#nivannedy week

[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.”

[fonulyn]

Piers frowned. His prosthetic arm was around Leon’s torso, holding him up, and he used his teeth to tug off his glove from his left hand so he could press his palm on Leon’s forehead. “You’re hot.”

Without thinking, Leon replied. “Thank you, you too.” He probably had fever, for real, he could use it as a defense if he said anything too out there.

The answer was an eyeroll, and Piers scoffed. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

-- Or, Leon struggles through a mission while sick.

[ultrabloodshed]

Nivannedy Week Day 1: Only One Bed

Happy Nivannedy Week !! I like this ship as a Lethan and Nivanfield Shipper lolz

But anyways... I finally get out of long Art Block for this event so I hope you like it ! <33 @nivannedyweek

[thebrandywine]

Inspired by the other ship weeks, @fonulyn and I have decided that Nivannedy needs a week, too!

[silvercap]

Bro why does the link post template not format the ao3 links properly but when you just paste it normally it does :\

Summary:

Drama! -~- It’s not long before Leon's head appears at the windowsill, golden locks rustling in the breeze. His eyes narrow in determination the moment he sees Piers struggling so hard against the iron manacles that his wrists are being rubbed raw, and Piers realizes his mistake too late.

Tags: Fairy Tale Elements, i guess, Based on Tangled!, Blood and Injury, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Infected Piers Nivans (sorta), Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2441

Nivannedy! I would say that it's for Nivannedy week prompt 'gentle' but it's already over so not really

[fonulyn]

i've got some nivannedy for nivannedy week!

Leon brought a hand to Piers’ head, urging him to turn it so they could kiss, short and uncoordinated, but no less sweet. “Maybe,” he said, before he caught Piers’ lower lip between his teeth and tugged gently. “What’s in it for me?” That made Piers laugh, breathless and bright, full of joy. Just the way that made Leon’s heart fill with warmth, the joy so intense it threatened to bubble over. “How about a nap,” Piers said then, still chuckling.

and some random Claire/Jill?

“You’re not looking,” Claire pointed out, amusement in her tone as she stepped closer, stumbling a little just as she was in front of Jill. Somehow Jill thought it wasn’t exactly an accidental stumble, not when she ended falling perfectly against Jill, easily wrapping her arms around her neck. “The stars, Jill,” she repeated brightly, “they’re gorgeous tonight.” Automatically Jill brought her arms around Claire, her heart skipping in her chest at the way Claire felt so warm and soft against her. “They’re not the only gorgeous thing tonight,” she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically rough and quiet.

This week’s word is…

✨ BRIGHT ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[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.

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day 2

Survived the Thanksgiving trip. Barely. Here's Day Two of Nivannedy Week. I'll title it later when I post in on AO3.

DAY 2: “Who did this to you?” 

Untitled Part One

The plan was to meet with Agent Kennedy on-site. Leon’s handler, Agent Hunnigan, notified them that Leon had arrived approximately 24 hours before the BSAA team. Chris Redfield joked that the site would be cleared -- and probably on fire -- before they even landed. Piers Nivans wished he could agree. Maybe it was the echoes of Tatchi and the reports of Leon being killed in action prior to that, which did it, but Piers couldn’t shake his bad feeling.

When there was no sign of anyone at the rendezvous site, Piers’s bad feeling only worsened. A check-in with Agent Hunnigan confirmed no contact with Leon for the past four hours. The decision to split up and look for Leon was quick and uncontested by anyone on the team.

“Goddammit, Leon,” Chris grumbled over the coms. The signal was poor in this area, but not even the crackling of the radio could hide the worry in Chris’s voice. “If Claire doesn’t turn me gray, he will.”

Piers grit his teeth and didn’t respond. From the outside, the site looked like any other abandoned factory, ravaged by time and rust and the creeping wilderness. The inside looked much the same at first: broken furniture, cracked and shattered windows, no signs of life. Several rooms in, though, the picture changed.

“Bodies found,” Piers reported, assessing the area. He couldn’t quite make out what the room was supposed to be. Not a lab. Possibly an administrative room. There were multiple broken desks and chairs, and at least three visible bodies on the floor. Dried, dark red blood covered all of them.

“Anyone we know?” Chris asked. His voice was tense.

“No,” Piers said. He swept the room with his rifle and stepped carefully forward. He clenched his jaw as he studied the corpses. “I think they’re members of the staff.”

“BOWs?”

“Unknown.” Piers stared at the corpse closest to him. A woman with her long red hair torn from its bun. Broken glasses laid beside her body. “Human. Looks like stab wounds.”

“Do you think it was Leon?”

“No,” Piers said instantly. He assessed the corpse closest to the woman. The man was wearing a bloody white coat. “Not with these wounds.”

The woman’s death had been quick. She probably hadn’t had a chance to react before her assailant slit her throat. The cleanness of it hinted at a human perpetrator, but the man’s body definitely didn’t.

“Probable BOW,” Piers reported, studying the corpse. He had self-defense wounds. It looked like he had tried to raise his hand in self-defense before his assailant cut it off at the wrist. The man behind him had tried to run for the door but hadn’t made it before a single smooth blow stabbed him from behind. “Possibly something human-based.” The strikes were too clean and deliberate for a BOW’s brutal frenzy or something with claws. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Do you need backup?”

“Negative. The bodies are already in stages of rigor mortis. If I see signs of recent activity, I’ll let you know.”

The next two rooms had more bodies. The third was empty of everything but dried blood. It was at the fourth that Piers paused and hit his comm again. “Update,” he said. He moved so his back wasn’t to the open door and held his rifle at the ready. “Signs of life found. Backup requested.”

The decapitated body behind the desk seemed good and dead, but on the desk, deliberately placed in a spot untouched by arterial spray, was a plate with a half-eaten sandwich and a cup of coffee. When Piers checked, the coffee was cool but not cold, with a splash of coffee still damp on the desk. The sandwich appeared fresh.

“Understood. On my way.”

Piers provided his location and swept the room again. Two doors: the one he came through and the one leading deeper into the factory. Chris should arrive shortly, and then --

“Piers?” a familiar voice called.

All thoughts of waiting for Chris flew out the window. “Leon!” Piers shouted. He started in the direction of Leon’s voice. Habit more than anything reminded him to comm Chris with the update and kept his rifle up. He ignored Chris’s demands for information to call to Leon again. “I’m coming! What’s your situation?”

“Shitty. Do you have a lockpick?”

Lockpick? 

The door led to a hallway with two doors on one side, three on the other, and another door at the far end. All of the doors were shut. Piers’s skin prickled, and he scowled. Not good. Not good at all. It would make sense to wait for Chris, but this was Leon. “Marco!” he shouted.

“Polo!” came Leon’s voice from the right. His droll response carried easily through the door.

It was a struggle to keep an eye on the other doors as he jogged to Leon’s door. “Is the door clear?”

“Clear!”

Good. Piers kicked the door open and swept the room with his rifle as he entered. Fortunately, there was no sign of the mysterious killer. The room was all but empty with no visible exits. Just Leon, a table, and a paper plate with a sandwich on it.

Leon, with a black eye, a busted lip, and his wrists shackled to the table.

Piers cursed and rushed forward. “Who did this to you?” he demanded.

“Someone who will be back any minute,” Leon returned. “Do you have backup? And a lockpick?” He paused and considered something. “And coffee?”

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week: Day One

I am queuing this on November 30th, because I'm driving home from visiting the family and will be grateful to be conscious when I arrive home on December 1st. lol I have a couple prompts done but not all, so here's hoping I can post the rest of them this week!

DAY 1: sacrifice | underwater facility

In the After

Leon Kennedy knew Piers Nivans before everything went to hell, but he didn’t really know him despite Claire’s repeated urgings to just meet the man for a cup of coffee. Leon knew Piers as a good soldier, Chris’s second, and as the man who once spit out his coffee the first time he heard Leon make a bad pun.

Afterwards… Afterwards was a different world, broken into shining, fragile, bloody fragments of glass. 

It was Chris, afterwards, who shared the details Piers would -- could -- not. How Piers had been the one to save Chris from himself and drag him out of the mire. How Piers had been the one who refused to give up on the mission. Chris admitted that he lost sight of their objective, but not Piers. “Kinda like you,” Chris said wryly. 

Leon didn’t bother telling him that Claire had said that to him in the great, vast before. “He’s stubborn,” Claire had said. “Goal-oriented. He looks at the future and sees something bright, sees a world worth saving.” She raised an eyebrow at Leon. “Kinda like someone else I know.”

Claire didn’t get a chance to tell Leon all this after. She was too busy helping clean up the mess left behind in Tatchi.

Chris brought up Tatchi once. Only once. “We thought you were dead.”

Afterwards, Leon discovered multiple things which Piers had never shared before. Piers claimed he liked his coffee black, but that didn’t stop him from putting sweet syrups in it when given half a chance. He liked cats but loved dogs. Even in war zones when there was a good chance of a dog transforming and tearing someone to pieces, Piers would stop and pet the dogs. He had a family waiting for him in the States: a rarity in their field. Apparently him spitting out his coffee was an unusual event and hard to mimic. Chris caught him singing in the shower at BSAA once, but Piers denied it to hell and back. 

All of these things went through Leon’s head as he stared at the empty casket being lowered into the ground. Most caskets in their field were either empty or filled with the person’s ashes. Piers Nivans was no different despite the screaming in Leon’s heart.

He sacrificed himself, Chris had said. In the Underwater Facility.

The place Leon had sent him to.

Claire had told him before that she thought they would be a good couple, and after Chris had agreed. Leon knew better. Leon’s touch meant death, as this funeral and the president’s funeral showed so clearly.

He threw a white lily into the empty coffin -- a private favorite of Piers’s, Chris had said -- and watched with dry eyes as dirt covered that, too.

[lliinno-blog]

Phoenix! I honestly cried a little reading this!!! 😭

I'm going to pass the phone to @fonulyn ! She is the one who got me to start commenting, and I will forever be grateful for that! She also encouraged me to try participating in Nivannedy Week, going so far as to read everything and catch mistakes before I posted it.

Fon, you are so nice, supportive, inspiring, and skilled! I know we don't talk a ton, but I always love hearing from you. You've helped me break down some barriers my anxiety put up a long time ago. Thank you for being my friend🩷

i wanna play a game. do you know that thing where you pass a phone to ___ person and then they pass the phone to the next person? I wanna do that. bc life has been hectic and I wanna give out compliments. so!

I'm passing the phone to someone who got me back into writing and has created one of my favorite fanmade characters ever. I love him so much and I love how distinct you made him from Leon while also keeping him similar. I'm too used to clone characters being, well. Clones! so, @samblerambles thank you for the joy of this little guy.

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day Three

Not feeling hot and not recovered from my trip, so apologies for possible crappiness. ^^;;

DAY 3: “How do you feel?”

Untitled 2/2

Piers didn’t have a lockpick, but Leon was disturbingly skilled at directing him how to free him with a knife. Piers had asked him once about his abilities with a knife. It had been more the dark shadows in Leon’s eyes than Leon’s overly cheerful “Classified” which stopped Piers from pushing.

“How much time do you think we have before they return?” Piers asked. 

“Unknown,” Leon said. He didn’t look at Piers, instead rubbing his wrists. Leon was wounded and battered, and Piers felt guilty for admiring the curve of his jaw when he should have been assessing the man’s wounds. “Is backup coming?”

“At least Chris,” Piers said. “How do you feel? Are you okay to leave?”

Leon’s wrists were bruised from more than his cuffs. Piers saw the shadow of a handprint before Leon shifted and his sleeve hid it again. “More than. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He looked past Piers, and his eyes went dark and distant. “There’s nothing else here now.”

Question after question tumbled behind Piers’s teeth -- who did this, what happened here -- but getting Leon out of there and finding medical treatment was more important. He gave Leon a spare pistol and tried not to bask in Leon’s thankful smile. The movement reopened the cut in Leon’s lip and killed the brief spark of pleasure.

Leon Kennedy was a legend in the field, a veteran long before Piers had killed his first BOW, but that didn’t erase the blooming black eye or the slender trail of blood on his face. Nothing could have stopped Piers from staying close to the man as he limped out of the room. Piers sent an update through the radio, adding a request for a medic to be waiting for them outside. Leon rolled his eyes at Piers when he heard it, but Piers only made a face back. Being a legend didn’t stop someone from being a stubborn idiot, after all.

It was more telling than anything else that Leon didn’t protest Piers’s close proximity. Leon even bumped his shoulder as they slowly moved toward the exit. “How are you holding up?” Piers asked quietly. 

Leon’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Classified.” He bumped Piers’s shoulder again, almost apologetically, and his weight lingered against Piers as he looked around again.

No Tyrant or Licked put Leon in that room and provided him with lunch. Was it the same being who killed the others?

There was no point in asking. Leon had made that clear. Piers looked away from their surroundings to study Leon’s pale face. Leon’s jaw was clenched, face tight, and Piers hated it. “After we patch you up, maybe we can find you a coffee. I could use one myself.”

Leon paused in his tense perusal to raise an eyebrow at Piers. There was a healing scrape there that Piers hadn’t noticed before. “If Hunnigan doesn’t kill me first,” he said.

Something creaked in the distance. Leon tensed and his eyes grew sharp. Leon aimed his pistol down the corridor and Piers copied him, mind flicking through possible threats. He knew all of his attention should be on this possible threat, but he found himself noticing Leon’s bloody sleeve, obvious with Leon’s arms extended like they were. A clean cut through the fabric. A familiar cut.

“Piers! Leon!” 

Leon exhaled and lowered his pistol. “Here, Chris!” he shouted back. “About time!”

They didn’t have a medic, so Piers found himself being the one to bandage Leon’s wounds while another team swept the building. Leon checked in with Hunnigan, using clearly coded language as Piers inspected Leon’s bruised wrists. 

Yeah. That was definitely a handprint. Bigger than his own. Another mental box was ticked.

When Leon was done, Piers assessed the bruises on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Leon wrinkled his nose at him, aware that Piers had asked that before and just as aware that he hadn’t ever answered. Then he smiled, warm and bright. “How about I tell you over coffee? I don’t have to debrief until tomorrow morning.”

They hadn’t moved far. Just to the BSAA trucks outside the rusting factory. From their vantage point, Piers could have sworn he saw a shadow watching them from one of the high windows. Piers was willing to bet that he knew who possessed that shadow.

Piers didn’t say a word about it. He smiled back at Leon and carefully touched the skin beside his black eye. “It’s a date.”

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day Seven

Written while exhausted and it's unedited, but yay! The last prompt for @nivannedyweek is completed!

DAY 7: lost 

Untitled 2/2

They had won.

Technically.

Leon wondered when it would feel like it.

One of the soldiers had given Leon a BSAA jacket. It was too big on him, but that was fine. It had to fit Leon and all of the bandages the doctors had wound around him. He had to look pathetic in his bandages and hospital gown and too big coat.

He felt too numb to feel pathetic. His feet were cold as he limped down the hallway to where the soldier had pointed him. The soldier had looked two seconds away from offering his boots when Leon walked away. 

“We thought you were dead, Sir.”

It had been a good idea at the time. The best option available. It didn’t lessen the guilt on Leon’s exhausted shoulders. He didn’t think anything could lessen it. For the first time, he had a real lead, had struck a true blow against the greedy, ruthless bastards within the US government, and Leon just wanted to collapse in a corner and not move again.

The hall seemed to stretch on forever. Leon focused on the door numbers and avoiding stepping in anyone’s path. Each step sent a flash of pain from foot to skull, but that wasn’t enough to distract him.

Room 506, the soldier told him. Leon hadn’t thought to ask his name.

Captain Redfield was awake, the soldier had told him. The soldier didn’t have any other information to give him. Just that it was bad. 

Leon had asked for them to go down there. Whatever happened, it was on him.

He failed Adam. He failed Sherry. He failed Chris and Piers.

Later, Leon knew, the guilt would really kick in. Right then, the exhaustion made those last feet to 506 seem like miles. It was a little funny that the mess waiting for him back in the States seemed less stressful and less horrifying than the one simple closed door.

Leon had asked them, though. The only reason Chris and Piers had been down there was because of him.

His hand didn’t shake when Leon opened the door. His hand felt numb, too.

There were only two people in the room, which surprised Leon a little. He had expected Chris to be swarmed upon his return. Instead, there was one person sleeping in a chair and one person sleeping on the bed.

Just inside the room, Leon froze. His exhausted brain stalled. He should have expected Chris to be asleep, but for some reason, he hadn’t. Now, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. They were asleep, they needed the sleep, but where was Leon supposed to go now? What was he supposed to do?

The figure on the bed cracked open an eye. Bandages hid the other. “Leon,” Piers Nivans croaked. To Leon’s amazement, Piers smiled at him. “There’s another chair, you know. Or you can take Chris’s bed.”

Leon eyed Chris, snoring away at Piers’s bedside instead of in his bed, and then limped toward the second chair. 

Was he supposed to apologize? Was he supposed to ask  about the ominous flatness on one side of Piers’s body? What was he supposed to do?

Piers smiled wryly at him. He looked like shit. He looked like he had just survived a war. He looked beautiful. “You should take the bed. You look dead on your feet.”

Leon scoffed. “It’s the hospital gown. It washes me out.”

Piers laughed quietly, and that was enough to win a dazed smile from Leon. 

I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to help. Tell me where we go from here?

Considering Piers was the one sprawled on a hospital bed, bandaged and probably missing a limb, he looked far livelier than Chris looked and Leon felt. There was a strange gleam in his one visible eye which reminded Leon of how he looked right before he shot a bullseye.

Leon almost asked him what he was thinking when Piers spoke up again. “Do you want to go on a date after this?”

…what? “What?” Leon asked blankly. It would have felt less shocking if Piers had shot him.

Piers’s smile grew a little nervous, but he didn’t look away. “Coffee? Dinner? Just the two of us? A date.”

That didn’t help the confusion, but as Leon smiled back, he felt a little less lost. The weight on his shoulders was still heavy but seemed a little lighter.

He was tired of regrets.

“I could do with a coffee,” Leon said.

[tirsynni]

Nivannedy Week Day Six

Only a day late! Yesterday won that round, unfortunately. But it's still @nivannedyweek!

DAY 6: Tatchi bomb

Untitled 1/2

“Haven’t you heard?”

It was hard to hear over his pulse roaring in his ears. Chris was still yelling in front of him, and Piers knew he needed to pay attention to the disaster unfolding before his eyes. Everything felt separate from him, though. 

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Leon?! Leon, where are you?”

Chris was shouting and Piers couldn’t do anything. He sat there, numb and yet somehow still more aware of his body than any other time in his life.

“Chris! We’re just outside Tatchi. Why?”

“Don’t tell Chris. He can’t… and it’s Leon. He has to have a life or two left, right?”

Piers’s pulse roared in his ears, throbbed under his skin, and Piers couldn’t see the horror unfolding before him. He saw Leon and Chris laughing together at the bar before everything went to hell. Claire had bumped his shoulder with her own and grinned a Redfield grin.

“Go on. Shoot your shot. I’m telling you, you won’t regret it.”

“Get the hell outta there!”

“Piers, did… did you hear about Tall Oaks?”

Did anyone tell Claire that Leon had survived Tall Oaks?

If Piers could turn back time, he would have done so many things differently. Wasn’t that the cardinal rule in this job? Live every day as if it was your last?

Chris was still shouting. 

“Don’t tell Chris.”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Get the hell outta there!”

There was nothing but death all around them. The broken and bloody shards of their failures. All hope for the future teetered on a knife’s edge.

“Shoot your shot.”

“Leon! Leon!”

Pain and grief made Piers’s eyes burn. He let his gaze drop.

“We head out bright and early for a big mission. Next time… next time, I’ll ask him out.”

“We’re just outside Tatchi.”

“Leon! Leon, are you all right?”

Piers’s arm was a dead weight beside him. In front of him, Chris fought for his life. Piers felt every road he had never taken crumble around him, breaking under the weight of an innocuous syringe.

“Leon, are you all right?”

“Yeah…”

Piers hadn’t said a word. Not when they found out that Leon was still alive, not when Leon survived the bomb. He hadn’t said a word, had let Chris do all of the talking. 

“Shoot your shot.”

Piers didn’t feel a thing when he stabbed himself with the syringe. Not at first.

For the future, Piers thought. Chris’s. The BSAA’s.

Leon’s.

Even if he wouldn’t be there to see it.

“I’m telling you, you won’t regret it.” 

[fonulyn]

SO excited for the nivannedy week you guys we'll hopefully have more news soon but i just had to say how excited i am :D

[ultrabloodshed]

Nivannedy Week Day 6: Gentle + "You may be an idiot, but you're my idiot."

It's almost end of this event and now the last one tomorrow will be lost !! :DD @nivannedyweek

[ultrabloodshed]

Nivannedy Week Day 4: Finding Chris

I forgot to add Leon's stubble again... and also, see ? this Prompt I choose: Finding Chris is hard to draw for me like look at this shit, It's so bad bye 😭 (I'm sorry okay)

But anyways, day 4 and 3 more days left !! tomorrow will be "I didn't know where else to go." ! @nivannedyweek