me. It’s the hangover.”

All right. Despite his calmer attitude, Leon was still pissed. Piers couldn’t blame him, but a dislocated shoulder was no laughing matter. Fine.

“You need help with the jacket then,” Piers said. He didn’t flinch at Leon’s glare, having already dealt with Chris Redfield at his worst. No matter how cranky Leon felt, he was always kind at heart. When Piers reached for Leon’s jacket, the man grumbled but relented. His wince was small but visible when Piers helped him pull the jacket away from his wounded arm.

You aren’t alone, Piers wanted to say as he examined Leon’s sore shoulder. He didn’t say it. They both knew that, in far too many ways, Leon was. They found him alone in that bar for a reason. Piers still didn’t know the full story about what happened, and he doubted that he ever would.

I’m here, Piers wanted to say, but Leon knew that. Otherwise, he wouldn’t let Piers even this close.

I want to help. Don’t go down that path alone.

Piers bit his tongue against the last one. He felt like he and Leon had been teetering on something ever since they survived China and the C-Virus, but work demanded too much of them and he didn’t know how much Leon had to give. Right now, when Leon was emotionally and physically wrung out and was dealing with a hangover on top of a dislocated shoulder, was not the right time.

“At least your jacket survived this time,” Piers said instead.

Leon scoffed at him, but his mouth relaxed into an almost smile. Perhaps he heard everything unsaid. Leon was always good at that. “Barely. How about you buy me a new one? I think there’s a shop or two which survived this.”

Piers hid his own smile. “Sure. Let’s find one which will match your new sling.”

“I don’t need a sling!”

Maybe one day they could have that conversation. After the sling conversation and the stink of alcohol and blood faded. Someday. Piers took Leon’s bright eyes and the relaxed curve of his mouth as a win even as he prepared for the sling argument. 

It was a good thing he had experience with stubborn government agents.

“I bet we can even find a black one for you.”

“Find one in leather and you have a deal.”

[silvercap-art]

Leon and Piers as they're gonna appear in one of my upcoming fics!! Playing around with materials and I like how they came out!

[colesabi]

2024 Year In Review

Wow. 2024 was quite the year. It’s the first full year I’ve been back on tumblr consistently. It’s the first year I’ve also been consistently writing. I got into PT school. I got engaged. It’s been full of some high highs and some low lows. I found a community here that I cherish so much and frankly a reason to get up every morning. I spent a shitload of money on dolls… and you all supported that; so thank you. I don’t intend to stop doing that, so RIP my bank account…

I wrote so much this year. More than I’ve ever written before. I’ve finished 9 full stories. Wrote my first multi-chapter piece EVER; then wrote 3 more. I’ve shared random WIPs on here and gotten feedback and encouragement where I’ve never had before. You guys are so encouraging and lovely and I cherish that I can literally post something insane and you all just accept me for the deranged psychopath that I am. :3

I have no idea what 2025 has in store for me. I know it’s going to be busy and hectic (I start PT school in the fall) but I hope to stay engaged here and support and keep on being me, so look forward to that lol. 

Fic wise, I have plenty of WIPs in my inventory and am actively working on the honeypot sequel. Besides that, I have some goals to write some other ships, including Metaltango, Nivannedy and maybe Serennedy. I have some plans to go a little outside my comfort zone, so we’ll see how that goes but overall, I’m excited for some new opportunities in the new year and sharing that all with you guys. 

Okay, now I’m crying. 

Alright, now for the statistics I guess. 

2024 Fic in Review

Word Count: 113,069

Pairing/Character Breakdown

8 Leon/Chris

1 Leon-centric

Chreon

When Time Runs Out (E) 22k || What happens when Leon has outgrown his usefulness?

Fragment (M) 12k || It sticks with you (f/u to WTRO)

The After (E) 12k || a series of short stories (prompt based)

Home (M) 1.4k || All it takes is one word to completely upend everything. (MCD)

For Those Who Go Seeking (E) 32k || Leon is not sure how he woke up in a body bag in a morgue with no recollection of how he found himself in his current predicament but he’s quite sure something is very, very wrong.

Worst Nightmare (M) under 1k || Chris can’t shake the feeling.

Operation: Cobalt Saber (E) 25k || “It is my understanding that you and one of their captains have gotten quite close. Oh, what’s his name…” Simmons says, almost nonchalantly, one hand raising in the air to snap the middle and thumb together repetitively. It makes Leon flinch, the gesture and the man’s tone causing his stomach to drop with the implications. “Chris Redfield! Yes, that’s it.” He exclaims suddenly, a sneer spreading across his face as he finally lifts his gaze from the folder. Oh— Leon doesn’t like this. (or the Chreon honeypot)

Caught in the Interval (E) 3.5k || After the events of New York, Leon foolishly kisses Chris outside his hotel room. What follows is a chain of events Leon hadn’t considered as a possibility.

Leon-centric

Under The Skin (M) 2k || Months after the events of Valdelobos, Spain, a lingering unease begins to surface.

[phoenixmetaphor]

Last Line Challenge!!!

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

i was tagged by the talented @alvivaarts !!! thanks so much for thinking of me <3

since i emerged from my long dormancy, i don’t know a large amount of people i know to be active buttttt i will try tagging @sinnabum45 [been loving your recent narumitsu], @californiatowhee [ditto bestie], @silvercap [art or writing?], and @thebrandywine [i mean i’d tag you in this post anyway, so….]. feel free to ignore if this ain’t your thing~~~

anyways here’s a page of preliminary sketches for a comic based on @thebrandywine ‘s [pull me under], a nivannedy mermaid au fic that has given me brainworms (told you i’d be tagging you in regardless, mav)

i don’t usually share at this stage because it’s all very rough and i only need it to make sense to me, which is why there are like… stick figures and also why I just freely write and draw over other writings and drawings. and i’m not sure this will go all the way to a finished state, if all these panels will make it, and if they will be in this order (i’ve already changed some things up…). like right now i am sort of unhappy with the sameness of all the head shots but … we’ll see, we’ll see.

also if all the pen scratches and scribbles didn’t give it away, this is done traditionally, mostly to force myself to just restart something that’s not working rather than attempting to noodle with it endlessly, which is a pitfall I can fall into with digital sketching. i really should not have used this particular ink tho, it has shimmer and it was clogging my pen something fierce x.x

[thebrandywine]

20 Questions for Fic Authors

@catgirladjacent tagged me! and i like to infodump! let's go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

97 including some that are under pseuds, though I did orphan a few once I started fixating on Resident Evil more fully. I was embarrassed lmao

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

865,796 o__o

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Resident Evil exclusively now!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

don't worry about this one cuz it's under a pseud lol

[every picture tells a story], 387 kudos

[lantern], 376 kudos

broken machine, 356 kudos

[the quality of mercy], 332 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do!!! more often than not it's just with some emojis now lol but i relish and treasure every single comment i get

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, this one has yet to be published :) don't worry! <3

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm... probably Two Cakes (which is coming out this month)? made me feel all sappy at least :]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not now, but I definitely got some hateful comments on things when i was a lot younger-- mostly people complaining that i was a bad writer or that i should delete (which i did, so they got their wish lol). now if anything i mostly get people who comment on my stuff to kind of pressure me to update XYZ (the nivannedy catboy fic is notorious for this, which is why i haven't been working on it very much lately). the block button is my friend tho <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

yeah :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think someone wanted to at one point and then never did lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've talked with some people about this before but we've never gotten around to it :P

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i love chreon but there's just SOMETHING about nivannedy---

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the lethan re7/re8 rewrite. i really want to keep working on them but i just have so much more on my plate that i keep pushing it off, especially when it'll require the research of rewatching playthroughs a few times to reimaging the plot points. maybe one day tho!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that my dialog is good which makes me happy because there are a few fics where i'm actually really proud of it :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

describing things, especially people! for some reason i always feel like it breaks the flow so i just... am like "there is a man. anyway--" sorry readers but it's your job to imagine him skjfnskdnf

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i only speak english and i'm also VERY american. i don't personally want to mess around with that because it would be google translate type shit and that's just sad imo :/ so since i don't know enough i will abstain

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokemon!!!!!!!!! i literally found THE first fic i ever wrote which would have been somewhere between third and fifth grade because i PRINTED IT and DREW PICTURES. it is called The Mysterious Manaphy and makes no sense. i read it aloud to my partner and they howled. yeah, it was just that good

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

listen, i love broken machine, but dualities has seriously taken the cake!!!!!!!!!

thank you for tagging me claire :3 i tag @flurrin @fonulyn and @silvercap!!!

[knifefightandchill]

fav resi fics? :)

This took me a second to gather, my browser bookmarks are such a mess. 😅 There were a couple ones I couldn't find too sadly. Including the one that wasn't ship related

So all of these are ship related, because I have a problem XD So I'll sort them like that.

Metaltango;

Ties that Bind – by SocialDeception

Nary a Waver – by tirsynni

Chreon;

Home again, Sweetheart – by Mikhailov

Nivannedy;

as long as you’ll have me – by fonulyn

tear me open (and make me whole again) – by fonulyn

If you or anyone has any resi fic recommendations please send them my way! I’ve been struggling to focus on reading lately, and would love suggestions.

and i'm gonna go ahead and tag the writers that i know the urls for, so you can check out all their work!

@fonulyn , @social-deception , @tirsynni

[fonulyn]

“So, this is me,” Leon said, hesitant as they stopped in front of the hotel. He pushed his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the gust of wind, and wished with everything there was in him that the night didn’t have to end just yet.

There was something familiar about Piers. Like coming home. And Leon was fully aware of how wildly inappropriate and weird that was when he barely knew the man. Here he went again, getting attached so fast it would earn him nothing but heartbreak.

Even so, Piers didn’t look like he was in a hurry, shifting in his place as he watched Leon, as if he was considering something. He opened his mouth to speak, but then just closed it again, taking his sweet time before saying anything. “I hope I’m not reading this wrong,” he said, his smile tentative, “but I get the feeling you’re as interested as I am.”

- Or, Leon's date is not at all what he expected. It's way better.

[silvercap]

For the micro story prompts, how about 15. trembling hands? With Leon of course :3c

You got it ;) (prompts)

15. Trembling Hands--Knight AU, because I got inspired hehe

Piers finds Leon leaned up against a tree, rolling eyes wide and unfocused as they stare off into space, his entire body trembling so hard that Piers doesn't even bother scanning the area for remaining enemies before dropping his dagger and throwing himself to his knees to check Leon for injuries.

"Have you been hurt?" he demands, already peeling back Leon's cloak to check for the telltale signs of blood. Leon makes no sign that he's heard at all, breaths rattling in his chest as he heaves for air. His skin is a deathly gray pallor when Piers looks again, and cold as ice against the fingers that Piers presses to the thundering pulse point beneath his jaw. Leon doesn't even react when Piers goes back to examining him for wounds and finds the nasty gash etched into his right forearm, gloved hand trembling and sword nowhere to be found.

Piers swallows, the eerie sensation of eyes on the back of his neck prompting him to whip around and scan the desolated forest that's been whispering in the back of his mind since the moment they stumbled into this accursed place. Not even a bird stirs in the trees, the fog of Piers' breaths in the chill the only movement aside from the unnatural curl of mist over snow-covered undergrowth.

"We need to make camp," he says quietly, unwilling to disturb the silence for reasons he can't explain. Leon doesn't respond, gaze too glazed to show any sign of recognition, and Piers feels suddenly alone, helpless and lost in an ancient forest with a companion who's nearly comatose and trembling, fingers twitching as Piers holds his breath and peels back the shredded leather bracer to reveal the inside of Leon's bloodied forearm. The sturdy material has taken far worse blows before and never once shown a sign of weakness, yet whatever it was that cut three deep crimson tears into Leon's pale, soft inner arm has seemingly been able to slice through several layers of fabric on top of the leather.

Leon's breath hitches for a moment before he shivers again, hands quivering even more erratically when Piers prods gently at the edge of the wounds. "Shh," he tries, "It's alright, I just need to look it over."

Piers presses delicately on the skin, brow furrowed. There's something in the wound, he thinks, maybe dirt, or....

He gasps as black fluid pours forth in a fountain of liquid far more viscous than blood, gaze shooting to Leon's face. His lips are moving, cracked and dry in the winter air, but no words spill forth, expression too dazed to give Piers any context to what he might be trying to say. Piers fights down a wave of queasiness, dipping his left pointer finger into the fluid and immediately hissing when it burns like acid. He scrubs it quickly in the snow, his own hand trembling slightly when he lifts it to examine the spot of reddening, raised flesh pulsing on the tip of his finger. His muscles tense. Poison.

Leon must be in absolute agony.

Slowly, Piers reaches into his pack to pull free a length of linen bandages, wrapping them securely around the wound and tucking Leon's sleeve back over the lump of fabric before the fluid and blood can begin to soak through.

"We'll fix this," Piers says with more determination than he truly feels, tucking the torn bracer into his pack along with the dagger he'd dropped at his side. It takes some maneuvering, but with the tree as a brace he manages to lift Leon more or less to his feet by the upper arms, darting close enough to slip the uninjured one over Piers' shoulders and use his legs to push the rest of Leon's weight upright. He slumps almost immediately into Piers, but the combat training must be paying off---Piers only stumbles slightly before he manages to right himself, gritting his jaw.

"I'll get us out of this place," he murmurs firmly, wrapping an arm around Leon's waist to steady him. "Even if it's the last thing that I do."

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day Four

Written while half-asleep, but overall, I'm pretty happy with this short little offering for @nivannedyweek. <3

DAY 4: “Did I say you could stop?” 

“Did I say you could stop?” Leon Kennedy slurred. 

He tried to throw the words over his shoulder, but it was challenging when his bones felt like liquid and his body was completely unresponsive. The weight on his back pinned him effortlessly. He couldn’t get up if he tried.

Not that he wanted to. Based on Piers’s grin, he knew it, too. “I thought you fell asleep,” Piers teased. Still, he put his hands back on Leon’s shoulders, exactly where they should be. “You were starting to snore.”

“Lies. Filthy lies.” Leon shifted enough to hide his yawn in his arms. Piers had massaged every lingering knot out of Leon, but that didn’t mean Piers could stop. “I’m wide awake.”

Piers snorted inelegantly behind him. Leon decided to be the bigger man and ignore his lover’s lack of faith. Like he would really go to sleep with Piers naked and sitting on his thighs. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Only one way to prove his point then. With a private grin, Leon purposefully wiggled his ass, arching every so lightly. His relaxed body protested a little, but it was worth it for the hitch in Piers’s breath. Leon might be boneless, but Piers definitely wasn’t. “More lotion, please.”

Piers hissed something unflattering behind him. He smacked Leon’s ass -- deliberately lightly, just enough to make a noise -- but Leon felt him shift to grab more lotion. Pleased, Leon closed his eyes and listened to Piers’s quiet, insincere grumbles. He heard “spoiled” more than once. 

“Any other requests?” Piers asked drolly, returning his hands to Leon’s shoulderblades. Leon tilted his head, as if thinking about it. All the while, he indulged in the feeling of Piers’s strong, clever hands digging into relaxed muscle.

“Lower,” Leon decided.

Piers grumbled again -- “Lower, he says” -- but obliged again, his thumbs digging into the middle of Leon’s back. Leon hummed happily. 

The scent of vanilla and musk filled the air. It filled Leon’s senses, wrapped lovingly around him. He could merrily spend the rest of their vacation right here, under Piers, the scent of Piers and vanilla surrounding him.

After several long, pleasant moments, Leon said again, “Lower.”

Again, Piers grumbled but obeyed. Something nudged Leon’s ass, making it perfectly clear that Piers was happy with the situation. Leon smiled smugly into his arms. Piers’s fingers dug into his lower back, just above the swell of his ass.

Despite the lovely feeling, Leon didn’t wait long before saying again, “Lower.” He paused, thought for a moment, and then added, “More lotion, please.”

“Lower? That would -- oh.”

Leon wiggled under Piers and beamed. Oh, yes. His clever boy was fully on board with this plan. “The other lotion. The strawberry one.” He all but purred with contentment. “It’s time for my happy ending.”

That slap was a little harder, but since it was well-earned and Piers was moving quickly, Leon decided that he wouldn’t complain. Much. He liked a little spice with his happy ending, after all.

[fonulyn]

(I’m sorry for hijacking your post but nnnhhh)

The night sky is so bright it feels like the stars might just fall right out of it. It’s surprisingly chilly, Piers thinks as he runs his fingers through his hair, still wet from the shower he’d taken, dripping onto his shoulders. He feels too restless to go back inside though, like he’s vibrating with the excess energy, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, hunches his shoulders against the wind and walks aimlessly forward.

A small group of his friends and coworkers are standing around smoking, and they beckon him to come closer but he only waves at them a little, his destination elsewhere. 

There’s a small playground next to the motel, empty at this hour of the night, except for the sole figure sitting on the bench staring at the swing set. "What did the swing ever do to you?” he asks as he takes a seat next to Leon. 

The answer is an amused huff, and Leon shakes his head slightly. “Shouldn’t you be catching up on sleep? We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“I could tell you the same thing,“ Piers replies without a pause. “Last I checked you were coming with us. Or did you just want a free night at this luxurious place courtesy of the BSAA?“ He nods towards the shabby motel as he speaks even though Leon isn’t looking straight at him, and as Leon snorts out another soft laugh he counts it as a success. 

There’s a pause, during which Piers thinks Leon won’t say anything, but then Leon surprises him by speaking up. His voice is silent, barely audible in the still air around them. “I don’t sleep well before... before.”

There’s vulnerability in him that makes Piers’ heart ache. It makes him want to take on the entire world so that Leon doesn’t need to. At the same time it feels like a some kind of victory, knowing that Leon trusts him enough to say this out loud. This thing, whatever it is, between them is so new and fragile, tentative at best, and time and time again Piers is floored by the realization that Leon wants to put in the effort as badly as he does. 

“Me neither,“ he says, tilting his head to look at Leon. He considers for a moment, collects his courage, but then decides that he could as well offer. “Wanna come keep me company? I scored a single room.” 

Leon turns to him, eyes slightly widened, as if he doesn’t believe what he hears.

Immediately Piers backtracks, “I mean, you obviously don’t need to. And I don’t know what kind of a luxury suite they get the consulting agents, you--”

“Stop talking,” Leon says, his voice amused, but at the same time unbearably tender. He turns, shifts a little closer, and leans to press his forehead against Piers’ shoulder. “I didn’t even go see the room,“ he admits, refusing to look up, as if the fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide, “I couldn’t.“

Piers tries very hard to stay still, barely dares to breathe. His heart is thrumming in his chest, filling with such intense warmth it feels way too much, way too soon, and he doesn’t say anything out loud. He hides the love in his heart, where it’s safe. For now. 

"I think the bed in my room could fit two people,” he says instead, careful to keep it light.

As an answer, Leon shifts a little closer still, presses his face into Piers’ neck, and takes a deep breath. The moment is gone as soon as it started, and he’s pulling back. The lines around his eyes seem a little less severe, though, his shoulders relaxing minutely. “Show me the way,” he says, a hint of a smile curving his mouth. 

Latest then, Piers knows he’s helplessly in love. There’s no going back for him. He feeds the flickering flame within his heart, keeps it to himself for now, and only nudges Leon’s shoulder with his own. “Let’s go, old man.”

Leon’s laughter is equal parts surprised and relieved. 

Sighhh

[locus-desperatus]

I usually don't post fic stuff here, but I'm excited about this so... Pirate Leon/Siren Piers 🥺

[echidnana]

just got hit with really fucking bad dysphoria why the FUCK is this happening

[mishkass]

i love how i just keep collecting resi ships like theyre pokemon cards. i started like three ethleon fics and never finished them, im working on a nivannedy sequel to my unrequited chreon fic, AND a nivanfield fic thats nothing but me emotionally torturing chris

[first-and-last-neocount]

Death, the Shadow, Spreads Its Wings Around Me - Chapter 1

Yooooo, I finally finished the first chapter of my first fic! And it’s a multi-chapter Resident Evil/Supernatural crossover, so it’s not like I’m diving straight into the deep end at all! *sweats*

All thanks to the wonderful @fonulyn, who nudged me into actually finishing and posting this damn thing by luring me into squealing about my ideas over Tumblr and then drowning me in supportive comments until I gave in. You’re an absolute darling, Fon, and I hope you enjoy my contribution to our cozy little Nivannedy rowboat. 

Most of it’s under a cut, since it got awfully long for a first chapter, lol. Or you can read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26437897/chapters/64411741

Chapter 1:

The ocean looked as black as ink.

Wreckage from the underwater base was strewn through the rolling waves, pieces as small as sheets of paper up to entire sections of insulated wall nearly ten feet across; all the truly heavy material had plunged to the bottom of the bay, but the rest now bobbed and swirled on the surface. Stormclouds had rolled in, the winds whipping the bay to a frenzy and darkening the water until it was impenetrably dark. A sea of shadows, from which nothing good could emerge.

Leon should have been resting in a medical tent, but instead he was on a boat cutting its slow but steady way across the churning waves, helping the rescue teams as they searched against all the odds for survivors. The winds had grown too unpredictable for a helicopter, so they were doing it the old fashioned way – a half-dozen coastal patrol boats, spread out into as even a grid as they could manage on the open water, combing through the debris field. Leon didn't hold out much hope for survivors, but he needed to be here anyway.

Even if he only managed to find the body, it was the least he could do.

When Leon had made it to the emergency command centre that the BSAA had set up just outside of Lanshiang's city limits, it had been in too much chaos for him to get a meaningful report from anyone. The explosion of Neo-Umbrella's underwater base had thrown everything into a frenzy, as rescue and salvage teams scrambled to deal with the fallout and contain any potential escaping bioweapons. When Leon had found the hasty medical centre and walked into the first tent, he'd been relieved to see Chris Redfield sitting on one of the folding cots, one arm in a sling and cut and bruised to hell but otherwise seemingly unharmed. Ignoring the chaos of medical personnel rushing around them, Leon made his way over to the BSAA Captain, and even managed to dredge up a wry smile from somewhere under his exhaustion.

“Well, we did it again, I guess. You'd think someone else would take a turn at saving the world one of these days...”

Chris had looked up at him, and Leon stopped in his tracks. There was something far worse than the usual exhaustion in Chris's dark brown eyes. His face was mostly expressionless, too tired to convey what was clearly churning inside him, but his eyes – his eyes were almost black with despair, filled with the kind of pain that Leon knew all too well. He offered only a single sentence.

“Piers didn't make it out.”

The ground didn't crack open beneath Leon's feet. The sky didn't fall. There were no explosions or dramatics or apocalyptic signs; instead, the world just... stopped. The noise of the chaos around them cut off as if the audio track had simply been muted, leaving ringing silence in Leon's ears. In that moment, a grenade could have gone off three feet away and he wouldn't have heard it. His vision seemed to dim around the edges, narrowing in until he couldn't see anything beyond Chris Redfield's hunched, defeated shoulders and despairing eyes. He couldn't feel the weight of his tac vest or the aching of his own muscles, couldn't smell the lingering smoke in the air – everything was gone, leaving him unmoored and adrift, his brain no longer processing the wealth of information that his body was trying to convey.

Low and echoing, as if from down a long tunnel, Leon heard himself rasp out, “What... happened?”

“He saved my life.” Chris's expression twisted as he said it, some of the raw agony in his voice finally breaking through onto his face. “We... that thing down there... if it got out, so many people would have died. We had to stop it.” His head bowed forward, his gaze falling to the ground – yet his haunted stare was clearly seeing something else, flashes of the horror he had just lived through.

“Piers got caught under debris. Crushed his arm. We were going to lose, we didn't have a chance... then he. Injected himself, with something.” A shudder ran through the Captain's frame. “He started to mutate. Whole arm swelled, muscles, spines, the whole nine yards. Fought the creature off with some kind of electrical blast. Got me into an escape pod, even though I was barely conscious.” Another shudder, stronger than the last. “Then he... when the base blew...” He looked back up at Leon, and the mask of exhaustion was gone, fiercely held-back tears shimmering in his eyes and his handsome features warped with helpless rage. “He stayed behind.”

This time it was Leon who couldn't hold the gaze. He turned away, his gaze drifting over the walls of the tent before fixing, still not really seeing, on the view from the open flaps of the tent – on the grim orange light reflecting against the gathering clouds, the rising plumes of black smoke reaching up like grasping hands. Lanshiang was burning, whole tracts of the city turned to rubble by the wanton destruction of the J'avo mutants, and it felt like the perfect mirror to the devastation unfolding inside Leon's heart.

Piers Nivans. Leon had only crossed paths with the young sniper a few times, and always in the context of a mission, where the BSAA and DSO's interests had overlapped; they had probably only spoken directly to each other on a handful of occasions, yet that had been enough for the younger man to make a powerful impression on Leon.

Admittedly, it had been his looks that had caught Leon's eye the first time. Leon had never tried to make much of a secret of his preference for tough, muscular men who looked like they could probably bench press him if they tried; Piers hadn't only had that going for him, but also stunning hazel-green eyes, a jawline to die for, and a fierce self-confidence that he wore like the proverbial shining armor of a noble knight. After only a few brief exchanges, though, Leon had realized there was so much more beneath the surface; Piers might have acted like just another military muscle-head sometimes, but he was also kind, quick-witted, and compassionate. While other agents often shied away from Leon, intimidated by his reputation, Piers had looked at Leon with something embarrassingly close to awe in his eyes sometimes... but he'd still had the nerve to ask if Leon was okay after an intense fight, offer him a hand into an escape chopper, even once argue with him when he thought the plan to breach a building full of infected was too risky. Chris had once commented to Leon that Piers usually stayed in the background and left the detail-wrangling to others, but that when Leon was present, he seemed compelled to step into the conversation; Leon had been unexpectedly warmed by that little revelation. He'd even wondered, sometimes, if the spark of attraction he felt for the sniper might be mutual. Their line of work didn't allow much time for their private lives, and Leon had mostly given up on the idea of romance after how spectacularly his relationships with Ada and Jack had crashed and burned, but something about Piers had made him want to reconsider. Maybe someday, he'd thought. A beer after work, just the two of them, without the rest of Chris's boisterous team around – get to know each other better, see if their compatibility only existed on the battlefield or if that chemistry extended to personal interactions as well. Always, though, those ideas had come with those inherent caveats; possibly, maybe, someday.

Now, someday would never come.

The numbness was starting to wear off a little, the duller throbs and sharper aches of his body making themselves known again, but Leon couldn't fathom the thought of resting. More pressing than all the physical pains was the sudden, burning knowledge that he'd forgotten the other crucial truth of their work. That all of them spent their lives standing on the very threshold of annihilation; that all too often, someday never arrived. Planning for tomorrow was a fool's dream, because none of them ever knew if they'd even have a tomorrow – if Leon wanted something with Piers, he should have grabbed for it with both hands, when he had the chance. And the slow, collapsing hole of despair in his chest told him that whether or not he'd admitted it before, he really, really had wanted it. He'd let his own fear hold him back, though, and now the chance was gone.

“They're putting together a recovery team, to see if they can find any survivors – or remains.” The sound of his own voice was startlingly normal, but Leon didn't turn to face Chris; he didn't want to find out if his face was holding up the facade as well. “I'm going with them. I'll bring his body back if I can.”

“What?” He heard Chris shift behind him, the sudden concern in his voice. “Leon, you're exhausted, you -”

“Get some rest. I'll let you know when I get back.” Forcing himself into motion, Leon strode out of the tent, ignoring Chris calling after him. The edges of the gaping void in his chest were growing, the chasm spreading wider and wider as the reality of the situation sank in, threading tingling lines of pain through his whole body. It felt as though, if he stopped moving now, he might just fold in on himself like a dying star and crumble into nothingness.

That could come later. First, he had to do what he could for Piers – even if it was far, far too late for it to matter. Even if all he could manage was to bring his body home.

The icy spray coming off the waves as the boat cut through them barely even registered on Leon's skin; he felt just as cold inside, that black hole of pain swallowing his organs and filling his veins like tar. He wasn't alone in his focused silence – no one in the boat was talking, all of them standing rigidly at the rails and staring intently out at the waters around them, searching for signs of life... or, failing that, of human remains. So far, they had only recovered two bodies, both of Neo-Umbrella scientists who must have been working inside the facility when it was destroyed. Those bodies had been placed at the very back of the boat, tucked against the rear rail under a tarp, and were being studiously ignored; Leon wouldn't have even bothered to fish them from the water, if it were up to him. They had known what they were choosing when they signed on with Neo-Umbrella. The people who kept this interminable war going, who made it necessary for good men like Piers Nivans to give up their lives to keep their world safe... they didn't deserve burying, if you asked Leon.

Suddenly, his gaze caught something other than the smooth surfaces of the laboratory wreckage. He called it out before he even fully knew what he'd seen. “I see something! Twenty degrees left!”

The boat slowed and turned, heading toward the object he'd seen. As a wave crested and sank, Leon got a better glimpse, and his heart leapt into his throat. It was a body, alright; floating face up, half-draped across a piece of wreckage, and wearing not the white of a lab coat but camouflage military gear. They were still some distance away, and the body's face was turned away  - but Leon could just make out the drape of a piece of grey-green fabric around the body's neck, sodden wet and plastered down against the tac vest but still distinguishable as a scarf, and he knew. He knew with a certainty that turned his blood to ice.

Piers.

As the boat pulled closer, murmurs swept through the boat crew; they might not have known Piers by name, but they all recognized that the man whose body they were approaching had been a BSAA Lieutenant by the insignia on his left shoulder. Leon didn't make a sound, his gaze trained on Piers, his pain-numbed brain finally starting to recognize that there was something strange about the corpse. They had almost reached their target when Leon's sluggish mind finally connected the pieces, and he inhaled sharply.

Chris had said that Piers injected himself with one of Neo-Umbrella's viral cocktails, that he'd mutated heavily enough to have spines and some kind of electrical discharge. Hell, prior to that, his arm had apparently been crushed by falling debris. And yet...

The right side of Piers's shirt was torn away, exposing not only his arm but the side of his chest as well. Even his tactical gear there had taken a beating, the vest ripped and sagging as though the swelling of the mutation had burst it. Yet – there was no mutation. All Leon could see was smooth, tanned skin. Piers's arm looked whole and undamaged, as human as it had ever been where it lay limply at his side, not even cut or bloodied as Chris had been; other than the deathly pallor under his tan, and the horrible stillness of his chest, he looked entirely uninjured.

As the boat pulled alongside the wreckage, the two men closest reached out with hooked poles and snagged the back of Piers's tac vest. With a few muted grunts, they dragged the BSAA agent's limp form closer, until they could reach down enough to grab him and haul him up onto the boat. As they lowered him gently onto the slick wood of the deck, Leon couldn't help but kneel down and reach out to touch him, mind spinning and chest aching fit to burst. He was distantly aware of a few of his companions watching him with pitying eyes, but no one tried to stop him; it was obvious that Piers was gone, but it must have been equally obvious that Leon was breaking down, and that he wouldn't fully accept it until he'd felt the sniper's cold skin and absent pulse for himself.

His shaking fingers landed first on Piers's shoulder, touching that undamaged flesh and wondering with a sick shudder what fresh hell Neo-Umbrella had cooked up, that the horrific mutation Chris had described had simply vanished as though it had never been – but the moment he made contact the muscles under his hand tensed, Piers's brilliant hazel eyes flew open, and his chest heaved as he gasped for breath and started to cough.

“Piers!” Heart suddenly pounding double-time, Leon grabbed for the sniper's wrist; even as he sought for a pulse, his other hand was smoothing the sniper's soaked hair back from his face, assessing the look of wild panic in Piers's eyes. “Get me blankets and a first aid kit, now! Piers, can you hear me? You're safe, I promise, you're going to be fine -”

“Agent Kennedy?” Piers's voice was a weak rasp, barely audible over the sudden flurry of movement around them, but his eyes had refocused and were fixed steadily on Leon. The recognition and awareness there made Leon's heart flutter, and he managed a shaky smile, smoothing Piers's hair back again needlessly. He could feel the BSAA agent's pulse with his other hand, stunningly strong and steady, and it made him smile wider despite the absolute deluge of adrenaline running wild through his veins.

“Yeah, it's me. Just stay with me, Piers, you're gonna be okay.”

Leon knew that the odds of that were not actually in their favour – hell, it was bordering on an impossibility that Piers was even alive at all, and a downright miracle that he wasn't mutated beyond recognition – but he said with all the conviction he could muster, and it was almost enough to convince himself. Piers smiled weakly back at him, then the medic was there, wrapping warm blankets around Piers and asking rapid-fire questions about where he was hurt and how much he could feel as the man began to cut away his waterlogged tactical gear. Leon moved back a little to give the medic room to work, but when he would have let go of Piers's wrist, the sniper grabbed his hand and held on; heart swelling with too many emotions to even begin to process them now, Leon mirrored that fierce grasp and stayed close, unwilling to move an inch further away than he had to as long as Piers clearly wanted him there.

As the medic did a thorough inventory of Piers's injuries, checking vital signs and testing responses while looking for any major wounds, a strange look of consternation came across the man's face. Before Leon could ask, the medic said slowly, “Lieutenant, are you in any pain right now?”

Piers blinked, then frowned. “Um, not really?” he said, looking rather surprised by that fact himself. “I figure I'm in shock, though, because I don't even feel cold and I'm pretty sure you guys just fished me out of the ocean.”

“We did, yes.” The medic was frowning too. “Yet your core body temperature is already returning to something near normal. Your heart rate is steady, your blood pressure is only slightly elevated, you have no major visible wounds, and you don't seem to be suffering any loss of sensation.”

Piers froze, and his grip on Leon's hand tightened. “Wait.” he breathed out, eyes wide, and looked down at his own arm in bewilderment. “My arm... I was...”

“Chris said you got hurt pretty badly down there.” Leon murmured, cutting Piers off – he didn't know how the medic would react if Piers admitting to having been infected, but he knew it wouldn't be in any way good and he wasn't anxious to find out specifics. There were absolutely no signs of mutation or mental alteration in evidence, and unless and until Piers started showing worrying symptoms, Leon wasn't going to let them lock him up in quarantine when he'd somehow managed to survive what should certainly have killed him. “You look fine though. Maybe... Chris just got it wrong, yeah? Heat of the moment and all that.”

Piers looked up, met Leon's gaze – and whatever he saw there, it made his eyes go wide, and Leon could have sworn he saw the sniper's cheeks flush, ever so slightly. “Right.” Piers said, voice still slightly hoarse. “Yeah. I... it was pretty chaotic there, for a while. I got thrown against the wall, and I just assumed my arm was broken and I was powering through on adrenaline. Can't stop to assess injuries mid-fight, you know? But maybe I – maybe it was just a little bruised after all.”

“It appears so.” The medic still looked perplexed, but he shrugged. “You're damn lucky, then, Lieutenant – we thought we were out here on a recovery mission only, and I'm damn glad we were wrong.” He stood up then, and cast a pointed glance at Leon. “He needs to stay wrapped up in those blankets until we get back to shore, and one of us needs to get back to helping with the search. You wanna stay and keep an eye on him, make sure he stays awake and responsive?”

Leon usually put a lot of work into maintaining his aloof persona, but right now he'd just been handed a miracle of a second chance and his facade of cool indifference was the last thing on his mind. He nodded gratefully, and the medic nodded back before striding off to rejoin the rest of the crew at the rails.

“Agent Kennedy...”

The soft words brought his gaze back to Piers, and Leon smiled down at him, squeezing his hand gently. “Call me Leon, please.” He said quietly, and got to watch a little smile tug at the corners of Piers's mouth. “Are you really okay?”

“I think so.” Piers held his gaze steadily, hazel eyes open and honest. “The Captain told you what I did, didn't he? You know that I was...”

“He did, and I do.” Leon replied, still keeping his voice low – the recovery crew didn't need to hear this exchange. “Don't particularly feel the need to spread it around, though. You look completely fine, and I don't know how that's possible but I'm not inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth. I'm just incredibly glad you're alive.”

Piers was definitely blushing now, but he was also looking at Leon with dawning confusion. “Wait a second, weren't you in the city when everything went sideways? What are you doing out here with the recovery crew? And where's the Captain?”

“Chris is at the medical tent back at command. He's a bit battered, but he's going to be fine.” Leon said soothingly. “As for why I'm here, I was looking for you.”

Piers just stared at him as if he didn't understand what he was hearing. Leon bit the inside of his cheek  a bit, trying to force back the nerves; it had been a long time since he'd opened up to anyone, to any degree, who wasn't Claire or Chris. Even with them, he usually just put a bit less effort into making himself appear 'fine' and let them draw their own conclusions about how he felt. He'd just been given a very sharp and painful confirmation, though, that what he felt for Piers was more than a passing fancy – and even he wasn't stubborn or emotionally constipated enough to ignore that kind of a warning, so he took a deep breath and made himself continue.

“Look, I know we haven't really spent all that much time together, but – I like you, Piers. A lot. And when Chris told me you were dead, I realized what an idiot I was for not saying anything. I let my own fears and hang-ups get in the way, and if you weren't somehow here and alive and safe, I'd have regretted that for the rest of my life.” Piers's eyes had gotten rounder and rounder as Leon spoke, and he was looking at the DSO agent like he had hung the damn moon, and they were still holding hands, so Leon smiled weakly and said, “I guess, what I'm saying is – once the trauma team back at command clears you for real... do you wanna go grab a drink together?”

For a second, Piers looked like he'd frozen in place – then he started nodding vigorously, and a broad smile broke across his face like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Yes.” he said fervently. “Hell yes, I – honestly, it's kind of a running joke with the guys on the team at this point, but I really, really like you too, Agent Kennedy.” If anything, his grin only got wider then. “Leon.”

Leon grinned back at him, a light, giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest; it had been far too long at this point, so long that Leon had almost forgotten, and it took him a moment to identify that feeling as joy. For once not tempered by loss, or anger, or bitterness. The city was still burning and the war against bioterrorism might feel like an unwinnable uphill fight, but Piers was alive and safe and they were going to get a drink after debriefing and maybe this once, just this once, Leon could actually get to keep something good in his life.  

Their boat finished its section of the grid and turned back toward shore a few minutes later, one survivor and two dead bodies retrieved from the wreckage. It took about a half hour to get from the debris field back to port, and then another ten minutes to make the trek back to the emergency command centre.

Piers didn't let go of Leon's hand until the medical team came to whisk him away for a proper examination, and neither one of them had stopped smiling.