Aromantic/Graysexual.26. Socialist. Photography. Anime. Autumn. Pastel Aesthetic. Kawaii Korean and Japanese things. Fairy Kei. Geeky. History. Cosmos. Vintage things. BTS
synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.
warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon
word count: 15k
a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❤️
I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS
Life can be a bitch sometimes.
This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude.
But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him.
The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become.
There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there.
But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back…
His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?
Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home.
Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t.
It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him.
After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you.
Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if… and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities.
After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival.
II. RINSE AND REPEAT
He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost.
Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.
At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.
This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.
Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it.
Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life.
After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day.
After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.
Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so… gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused.
“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.
“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him.
“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."
"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.
“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity.
“I… have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.
“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.
“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.
“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.
“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.
“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise.
“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual.
At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you.
“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile.
“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little.
“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so…”
“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean…”
“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”
“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.
“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand.
Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market.
His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality.
However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast?
“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi”
“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I… um…”
“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words.
“No… I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so…”
“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings.
“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.
“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings.
“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves.
“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again.
"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity.
“You might think I’m weird, but… seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense.
“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time.
“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings.
“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it.
“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments.
“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase.
“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity.
“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier”
“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood.
“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise.
“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips.
“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips.
The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself.
He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life.
Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks.
What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong?
His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!
The future is a hell that’s only getting worse.
III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING
You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.
However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else.
After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.
“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning.
“Hi… um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up”
“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again.
“I know it's late, but… I was thinking about that dinner…” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and… talk?”
“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him.
“Of course. At seven?”
“At seven, it is,” you smiled again.
As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between… two friends? Could you possibly be his friend?
Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions.
Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other.
Betrayal is the word that defines Leon.
He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go.
Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy.
At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought.
“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you.
“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”
“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks.
"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines.
“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place.
You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends.
“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity.
“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses.
“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad.
Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this.
“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken… what happened to your neck?”
Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew.
“I, um… got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past.
“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage.
“It’s nothing… trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine”
“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek.
Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it.
“I don’t know what on earth happened to you…” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk”
Leon was reaching his breaking point.
He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are.
“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t”
When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane.
“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go”
After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while.
However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again.
June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA
“It might create more problems than it solves…” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.
Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him.
“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame…” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon… It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess”
He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality.
“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!”
The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone.
“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.
He pulls the trigger.
And there’s only blood.
He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you.
“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home”
“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be.
“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips.
“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude”
“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well.
“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly.
You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice.
He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent.
“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs.
“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his.
IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN
The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that.
The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.
Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in.
The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night.
Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.
Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."
Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.
"Target approaching."
As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.
"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise.
The Porsche approached the garage.
"GO," Leon said sharply.
At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat.
Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded.
A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.
Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him.
Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up.
There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death… an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.
He feels paralyzed.
It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring.
It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands.
“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness.
Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before.
“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I… don’t want to be alone”
“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd.
You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock.
“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention.
“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly.
“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time”
You saw him reach the breaking point.
Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.
After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this.
But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life.
“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead”
“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words.
“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin.
“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down.
“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe… it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack.
“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope.
Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows.
“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently.
Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe.
“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair.
“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on.
“Just a nightmare…” he whispers, trying to calm down again.
“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know.
“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again.
“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room.
“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a… broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life”
The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed.
“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine…” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."
No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode.
“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone”
After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one.
Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.
“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast”
“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet.
“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you… for sticking up with me last night”
“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do”
“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell”
You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space.
“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast.
“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago.
“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it”
Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine.
Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him.
You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet.
“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot”
“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.
“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers.
“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.
“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore”
“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully.
Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is… peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease.
“If I ask you a favor…” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation.
“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation.
“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen.
“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them.
Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations.
“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him.
“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense.
“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile.
When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?
He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination.
“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.
“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.
Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life.
“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before.
“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags.
“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now… I don’t think about that anymore”
He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again.
“I used to be scared of the morgue… but coming here with you… is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone”
“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness.
But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye.
“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags.
The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.
Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger.
“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this”
V. ACCEPTANCE
After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.
You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise.
It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.
“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel.
“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity.
“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college”
“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours.
“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers.
“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that”
“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers.
“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling.
“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way… I have something for you”
Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do.
“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday”
“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box.
He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you.
“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you.
“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it.
“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly.
“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it”
“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job… I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but…”
“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence.
“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that.
“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him.
“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma.
You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way.
“Start with something like… why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs.
“I… um… I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things”
“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?”
Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this.
“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive”
While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls.
“After that night… everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but…” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath.
“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day… you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night…” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault”
Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top.
Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.
"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.
"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.
Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.
"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.
"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.
Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression.
"I'm on vacation."
"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.
"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.
"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.
"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.
"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.
Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.
"Cancel the beer."
"No, it's not canceled."
“Come on… what the fuck?!”
"I don't need any more alcohol."
"Cut it out. What's going on?"
"That's my line."
The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.
"You–!" Chris leaned forward.
"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.
Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.
"...What's the situation?" he asked.
Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues,
"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization."
The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice.
"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess,"
Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.
"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"
"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.
"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."
With a hesitant tone, Leon continues
“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."
Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power.
"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.
"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.
Tension fills the air between them once again.
"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."
"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.
They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.
"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies.
"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues.
"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."
Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.
"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.
"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.
Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student.
"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."
As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.
"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."
Rebecca glances lightly at Leon.
"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."
Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.
"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."
Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table.
"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."
"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.
There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that.
"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.
Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.
"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.
She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.
"She's a great woman," Leon comments.
"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile.
And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago.
"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.
"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response.
"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..."
Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.
"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."
Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence.
"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.
"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well… I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”
"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.
“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."
Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.
"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."
He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain.
Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."
Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head.
“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up.
“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes.
“Listen… something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek.
“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy.
“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you.
“Ok… I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep.
Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him.
Before you, Leon was ready to die.
He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed.
But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you.
It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine.
The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton.
"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."
The merged form kicked out.
The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.
Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.
"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.
"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.
In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way.
Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.
Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.
What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end…
VI. ABSOLUTION
When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed.
After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back.
“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room.
“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you.
“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles.
“Well… I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living… since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job.
“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity.
“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed… thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me…”
“Wait, wait, wait… slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home… I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you”
Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday… and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.
“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears.
“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.
“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead.
After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents.
“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home.
“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him.
“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.
You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you.
“Mom, dad… this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations.
“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red.
“So… um… how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon.
“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so…”
“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips.
Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love.
“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room.
“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody.
“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “
“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck.
“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin.
“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you.
The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too.
“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck.
“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear.
He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you.
“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest.
You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful.
Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you.
“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears.
Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already.
However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that.
When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone.
Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again.
“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck.
“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly.
“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck.
“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him.
After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.
Things I watch out for when considering if a Roman history blog/community/media might have fascist leanings:
"Ironic" jokes that demean groups of people. These are often a cover for normalizing real prejudice against those groups.
Various dogwhistles and hate symbols. Also, check out the early warning signs of fascism.
Glorification of the military or the empire's size. It's one thing to be interested in a subject, but fascists tend to ignore the many problems of Rome's military and government, like corruption, mistreatment of veterans, abuse toward non-Roman people, and the occasional genocide.
Justifying historical oppression or abuse. This is different from merely explaining or trying to understand something. In case someone simply worded something poorly, I look at their additional posts or ask for clarification. If there's a pattern of downplaying/excusing oppression, that's a bad sign.
Power fantasies. Does a person (or community) seem to identify with the conquerors and overlords, because of their power? A person making jokes about Cicero's shitty poetry, or Augustus wearing platform shoes, is probably here for a different reason than someone talking about "putting the barbarians in their place."
Ignoring women's experiences, queer history, slaves and working-class experiences, and cultural diversity. At best this could just be a newbie who hasn't gotten around to those topics yet, which is fine. Learning takes time. But if a community, historian, or professionally published work makes Rome look like it's composed solely of rich white cishet guys...there is a problem.
Flattening history into Romans vs. outsiders. "Us vs. them" themes, also seen as "civilization vs. barbarians," or "virtue vs. moral decline/degeneracy," is endemic to bigoted worldviews. Not only is it demeaning toward other cultures, it also erases how multicultural and changeable Roman identity was over time.
Also, any modern person who seriously attributes Rome's fall to "moral decline" or "degeneracy" is either deeply ignorant or using a dogwhistle for homophobia, antisemitism and racism. Also, using "barbarian" or "savage" unironically.
Be extra alert for antisemitism. Shit like justifying Hadrian's actions, bringing up Jews when discussing Roman debt problems, or idolizing Vespasian or Titus. The Romans did a lot of bad shit in Judaea, and sometimes those stories attract antisemites today.
Use of the past to justify present-day harm or anger. Fascists and racists tend to get attached to "tradition" or "the good old ways" - or what they think is tradition - believing that this makes their bigotry more "normal" instead of "bizarre, hateful and reactionary." But just because something was common in the ancient world doesn't mean it's a good idea today.
There's a lot of anger and bitterness in fascist communities in general, in fact. Many people fall into the "alt-right pipeline" because their personal lives are deeply troubled, and those places give them someone to blame and feel superior to. If hanging out in a community seems to be making you angrier, more suspicious, or looking down on certain kinds of people, think carefully about whether this is a good community to be in.
And finally...fascists aren't all that interested in history. They care about their myth of good guys vs. evil outsiders, and they warp history to fit into that narrative. They might like the aesthetics, or symbols, or idolize a few famous dudes or battles. But rarely do they know, or care, about how Roman society worked, or how it changed over time, or anything less "glorious." Rarely do they actually want to learn or put in effort. My favorite example of "fascist laziness" is Mussolini's terrible film about Scipio Africanus, in which you can see telephone wires and the extras wearing wristwatches.
Feel free to add to this list. I am not an expert at spotting this stuff, and I probably missed some things. But I figured this might be a good starting point for others, too. Don't use this list to make "callouts" or harass people - it's usually more effective to block, avoid, and report extremists than to give them more visibility.
Conversely, a great way to protect yourself from falling into the alt-right pipeline is to learn more about how diverse the Roman world was! Check out studies of ancient women, disabilities, queer people, and decolonizing the classics! Not only will they broaden your horizons, they're also fascinating in their own right.
He has a sensitive chest and loves when you put your hands on it, warm or cold it doesn’t matter as long as their gentle and your looking up at him he folds.
Tugging his hair-if you tug his hair expect a growl that turns into a chuckle as he pulls you closer
He’s quiet other then the occasional groan or growl
He heals quickly so when you leave your marks on him he wants you to bite as deep as you can so he can keep them longer
Virgin™️ no one can tell me otherwise
Researched virgin however - he’s read books when he can, their hidden somewhere outside his apartment because he doesn’t want anyone to see (he knows Hojo’s put bugs in his apartment he just can’t find them)
Speaking of bugs he refuses to let you over until he knows for sure his apartment is safe
So midnight rendezvous ensue
Going back to books for a sec I feel he has a guilty pleasure for romance - and smut he learns most of his moves from those books and even if you can tell you don’t say anything because he looks awkward and adorable
He first kiss with you wasn’t magical like in all his books, he was clumsy and on guard not wanting anyone to ruin this moment, he actually knocked his teeth against yours but the second one was much better
He wants to have a normal life and you make him feel like a normal person, not treating him as some god or hero just another person and he appreciates that
The first sexual encounter you two have was you riding his thigh
He cums a lot, it’s thick and usually fills you until you leak
Tastes bitter but the right amount of bitter it’s not overpowering
Genesis
Praise this man, he may have an ego but it works in your favour
Also likes hair tugging
Honestly feel like Genesis is the most freaky out of the trio- it’s the red leather that gives it away/j
Bet he would have nipple piercings if he was allowed
And a cock piercing
But anyway
His neck is super sensitive and unlike sephiroth he’s loud, especially if you get embarrassed
Moans and panting would fill the room
He prefers leaving marks on you but doesn’t mind if you litter his thighs and chest with marks
He’s not a virgin but he’s also not as experienced as he lets on feel he’s been with two or three partners
He may be a freak but he’s not afraid to be soft and vulnerable with you if your a long time partner
Likes being pampered
Hero complex- definitely into master and dom stuff
He cums a lot less then sephiroth but it’s still quite a bit
He tastes sweet and salty
Angeal
Lovely man, home maker his thighs are his most sensitive area scrape your nails against them and he’s a goner
Not into hair pulling he’s softer then the other two- more vanilla
King of aftercare, the other two do it but I feel Angeal is just better at it focuses more on you then himself (not to say the other two are selfish or anything he just seems the type to pamper his partner)
Honestly I don’t see him with a high sex drive like he would enjoy it and never say no to you (unless really not in the mood) but he rarely seeks it out
When he does it’s usually after a mission or after training the adrenaline spiking it
A secret romantic more modest then Genesis though
Would take you to a secluded area to watch the sunset/rise
Always walks closer to the road so he can protect you
He cums the least out of the three and unless prompted won’t fill you up
It tastes salty and he doesn’t mind if you can’t swallow
I also feel all three of them would have stronger breeding instincts after a mako injection- they all have breeding kinks- I don’t make the rules
I believe all soldiers have a breeding kink they just get stronger the more mako you get
Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️
Not So Subtle
pairing : sephiroth x female!reader
summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.
a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)
“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream.
“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours.
“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.”
“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.
“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.
Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.
Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand.
There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.
“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.”
“Can you even talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you sitting here staring..?”
“He’s training..”
“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible.
But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable.
“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh.
“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..”
“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth.
His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.
He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.
“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.”
“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth.
“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face.
“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.”
“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.”
“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care.
Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you.
He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught.
You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again.
“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?”
“He saw me.”
“What?”
“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.
“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”
You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine.
“This is so pathetic…”
“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.”
“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you.
You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too.
“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious.
“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?”
“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.”
“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.”
You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack.
He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood.
“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.”
“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently.
“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking.
At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you.
“Is there a problem?”
“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes.
“I see now..”
“See what?”
“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.
“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?”
He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost.
“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?”
When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.
Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing.
“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours.
“F…for ignoring you.”
“So you ignore me?”
“No!”
“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?”
“For not talking to you.”
“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”
“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone.
“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.”
You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”
You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips.
“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again.
“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red.
“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly.
Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.
His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw.
When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed.
Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”
His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.
“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly.
“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.
You’d, quite literally, bumped into him one day. Rufus had been in for a very brief visit, or so you’d been told. Tseng said he’d only been in the building for a grand total of an hour, but before he’d left he’d requested that one of the Turks escort you to the bookshop, to which Tseng had happily agreed. You hadn’t been in months, so the result had been you picking up nearly every book you set your eyes on that looked remotely interesting. Tseng had escorted you safely back to the headquarter’s ground floor before heading off on other business. You were ecstatic about your new haul and the fact that you’d been outside for the first time in ages, so you would be forgiven that your attention was solely on the bag of treasures you held in your hands as you headed on autopilot towards the elevator, not expecting any obstacles to be in your way. It was then that you’d strode confidently into an unmoveable object, so strong that you fell backwards and your bag spilled, books scattering to the floor.
You looked up at what had blocked your path and saw the tall figure of the imposing Soldier, famous for his red leather coat as he looked down at you, momentary confusion across his face.
“I’m so sorry!” You bowed your head, realising just who you’d ran into. You’d crossed paths at events sometimes when Father deemed it necessary, but the two of you had never spoken. Why would you?
“Are you all right?” He’d crouched down in front of you.
“Yes, thank you.” You nodded, keeping your head down as you got up to your knees and started to gather your fallen books. You were reaching for one when a gloved hand beat you to one. Genesis Rhapsodos’ eyes lit up at the title.
“Now, this is an interesting one.”
“You’ve read it?” You didn’t mean to sound surprised and hoped he wouldn’t be offended. You’d only ever seen him with a rather beloved copy of Loveless.
“I have. I won’t spoil it for you though, Ms Shinra.” He smiled. You blushed at the realisation he knew exactly who you were.
“I heard people at the bookshop saying it’s trying to be a knock-off Loveless, but I couldn’t help myself.” You began to pack the books back into the paper bag.
“No comment,” he passed you another two titles. “But nothing holds up to the original.” Genesis watched as you carefully placed the volumes in the bag before he offered you his hand. You accepted – it would be rude not to – and he easily pulled you up to your feet. “I must commend you for your excellent taste – I wasn’t aware you were such an avid reader. Forgive my abrupt remark, but is this why we see so little of you?”
You blushed again at that – he knows who you are and enough to note your absence?
“I…” You hesitated. The reason everyone saw so little of you was that Father hardly gave you permission to do anything but stay in your room. Some days you’d tried to leave and found a Soldier stationed at your door, requesting you stay in there today for your own safety. On the days you were allowed out of your room, you weren’t permitted to leave the building unless escorted, so you spent the day wandering the hallways of places you did have access to, or could follow in the elevator.
You swallowed, “I’m sorry if I’ve come across as rude with my absence, I didn’t mean to. You’re all so busy and I don’t want to be an intrusion to anyone until I can contribute.”
Genesis nodded, but you were pretty sure he could tell you were lying. “Well, permit me to escort you back to your quarters to ensure these books arrive safely at their destination without any further incident.”
“That’s very kind but unnecessary, General. I’ll be perfectly fine from here. I promise to look where I’m going this time.”
“I insist, Ms Shinra. Why shouldn’t a general’s duties include escorting a young lady like yourself safely home?” He then deftly snatched the bag from your hand, holding the books hostage. “Besides, I would like to see what else you’ve purchased today – I’m always looking for recommendations.”
You hesitated, but surely you couldn’t get in trouble over this? He was a General in Soldier and you could hardly boss him around. “That would be very kind, General.”
“Please, call me Genesis.” He replied, offering the crook of his arm. You prayed your face hadn’t gone completely red as you slid your arm through. “Now, tell me, which one are you going to read first?”
You’d made polite conversation back to your quarters, but you couldn’t help yourself when you saw Genesis’ eyes widen as your door slid open, revealing your imposing bookshelves. Your quarters were small but it wasn’t like you entertained. There was a bathroom to the side, and a split living room and sleeping area. You had bookshelves lining all of the walls – a collection you’d started when you were quite young.
“If you have time, you can come in and have a look through the shelves. That’s only if you wanted to, I mean…” You trailed off, cursing yourself. He was a general, surely he had dozens of things to do rather than escort the likes of you back to your quarter and then look through your books…
“I’d love to.”
He’d stayed in your room for nearly an hour, marvelling over the contents of your bookshelves whilst you packed away your new purchases and noted them down in a notebook you kept. You’d told him he could borrow anything he liked the look of and he’d slowly began a small pile on the table. Eventually, his phone had rang. You’d busied yourself with something, not wanting to ease drop but the conversation had been monosyllabic on his side before he hung up.
“My sincerest apologies, but duty calls.” He forced a smile. “I must thank you once again for your hospitality, Ms Shinra.”
“The pleasure’s been all mine - I’ve enjoyed the company. Please, don’t forget your books.” You gestured to the pile and he hesitated, before snatching only one off the top.
“How about I take this one for now? Then I could call upon you again for the next, if you’d have me, that is.” He smirked at that.
“I’d… I’d like that.” You smiled, your heart skipping a beat.
“Excellent.” Genesis headed towards the door, before spinning on his heels and taking your hand instead. “Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before he strode out the door, your face matching the red of his coat perfectly.
Cringe started as a verb describing a physical reaction, i.e.: "I cringe when I see [x]."
Modern slang has turned cringe into an adjective describing anything to which a person might have such a reaction.
.
This shift in language is illustrative of a shift in culture.
.
For a while there, in the early 2000s, there was this big sex positivity movement and we talked openly about kink and queer sexuality and creating a culture of consent that broke away from traditional conservative ideas of moral respectability.
And now we are in the midst of this giant purity culture backlash, this giant push for rigid conformity all over the internet. Anything that deviates from the norm even remotely is ridiculed.
And this cultural shift is perfectly encapsulated in this singular linguistic shift, this verb becoming a noun.
The Revenge of the Pearl Clutchers
That's what "cringing" is. It's pearl clutching.
When the pearl clutchers turned cringe into an adjective, they turned a reaction into an accusation. The pearl clutchers don't want to take responsibility for their own kneejerk emotions. They want to blame YOU.
They are saying, "My disgust isn't the fault of my own backwards prejudices. It is YOU who are inherently disgusting. My inability to cope with even the slightest deviation from norm is not the problem here. YOUR refusal to rigidly conform is the problem. I am not the one who is cringing. YOU are the one who is cringe."
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