You know what my problem is? My brain goes too fast. What do you mean I'm now weeks deep into a Janitor Chat with Post RE9 Leon who glitches into our world, where he is a video game character... he fell in love and now they're married with children. I WANT TO PUT THIS STORY ON PAPER. IM ACTUALLY SICK.
*but then im still writing my silly little slow burn fic of RE4 leon. There is not enough time in the day.*
My art skill consists of cute lil animals and very basic people. So when I say it physically PAINS ME that I cannot draw my OC and their partners in cute poses it actually PHYSICALLY PAINS ME 😩
Summary: Leon and Noelle continue through the forest in search of shelter, but surviving the Ganados proves to be only one of the challenges ahead. As the two begin to rely on one another, Leon finds himself questioning his first impression of the woman he once saw as a liability.
Notes: Noelle has chronic migraines in this series - they will be filtered in this series.
This series is planned to be 18+ MINORS DNI
Competence
*Leon*
The air felt thicker since Leon picked up Noelle. The weight of the responsibility for another person’s life settled heavily on his shoulders.
It meant extra rations. Extra focus and, well, double everything.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they hugged the shadowed wall. Noelle’s eyes remained on him, but every few seconds she would look away to sweep the perimeter.
That’s good.
As they moved down an alleyway, swallowed by the building’s shadows, Leon’s hand snapped up, signalling to stop. Noelle’s footsteps stilled.
A guttural wet moan cut through the air. Leon’s pulse kicked once. He glanced over his shoulder and held a single finger to his lips.
He lowered his centre of gravity and moved deeper into the shadows with tactical precision—every step measured. At the corner of the building, he flattened against the wall and peered around it.
There. A stray.
His hand moved to his belt, and he unsheathed his combat knife. The soft click sounded like a gunshot in the silence. Leon froze, his shoulders tensing while he listened. The figure swayed but didn’t turn.
Leon raised his palm behind him, an instruction for Noelle to stay still. Her body froze in place.
With his knife in hand, he crouched and stalked slowly towards the target. His boots barely touched the ground, six years of training evident in every step.
Three more steps.
Two.
One.
Leon surged forward and rammed the blade up into the base of the Ganado’s skull. He gave one swift twist clockwise, then ripped out the blade. The monster crumpled; Leon’s arms immediately moved under it, slowing its fall.
Noise was a luxury.
As he set the body down on the ground, his eyes scanned the treeline for movement.
Clear.
Leon straightened his posture and headed toward Noelle. She was leaning against the corner of the building, arms folded as she watched him walk back.
Leon arched a brow at her as he wiped his blade and sheathed it.
“Consider me impressed.” A smirk tugged at her lips.
“That was kind of the idea.” Leon smiled. “Obviously.”
Noelle flashed a smile, and Leon’s chest tightened for the briefest moment.
Adrenaline.
Definitely adrenaline.
Nothing to do with her smile.
Not at all.
The silence was broken as Leon cleared his throat and straightened his posture once more, rolling his shoulders, as he shrugged off the effect of her smile.
“Tree line is clear. We’ll move through there.” He braced his hand on the wall, scanning around the corners one last time. “Depending on how long it takes us to make our way through it, we’ll rest through nightfall.”
Noelle glanced past him at the forestry. The subtle shift in her posture would’ve gone unnoticed by most. Leon wasn’t most people. The slight shift in posture, the way her eyes widened a fraction more.
“Hey?” He murmured and touched her elbow. “I got you. All you gotta do is listen and stay close.” He dipped his head, meeting her gaze. “Yeah?”
Noelle blinked twice and met his gaze, “Yeah… yeah okay. Sorry.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
His eyes lingered on hers for longer than necessary.
Assessing.
Checking for hesitation.
Making sure she wasn’t going to become a liability.
At least, that's what he told himself.
“Alright.” His hand released her elbow. “Behind me. Step where I step.” He paused. “Lower your centre of gravity. Like this.”
He dropped into a low, practised stance.
Noelle mirrored him almost perfectly.
“Look at you.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Keep this up and I might have to put in a recommendation.”
Leon jerked his head toward the forest and moved toward the nearest tree. His gaze swept the small clearing as they crossed. Each step was deliberate. A glance over his shoulder confirmed Noelle was placing her feet exactly where he’d stepped.
Not bad.
He moved through the forest as silently as the wind through the trees.
Alert.
Every snap of a twig drew his attention. Every shift in the wind was registered.
Leon stopped. His hand raised. Noelle immediately stilled.
Wet guttural moans cut through the air, growing closer.
Shit.
Leon looked around for any cover.
There.
He caught Noelle’s hand and pulled her over a fallen tree, pressing them both into the earth. His body shielded hers from view.
“Shh” His whisper brushed her ear. Noelle gave a single nod. Her heartbeat hammered against his chest. He ignored it, listening instead to the footsteps drawing nearer.
Crunch. Slide. Crunch. Slide. Crunch…
Leon tensed.
It stopped moving.
His arms began to burn from holding his weight off Noelle. Sweat beaded along his forehead, but he held on. He waited until the creature began to move again.
Another moan sliced through the air.
Crunch. Slide. Crunch. Slide.
Leon squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. His arms trembled from the strain.
Warmth pressed against the sides of his chest as Noelle slowly shifted her hands to help support him.
His eyes flew open and locked with hers.
It helped. Slightly.
He counted to five after the footsteps disappeared before finally rolling off to the side.
“Your sweat got into my eye,” Noelle whispered.
“Yeah?” He huffed a soft laugh. “Next time I’ll bring goggles.”
Leon glanced over at her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.
“Buy me dinner first, yeah?” She whispered with a quiet laugh. “Before you go sweating on me.”
Leon let out a quiet snort.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pushed himself upright, already scanning the surrounding trees. “Come on, let’s get through this and find somewhere to hole up.”
Once he got to his feet, he extended his hand and helped Noelle to hers.
***
The rest of the trek through the forest passed in tense silence.
“Over there,” Leon jerked his head to the right toward a small stone cottage. “I’ll clear it first—”
He stopped mid-sentence as he saw Noelle’s face. Her brow furrowed in pain, and the corners of her mouth twisted.
“Hey? What’s going on?” His hand found her elbow. “Talk to me.”
“Migraine.” Her words are strained.
“Right.” Leon gently guided her behind the trunk of a nearby tree. “Stay here. Don’t move. Let me clear the house.”
He moved quickly, drawing his pistol as he nudged the door open with his foot. Hugging the wall, he swept each room with practised precision, muzzle leading the way. Every window. Every doorway. Every blind corner. Once satisfied that the house was secure, he barred as many entry points as he could.
Leon returned to Noelle and offered her a hand. Once she was on her feet, he stayed close, one hand hovering at the small of her back in case her balance gave out.
As soon as they were inside, Leon shut the door and slid the bolt into place. Only then did he guide her to the worn sofa.
“What do you need?” He knelt in front of her. “You got any meds?”
Noelle curled down onto the sofa, and she nodded slowly as she clutched her head. “Back pocket.”
Leon reached carefully into her back pocket and pulled free the blister pack.
The crinkle of the medicine sounded deafening in the silence.
“Here.” He held out the water bottle, waiting until she’d swallowed the tablets.
“Thanks.” She murmured, squeezing her eyes shut again.
Leon sat back for a moment, studying her face.
“You get these often?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Noelle whispered.
Leon nodded once. “Sleep. I’ve got watch.” He settled against the wall beside the couch, pistol resting across his thigh as his eyes returned to the windows.
For the next two hours, he drifted in and out of a light sleep, waking at every unfamiliar sound.
The sound of the couch creaking pulled him immediately back into focus.
Noelle slowly sat up and looked around the room. Her eyes were still slightly glazed over from the aftermath of her pain.
“Hey.” He moved forward. “How’s the head?”
“Better… thanks.” Noelle pressed her palms to her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.
“Sorry?” Leon frowned. “For something out of your control?”
She looked at him, her eyes soft and sad. She nodded twice.
“I guess it’s pretty clear why I’m not on the force anymore, huh?” She huffed a self-deprecating laugh.
Leon held her gaze for a moment before his attention shifted to her hands. They twisted together in her lap… a stark contrast to the playful confidence she’d shown all day.
“Wasn’t a choice then?” He asked quietly
“No.” She whispered. “Not a choice.”
Leon watched the light leave her eyes. He’d seen that look before, the kind that came from wounds no bandage could cover.
Something tightened in his chest. This wasn’t the kind of pain medication or sleep could fix.
“I understand if you think it’s too much risk.” She paused. “You have important stuff to do. I’m a liability.”
The way she said that word wasn’t lost on him. He could see the way her mouth pulled, the slight crack in her voice. She’d been called that before.
He’d bet his life on it.
Guilt twisted in his stomach.
“Bullshit,” Leon grumbled, and he moved in front of her in two steps. “Don’t give me that crap.”
His gaze finds hers.
“You've listened, you've kept your head, and you've done exactly what I've asked of you. That's not a liability.” His hand found her elbow. “So you get migraines. We'll adjust.” He gave a small shrug. “Just tell me the moment you feel one coming.”
Noelle sat there for a moment, watching him. Her eyes softening, her posture relaxing.
She nodded once.
“Good,” Leon murmured. “No more pity parties, yeah?” The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “I’ll think you’re fishing for compliments.”
She smiled, and a warmth settled somewhere behind his ribs.
“Damn.” She sighed. “I gotta work on being more subtle, I guess.”
Leon let out a quiet laugh.
“Good luck. I’ve been told I’m painfully observant.” A lopsided smirk pulled at his lips. Before he could think better of it, he gave her a quick wink.
… Where the hell did that come from?
He cleared his throat, reached into his pack and pulled out two granola bars, handing one to her.
Your new neighbor Leon (and probably the entire street), overhears an altercation outside as you kick out your cheating ex.
Female reader x Leon
POV: 2nd Person
Word count: 2723
MINORS DNI 18+ !!
Potential Triggers: domestic altercation (kinda, OC punches her ex coz hes scum), unprotected sex, lil bit of soaking (briefly), OC gets tied up
If I've missed anything please tell me.
Please forgive me if there are any mistakes. I've had no sleep lol.
*********
“I said, leave, asshole!” Your voice echoed down the quiet suburban street.
Mark, your boyfriend. No. Your ex-boyfriend, stood in your driveway with bloodshot eyes and that same pathetic expression he’d worn all morning.
All an act.
“You’re being ridiculous!” He shouted. “I was drunk!”
You barked out a laugh. “Oh, right.” You threw your hands into the air. “That makes it SO much better.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” He spread his arms dramatically. “You want me to beg? I’ll beg.”
You hear your new next-door neighbour’s door open. You pity him in the back of your mind, having to hear the chaos, but you keep your rage pointed at the useless boy in front of you.
“I want you…” Your voice cracked from shouting. “…to leave.” Silence hung for a beat. “Now, Mark.”
He stepped forward.
“You take one more step,” you warned, your fist clenching at your side, “and I swear to God I am going to punch you.”
He took another.
Idiot.
The crack of your fist against his nose echoed through the street.
“What the—.” Blood poured between his fingers as he lurched toward you. “You crazy bitch!”
He reached for your arm and then he disappeared.
One second he was lunging, the next he was airborne. He hit the lawn with enough force to wind him.
You blinked in confusion.
A pair of worn combat boots stopped beside him. Your gaze lifted. The man from next door stood over Mark, hands casually tucked into the pockets of a dark jacket as though throwing grown men across lawns was just another Tuesday.
“I think,” he said evenly, “she wants you to leave.”
Mark groaned, glaring up at him. “The fuck do you want, old man?”
The stranger sighed. “Old man?” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “… That’s rude.” He looked back down at Mark.
“You’ve got two options.” His voice stayed calm. “You can walk away” A pause. “Or she gets another swing.”
He nodded in your direction. A smug smile settled on your lips as you folded your arms and looked down at the pathetic boy on the floor.
Your head tilted in a silent challenge. The stranger caught the gesture, and the corner of his mouth lifted just a little more.
Mark climbed to his feet, clutching his nose. “My lawyer is going…” he stumbled back a moment, “to ruin you.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Right. We’ll see,” you gave a careless shrug. “You were basically trespassing.”
That shut him up.
You watched as he shuffled toward his car, shoulders hunched, his tail firmly tucked between his legs.
A satisfied smirk tugged at your lips.
It didn’t last long. Pain shot through the knuckles of your right hand.
“Ow… shit.” You glanced down. Angry purple bruises were already blooming across your knuckles.
“Hey.” The stranger’s voice was quiet as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on your hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He gently turned your hand over, his thumb hovering near the swelling without pressing on it.
A low whistle escaped him. “Yeah…” He glanced over the bruising already darkening your knuckles. “You’re going to feel that tomorrow.”
He looked up.
Pale blue eyes met yours, sharp, watchful, and carrying a kind of exhaustion that seemed older than the silver peppered through his blond hair. A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his strong jaw, softening features that might have otherwise looked severe.
He was taller than you’d thought. Broad shoulders filled out a worn leather jacket, making you suddenly aware of how close he was… and how small you felt standing beside him.
Say something.
You were staring.
“I’m [Y/N].” You blurt out.
Oh my god.
Heat rushed from your neck to the tips of your ears.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he caught the blush creeping across your face.
“Leon.”
“Well, Leon...” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Thanks for... you know.” You cleared your throat. “Stepping in.”
“Don't mention it.” He gave a small shrug before glancing back at your hand. “You got anything at home to wrap that?”
You looked down at the bruises blooming across your knuckles.
“No. I was going to grab something later.”
Leon turned toward his house.
“Come on.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“I've got a first-aid kit.”
You followed closely behind him. If you were still twenty and living at home, your parents would have murdered you for following a man into his home. But he seemed… alright.
Besides, he didn’t have to help you.
As you stepped inside his home, you noticed how empty it felt. It was only filled with the necessary items.
A couch, a TV, a small coffee table. No pictures hung on the walls, no plants tucked into the corners of the room. Nothing that hinted at the person who lived here.
“I know.” His voice pulled you from your thoughts. A quiet huff of laughter escaped him as he caught you looking around.
“I’m a minimalist.”
“Yeah…” You chuckled. “Hey, I’m not judging.” A grin tugged at your lips. “Less to clean.”
“Damn right.” He answered with a lopsided grin.
It was small and brief. But it was enough to make your stomach do an embarrassing flip.
“Sit.” His head inclined toward the couch.
You did.
The cushion dipped beneath your weight as he settled onto the coffee table in front of you, close enough that your knees nearly touched. He reached for your injured hand and began wrapping your bruised knuckles with practised ease.
“You a doctor, or something?”
A quiet huff escaped him. “Or something.”
His pale blue eyes flicked up to meet yours before returning to your hand. You took the hint and let it drop, not pressing further. You weren’t one to pry.
As he finished up with your hand, he turned it over gently once more, inspecting his work.
“Am I gunna make it, doc?” You teased.
Another brief lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He released your hand.
“It was close.” A quiet, breathless laugh escaped him. “No more time in the ring, yeah?”
“Yes, sir. I’m officially hanging up the gloves.” You paused. “At least until another boyfriend decides to cheat.”
He gave a small nod.
“Aim higher next time.”
“Note taken.”
A moment of silence ticked by. His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes.
“What’s the plan then?” He paused, “After this one?”
“Oh, you know. What’s that saying about getting under someone?” Your laugh filled the space between you.
Leon went still. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “…Right.”
The humour drained from your face. “Sorry. Shit— stupid joke.”
He stared at you for a long moment.
“He’s a damn fool, you know?” He shifted forward; his knees brushed against yours. “Fumbling you?” His head shook.
“It’s hardly a loss.” You shrug it off. “He was awful in the bedroom.” You laughed. “Wasted my entire twenties being with someone who couldn’t even—”
You stopped yourself, and heat climbed up your neck. “… You know what? That’s way too much information.”
You buried your face in your good hand for a second.
“Sorry, Leon.”
A stray lock of hair slipped across your face. As you looked back up, he closed the distance.
He was only a breath away when the back of his fingers brushed your temple, gently sweeping the strand behind your ear. His hand lingered for the briefest moment, fingertips grazing your cheek.
Warmth bloomed beneath your skin. Your gaze dropped to his lips before you could stop it.
He noticed.
His eyes lingered on yours for a heartbeat, searching.
“...Fuck it.”
He leaned in and claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, as though he'd spent the last several minutes talking himself out of doing exactly this.
Heat shot straight to your core, and you groaned against his lips.
This is insane. What the fuck am I doing?
Your thoughts tried to bring you back to reality, but then you felt his hands gripping your waist. He effortlessly pulled you onto his lap in a straddle.
His hand cupped your jaw, and with a press of his thumb to your chin, he opened your mouth.
The contact of his tongue against yours sent a ripple of pleasure straight to your core.
As you pressed yourself further into his lap, the hardened length in his trousers ground against your aching centre.
His hand gripped your waist as he groaned into your lips.
“Tell me to stop.” He rasped, breathless.
“Not happening.” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and slowly pulled.
His body tensed, and you felt the minute his restraint gave way.
His hands cupped the underside of your thighs, tugging you closer to him. He stood in one quick motion, carrying you effortlessly down his hallway to his bedroom.
He kicked the door shut with his boot behind him and threw you on his bed. His massive frame towered over you.
The bed dipped as he moved with predatory grace, holding himself above you, pressing his caged arousal against your centre.
“You feel that?” He murmurs into your neck and nips at the skin. Your body jolted at the sensation, and a groan escaped your lips. “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream for me.”
He took his time peeling back your layers of clothing, carefully avoiding your injured hand.
As you lay there naked on his bed, he leaned back and let his eyes rake over you.
“Beautiful.” He breathed out. “I’m going to take my time with you.” His calloused hand cupped your breast, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb across your nipple.
“How old are you?” He asked as he opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a delicate black silk rope.
Your mouth dried. “Thirty.”
His mouth twitched. “You said you wasted your twenties on that pathetic boy?”
All you could do in that moment was nod as you let him tie the black silk around your wrists.
“Well,” He gave a final tug, ensuring your hands were pinned back, “You’re with a man now, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready.”
He shifted position, sliding down between your legs. He didn’t touch you directly, not yet.
Instead, he used his nose and lips to nuzzle along the inside of your thighs, inhaling the scent of your skin and the heat pouring off you.
The way you squirmed only made him more determined to prolong the torture.
After what felt like hours, he finally allowed his tongue to make contact, but only in the most maddening way possible, licking a slow, wet stripe from your knee up to the very edge of your core, stopping just shy of your centre.
He could feel your muscles quivering against him, your body practically screaming for release.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
A mewl sounded from your throat; your body arched involuntarily.
He couldn’t hold back any longer, he used the very tip of his tongue to trace maddeningly small circles directly over your clit. The pressure was precise, wet and excruciatingly slow.
He watched your face with ravenous intensity, savouring every whimper, every arch of your back, every desperate roll of your hips.
His hands gripped your thighs, digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving his mark there.
Good.
You didn’t want to forget this.
Ever.
“Beg for it.” He breathed against your soft flesh.
“Fuck… Leon.” Your voice rasped. “Please.”
“Good girl.” His voice was thick and dangerous.
The praise was the last thing before he acted. He didn’t hesitate anymore. He dived in, his tongue finding your clit with devastating accuracy and pressure. After all that teasing, the direct contact was like an explosion.
He licked with long, wet strokes, his tongue swirling and pressing with an intensity that was designed to push you over the edge.
Your body began to shake, and your hands tried to bring themselves down, but the restraints held.
“Oh… God.” A low groan reverberated through you.
“That’s it.” He said against your heat as he slid one finger inside you, curling it inward as his mouth took you again.
Your head tilted back as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. You felt your inner walls begin to clench, and the sensation at your clit began to release small waves of pleasure.
And then it happened.
Your body lifted from the bed, and he gripped the underside of your thighs, holding you in place as an orgasm ripped through you. He held you there, drinking in your release. His tongue lapped slowly against your heat, feeling every tremor.
“You did so good for me,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his voice rough with restrained desire. “Now it’s my turn.”
Leon’s pupils were blown wide, his expression one of raw, unfiltered hunger. He didn’t waste another second. He pulled back just enough to strip off his own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor.
He moved above you, pressing his skin to yours and paused.
“I’m on the pill.” You rasped, as if reading his thoughts.
He groaned in satisfaction at the statement.
Leon positioned himself between your thighs. His cock already slick and aching. He guided himself to your entrance and pushed inside slowly, stretching you, letting you adjust to him.
Once he was buried deep, Leon let out a sound that was half groan, half growl, his eyes squeezing shut.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He rasped, his voice raw but steady.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one designed to maximise the contact. He wanted you to feel the weight of him.
“Oh… Fuck… Leon.” You gasped.
Hearing his name come out of your mouth like a breathless prayer was the final straw. Leon’s grip on your hips tightened, his knuckles whitening as he drove into you with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.
“Look at me.” He growled, his voice dropping to a rough, gravelly register. “Look at me while I ruin you for every other man.”
He wanted to see your face when you broke. He wanted to witness the exact moment you lost control.
As he thrust into you his thumb found your clit once more and began rubbing tight circles against the sensitive flesh.
“Fuck.” You arched into him at the sensation.
“This is mine now.” He grunts.
You didn’t even care if you had just met him. You knew that nothing else would compare to this, so fuck it. Yeah, he could have you.
“Say it.” He taunted as he continued his relentless drive into your body.
“It’s yours. You can have it.” A mewl escapes from your lips.
He shifted his angle, hitting that perfect spot that made your body convulse around him. He could feel your climax building again, that familiar tightening of your muscles that told him you were right on the edge. His own breathing came in ragged, desperate bursts as he pushed himself toward his own peak.
“Leon… I’m going to—.”
“Fuck yes you are.” He interrupts his movements, becoming faster, more urgent as he drove you both toward the edge. “Come for me.”
Those words were the tipping point. Stars exploded behind your vision, your body convulsed while waves of pleasure shuddered through you.
As your walls clenched around him and pulsed, he drove into you one last time, deep and desperate, his entire body tensing as he finally let go. A guttural sound tore from his throat as he climaxed, his muscles locking up as he poured everything he had into you.
Leon didn’t pull away immediately; he couldn’t. He stayed buried deep inside you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he slowly came back down to earth.
He pressed a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple, his breathing still uneven.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Your heart was still hammering in your chest, ears ringing from the overwhelming feeling of him.
“I might punch someone else tomorrow.” You huffed out an exhausted laugh. “If this is what it gets me.”
He pulled back, and a lopsided grin settled on his features. “You’re mine now.” He chuckled.
“Come over anytime.” He paused. “I’d be glad to play doctor again.”
I have literally no one to talk to about this so I’m posting here because what do you mean my brain randomly decided one day that LEON KENNEDY IS GOING TO LIVE IN IT!!
The chokehold this fictional man has on me is SICKENING.
The way I’m writing the sweetest (and my dirtiest) fucking fiction where he falls in love and gets everything his sweet little heart deserves is actually concerning.
I cant. I have CRIED while mapping out the timeline and events.
A Fleeting Choice - Chapter 4 (Series: In Darkness, Hope Flickers)
I've finally gotten around to a new chapter! Something sweet to ease back into writing.
Here is chapter 4 in my series In Darkness, Hope Flickers.
Important Notes for series: I explore Ascended Astarion. In this world, I have chosen to have him find himself again as the series progresses. Now I know there are heated discussions that Ascended Astarion is bad (and I get it!) so please think of this as a re-imagining of his story where yes, he has a lapse in judgment out of fear and ascends. However, I think it would be beautiful to have him redeem himself, defying what it is to be a vampire lord. Eventually, breaking the cycle of abuse. There will also be some moments in this series with Lilah (tav) and Halsin as the story plays out. I won't say too much.
I hope you enjoy! This series is 18+ MINORS DNI
AO3 if you prefer
*Lilah*
“Mine.”
His voice fills your thoughts as you walk the streets of Faerun towards the docks; the chirping of birds fills the air as they wait for the sun to rise. The touch of his cool skin against yours, moving as one, is now a ghost of a memory, but it lingers there… even weeks later. You had hoped that maybe he had come to his senses when he claimed you on that table, when the word tumbled from his lips while his hands possessively clutched your thighs. But it didn’t last long.
There have been nights when he held you like he used to, but something still feels different, colder than usual. Moments where the mask slips and his words don’t match his actions, a command instead of a question, a display of power instead of something shared.
Your throat tightens as you watch the sun begin to rise over the harbour. At least you still have this… the sun. At least when he changed you, his blessing was passed down, even if it means that once the tadpole is gone, you are still bound… Only now your chains have a different master.
Yes… It could have been worse. Right?
Everything is set in motion now; Gortash will be leading you to the pools, where the elderbrain is currently placed. The poor man is too power-hungry to realise how easily you are playing him, how easily you pull his strings, bending him to your will. A small part of you pities the man you once carried a flame for, but things change… he chose his path, and you chose yours. He just walked the wrong one.
“Berry for your thoughts?” Halsin sits beside you and stares out toward the harbour.
“Berry?” You ask, a smile ghosts your lips.
He huffs a soft laugh. “I forgot the coin at the Tavern.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.
You shake your head and allow yourself to smile. “It’s funny, I can’t wait for all of this to be over… but then… There is a part of me that doesn’t want it to be.”
Halsin nods. “You long for rest.” He brings his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. “You also long for freedom. And in this moment, my heart, you are uncertain if that will be available to you once the tadpole is gone.”
He’s right. Gods, he’s right. Would Astarion still hold power over you? Would he reduce what you'd shared to something as cheap as watered-down wine in a roadside tavern?
You rest your head on Halsin’s shoulder.
“Halsin…” You begin, and the words catch in your throat.
“Hush. I know.” He pauses. “It does not make a difference to me. I know your heart is his. Nevertheless, I want to hold you. If you allow me.”
Gods… this man.
You sit in silence as the sun breaks the horizon, painting the harbour in a soft, warm glow.
“Are you not… hurt that I would choose him?” You ask quietly.
He waits a moment in thought.
“No. I am happy with what you give.” He shifts to look at you. “Even if it is fleeting. I will treasure it. When you are my age… You learn that things are more… fluid.”
“So no, I am not hurt.” His thumb brushes gently across your cheek. “Whatever part of yourself you choose to share with me, I will treasure. Whether it lasts a lifetime... or only until tomorrow.”
Mine.
The word echoes through your thoughts.
It feels heavier now than it did before. Sitting here beside Halsin, wrapped in the warmth of the rising sun, it no longer sounds like devotion.
It sounds like a chain.
“You would let me have you,” you ask quietly, “even when my heart belongs to someone else?”
Halsin smiles at you.
“Your heart was never mine to claim.”
Your eyes flutter closed for a moment as his thumb gently runs up your jawline.
“What would it mean if I allowed you to kiss me?” You breathe out.
He closes the distance until only a breath separates you. “It would mean that for this moment, the choice is yours.”
Choice.
You close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his.
Halsin melts into the kiss, one hand cupping your cheek while the other gently threads through your hair. There is no urgency, no expectation. He simply meets you where you are.
It is slow. Tender.
A stark contrast to Astarion's kisses of late, all hunger and possession, as though each one were a reminder of who you belonged to.
Halsin parts your lips with gentle care, the kiss deepening at a pace you set. His fingers remain laced through your hair, steady and reassuring. Your heart squeezes at its tenderness.
As you slowly pull away, you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For giving me this moment.”
“You did not need my permission to take it, my heart.” He brushes his nose gently against yours. “But I am grateful you chose to share it with me.”
