Ink Between Starlight

I genuinely don’t think Leon would ever cheat on his partner. It’s not that he thinks he’s above making mistakes, but rather that loyalty is such a fundamental part of who he is. Once he chooses someone, he’s all in. He has never seemed like the type to chase outside attention or get caught up in a fleeting moment, especially when his job already keeps him away from the people he loves far more than he’d like.

For Leon, trust means everything, and throwing it away for something temporary goes against the kind of person he’s always tried to be. If a relationship ever reached a point where he felt unhappy or disconnected, the guilt of betraying someone would eat him alive long before anything could actually happen. Instead, he would either try to fix things or, as painful as it would be, have the difficult conversation to end the relationship before ever crossing that line.

I honestly believe Leon is way more absent-minded than people assume. Not because he’s careless or forgetful when it actually matters, but because once he’s finally home, his brain is already somewhere else. He spends so much of his life having to be completely aware of everything around him that when he’s somewhere safe, he just mentally checks out. He’s the kind of person who’ll spend a few minutes looking for his keys before noticing they’ve been in his jacket pocket the entire time. He’ll walk into the kitchen, stand there for a second, and immediately forget why he went in there. Sometimes he’ll make himself a cup of coffee, set it down while he gets distracted by something else, then turn around a minute later wondering where he left it.

I feel like that same “I’ll do it in a second” brain fog is exactly why he’s awful at texting back. It’s never because he’s ignoring someone or doesn’t care. He’ll read a message, think about what he wants to say, maybe even type out a response in his head, and then put his phone down for “just a second.” Then two hours later, he’ll suddenly remember and send a completely random reply that makes no sense without context. Half the time, he’ll probably apologize afterward, even though he knows he’s done it a hundred times before.

When his brain is checked out like that, he has a habit of talking to himself without even noticing it. Not full conversations or anything, just little comments that slip out as he goes about his day. “Where’d I put that?” “Seriously?” “There it is.” If he drops something, it’ll usually earn a quiet curse under his breath before he picks it back up or a disappointed “of course.” He’ll mutter his way through whatever he’s doing, talking himself through the next step or complaining about an inanimate object that isn’t cooperating. It’s not even because he needs noise around him; it’s more like his thoughts just accidentally become words.

I think Leon grew up around Christianity in some form. Maybe it was church on Sundays, saying grace before dinner, or simply living in a community where believing in God was the norm. Nothing about it was especially strict. Faith was just another part of everyday life. He believed in the basic idea of a higher power, but it wasn’t something he actively leaned on or thought about all that much. It was simply there, like it is for a lot of people, until his life became anything but ordinary.

When Raccoon City happened, his faith didn’t disappear so much as it became complicated. It’s hard to go through everything Leon has and come out the other side seeing the world the same way. He’s watched innocent people die for no reason, seen parasites take over minds, and witnessed bioweapons that blur the line between life and death. He’s seen things that completely shattered his understanding of the world, and because of that, I don’t think he could confidently say he believes in God anymore, but I also don’t think he could confidently say he doesn’t.

He isn’t angry at God, nor does he blame a higher power for his suffering. It’s more that he simply stopped expecting anyone else to step in. The idea that everything happens for a reason just doesn’t fit with the pointless loss he’s witnessed. Somewhere along the way, Leon accepted that if there is something out there, it isn’t going to intervene down here, and he made peace with that a long time ago.

I don’t think Leon has ever been a particularly jealous person. If anything, he tends to give people a lot of space. He’s never struck me as someone who needs to know where his partner is every second or who they’re talking to. Trust is a big deal to him. If he’s with someone, it’s because he already trusts them. He’d much rather believe what they tell him than spend his time looking for reasons not to.

I do think he was a little more prone to jealousy when he was younger, though. Nothing over the top, just in the way a lot of people are when they’re young and still figuring relationships out. If he really liked someone and they seemed to click with somebody else, he’d probably take it more personally and start reading too much into little things that probably didn’t mean anything. It was never about wanting to control anyone. I just don’t think he’d learned yet that not every moment of uncertainty means you’re about to lose someone.

As he got older, I feel like he got a lot better at not letting those thoughts get to him. He still gets jealous sometimes. He’s still human. I just don’t think it ever gets the better of him. Leon isn’t the type to start an argument because someone is flirting with his partner or because they spent a little too long talking to somebody else. Most of the time, he’d brush it off with a joke or simply ignore it altogether. He trusts his partner enough that someone else showing interest doesn’t immediately make him assume the worst.

I like to think Leon has always been a bit of a dork, and that those terrible puns didn’t just appear out of nowhere. They were probably always a part of who he was. What changed was the reason behind them. After everything he’s been through, humor became more than just a way to make people laugh; it became one of the ways he keeps himself moving forward. It gives him something familiar to hold onto when everything around him feels completely out of control. I don’t think it makes him fearless, but it does help keep fear from taking over. It creates just enough distance for him to stay focused, think clearly, and do what needs to be done.

That’s why I feel like his sense of humor is a lot more important to him than people give it credit for. On the surface, it’s just dry wit, bad puns, and the occasional dad joke, but I don’t think he jokes because he doesn’t take things seriously. If anything, I think it’s the opposite. His humor doesn’t undermine the weight of a situation; it helps him carry it. Being able to crack a joke in the middle of something awful isn’t a sign that he isn’t affected by it. It’s just the way he holds onto a part of himself even when things get difficult.

That’s also why I think people sometimes misunderstand him. They tend to see him as either someone who is constantly trying to be funny, or someone who has become so worn down by his late forties that he barely laughs anymore. Neither extreme really captures who he is. He doesn’t laugh loudly very often, but you can usually tell when he’s amused because one corner of his mouth lifts before he can stop it. His humor isn’t a performance he puts on for an audience. It’s something that comes out naturally, whether or not anyone else is there to appreciate it.

I also don’t think he’s trying to be the funniest person in the room. His humor feels much more effortless and deadpan, usually something he mutters under his breath with a completely straight face. Half the time, I don’t even think he’s making jokes just to get a reaction. I can easily picture him saying something ridiculous simply because it amused him, and if someone groans or rolls their eyes, that’s almost as satisfying as getting a laugh.

He doesn’t use jokes to avoid serious conversations, either. He’s far too observant for that. If someone is genuinely hurting, I can’t see him forcing a joke just to make the moment less uncomfortable. Honestly, I think he’d rather sit with someone in silence than pretend everything is okay. He isn’t joking to ignore what’s happening; he just tries to make things feel a little less heavy when the time is right.

Leon doesn’t like humor that comes at someone else’s expense. He’ll joke with people, of course, but there’s a big difference between teasing someone and humiliating them. If he realizes a joke has genuinely hurt someone, I think he’d be the first person to change the subject or turn the joke back on himself instead. He’s much more willing to make himself the punchline than to make someone else feel uncomfortable. His humor is playful, not cruel.

I really don’t think Leon would make a big deal out of it. He’d notice it right away, of course, but I don’t think he’d feel any need to comment on it. After everything he’s seen, two different-colored eyes barely register as something unusual. It’s just another detail about someone, no different than noticing they have freckles or a scar. He’d simply take it in and carry on with the conversation like normal.

I also don’t think he’d stare. A lot of people with heterochromia probably get used to others looking back and forth between their eyes or asking the same handful of questions over and over again. Leon just isn’t that kind of person. His attention would stay on the conversation, not on their eyes. He’s respectful of other people’s boundaries and good at making someone feel like they’re being listened to instead of studied. Even if he liked it, he’d probably keep that to himself unless the conversation naturally went there.

If they ever brought it up themselves, I think he’d ask a question or two out of genuine curiosity. He’d be happy to listen if they wanted to talk about it, but the moment they brushed it off or changed the subject, he’d take the hint and never push it any further.

If he got to know the person well, though, I think it would become one of those things he grows attached to. Leon has a habit of remembering the little details about the people he cares about. It’s not because he thinks those details matter more than anything else; it’s just part of how he remembers them.

If the person was insecure about it, I don’t think he’d immediately jump in with a speech about how beautiful or unique it is. That just doesn’t feel like Leon. He’s much more likely to reassure them in small, understated ways. If they admitted they were self-conscious about it, he’d probably look a little confused and say something simple like, “Really? I don’t know. I think it suits you.” He wouldn’t be trying to say the perfect thing. That’s just honestly how he sees it. Leon has never struck me as someone who cares much about whether people fit conventional beauty standards. He’s always cared far more about who someone is than what they look like.

I actually don’t think Leon is afraid of needles themselves. After everything he’s been through, getting a shot probably wouldn’t bother him much anymore. What bothers him is why he’s getting it. He’s had his body messed with against his will before, so even a normal needle might make him tense up. Not because he’s afraid it’ll hurt, but because part of his mind immediately wonders what’s being put into his body. If it’s something routine, like a blood test or a vaccine, he’d be fine. But an unlabeled syringe or someone telling him to “just trust me” would make him instantly uneasy.

I think that’s true of a lot of things with Leon, honestly. It’s rarely the thing itself that scares him; it’s what it represents. I don’t think he’s afraid of guns, knives, or even monsters. Those are all things he knows how to deal with. His real fears are a lot more subtle and personal, tied more to what he carries inside himself than anything in front of him.

I think his biggest fear is losing control of his own body. After everything involving Las Plagas and the viruses he’s been exposed to, the idea of something taking over his mind probably messes with him more than he’d ever admit. He can handle pain and injuries, and he’s even made peace with the idea of dying. What he couldn’t handle is being trapped inside his own head while his body hurts innocent people. I honestly think that’s part of why he works out so hard. He needs the constant reminder that he’s the one in charge.

Because of that, I think he’d pay more attention to his health than most people. A headache that lasts too long, a fever that won’t go away, or feeling unusually tired would probably make him pause. He’s seen too many outbreaks start with symptoms everyone brushed off as nothing. Even if he knows he’s probably overthinking it, I don’t think he’d ever completely ignore that little voice in the back of his mind wondering if this is the time his body finally betrays him.

For the same reason, I think he’d hate being put under anesthesia. Most people see it as just another part of surgery, but I can’t imagine Leon ever being comfortable with willingly blacking out. Considering everything he’s lived through, being unconscious probably feels too close to being helpless. He’d still do it if he had to, but he’d be much more nervous than he’d ever let anyone notice.

Beyond that, I think another fear that stays with him is outliving the people he cares about. He’s lost too many people already, and the ones still in his life face the same dangers he does. I don’t think he’s just afraid of being alone. I think he’s afraid of being the last person left who remembers everything they survived together. Losing the few people who truly understand his life would leave him with a kind of loneliness no one else could really fill.

I don’t think Leon would be an overprotective dad in the sense that he’d try to control every part of his child’s life. He knows what it’s like to have people make choices for you, and that’s something he’d never want his own child to experience. He’d want them to grow up feeling safe enough to make mistakes, figure things out on their own, and become their own person. That said, he’d definitely worry more than he lets on. He’d always be the dad who made sure they got home safely, or who waited up if they were out late, even if he insisted he just hadn’t gone to bed yet.

Losing his own father at such a young age would absolutely shape the way he’d parent. Leon never really got the chance to know what having a dad was supposed to feel like, so he’d spend a lot of time wondering if he was doing things right. There’d be moments where he’d catch himself thinking, is this what my dad would’ve done? even though he had no real answer. Instead of copying someone else, he’d end up becoming the kind of father he wishes he’d had: someone who’s always there, keeps his promises, and makes sure his child never has to question whether they’re loved.

Would you ever write headcanons about Leon's self image? Like how he sees himself, whether he likes himself etc

I don’t think Leon dislikes himself, but I also don’t think he’s someone who spends much time trying to figure himself out. For the last couple of decades, he’s been so focused on surviving and dealing with whatever came next that he’s pushed his own feelings to the side. It’s not like he’s blind to emotions; he’s actually great at reading people. He can tell right away when someone else is struggling or beating themselves up. He just never gives himself that same understanding. He doesn’t look in the mirror and hate the guy staring back, but he isn’t particularly kind to him, either. If someone else messed up in an impossible situation, Leon would be the first to tell them they did everything they could. If he made that same mistake, he’d walk away convinced he had failed.

He doesn’t see himself as some broken weapon or a mindless drone, though. He hates what happened to him and the way it never really lets him go. Just when it feels like life might finally settle down, something always drags him right back into the same nightmare. He resents the life he was forced into, the choices that were taken away from him, and the feeling that he’ll never truly be free of it. But that’s completely different from hating who he is. If anything, he tries so hard to keep those two things separate. He knows everything he’s been through has changed him, but he refuses to believe the trauma is all there is to him.

I don’t think Leon would handle the “where do babies come from” question very well. He wouldn’t run away or refuse to answer, but he’d definitely freeze up for a second. He’d just sit there staring at the kid with a totally blank expression, trying to figure out how a simple question suddenly turned into a trap. He wouldn’t want to lie to them. He’s a terrible liar anyway, and he’d think telling a kid some story about a stork is kind of stupid. But he also has absolutely no idea how to simplify something like that for a child. He doesn’t have a gentle or poetic way of explaining things, so he’d default to stating the facts as simply and honestly as he knows how.

He’d probably start out okay, saying something about how it takes a man and a woman to make a baby and that the mother carries it in her womb for about nine months. But because he’s so bad at this, he’d inevitably phrase something in a way that sounds much worse than he intended. He might compare it to a seed growing inside someone and explain that the baby uses the mother’s food and energy to grow, accidentally making it sound more like an alien taking over a host than a miracle of life. He’d realize how bad that sounded halfway through the sentence and awkwardly try to correct himself, but the damage would already be done.

He could probably get through explaining pregnancy itself, but the second the kid asked how the baby actually gets in there, he’d completely shut down. He wouldn’t know how to explain it in an age-appropriate way without making both himself and the kid uncomfortable. He’d clear his throat, break eye contact, and give some vague, half-hearted answer about how “it’s complicated” or that they “have to be older to understand the boring adult stuff.”

He wouldn’t try to drag the conversation out any longer than he had to. As soon as he gave his terrible, slightly confusing explanation, he’d try to change the subject immediately. He’d ask if they were hungry or if they wanted to watch TV, desperately hoping they’d just forget the whole thing. He’d survive the ordeal, but he’d be quietly relieved when the kid finally dropped it and went back to playing, leaving him to sit there and mentally recover from the most stressful five minutes of his week.

If it were his own kid asking, the dynamic would shift a bit, though he wouldn’t necessarily be any better at it. With someone else’s kid, he’d just want to survive the conversation and pass the buck. But with his own child, there’d be a heavy, sudden realization that he’s supposed to be the one teaching them about the world, and he has absolutely no idea how to do that. He’d still refuse to lie about storks or sugarcoat it, but he’d try really hard to be gentle. He’d probably sit down next to them, keep his voice as quiet and soft as he could manage, and actually put effort into choosing his words carefully.

I don’t think Leon would panic if he found out he only had a day left. After the life he’s lived, he’s probably known for a long time that he wasn’t going to make it to old age. If anything, there might be a weird sense of relief, like he finally doesn’t have to carry it anymore.

He wouldn’t tell anyone at work. He’d quietly clean out his desk, hand in his badge without much explanation, and drive home. He probably wouldn’t call his friends, either. Not because he wouldn’t want to see them, but because he knows they’d drop everything and spend the whole day trying to find a way to save him, even if there wasn’t one. He wouldn’t want their last memory of him to be watching him die.

He’d spend his last morning doing exactly what he always does. He wouldn’t try to do anything crazy or cross things off a bucket list. He’d make his usual pot of black coffee, sit on the couch, and watch the morning news. He likes the boring, quiet parts of life, so he’d want to hold onto that routine for just a little longer.

If he had a partner, I think you’d be the only person he’d tell. He wouldn’t sit you down for a serious talk. He’d probably tell you while the two of you were making breakfast or getting ready for the day. He’d be really straightforward about it because he wouldn’t know how else to say it. He wouldn’t expect you to take it well. If you cried, he’d understand. He wouldn’t try to stop you or tell you everything would be okay. He’d just ask you to stay with him for the rest of the day.

He wouldn’t want to make the day into something special, either. He’d eat whatever the two of you usually have for dinner, sit with you on the couch afterward, and enjoy how ordinary it all feels. He might finally say “I love you” out loud without it sounding awkward in his mouth, just to make sure you knew.

But if he didn’t have anyone, he wouldn’t tell a soul. He’d just spend the day alone in his apartment. He might take his time doing the little things he usually rushes through. He’d probably cook himself a simple meal instead of just throwing something together to get it over with. He might even pour himself a glass of whatever whiskey he has in the cabinet.

I don’t think Leon is inexperienced, but he hasn’t been with a lot of people either. His twenties and thirties were basically swallowed by his job, so dating was probably pretty low on his priority list. He’s had relationships, but they were few and far between. Because of that, he doesn’t have a bunch of wild habits or try to put on a show. He just knows what he likes and what works for him. He’s not the type to brag about it, either. If anything, he’s a little rusty when you first sleep together, but he catches on fast because he pays really close attention to you.

In bed, Leon is the exact opposite of what people might expect from a guy his size. He’s not rough or aggressive; he’s actually incredibly slow and careful. Rather than trying to prove anything, he just genuinely wants to get it right. He never rushes. He takes his time, mostly because he actually likes the build-up. Since he’s always so tense during the day, having a reason to just slow down and lose himself in something purely physical is a genuine relief.

He’s not much of a talker during it, either. He knows he’d sound awkward if he tried to talk dirty, so he just doesn’t. He communicates in other ways, like a quiet sigh or just the way his breathing changes. He keeps his eyes open a lot, too. He likes watching your face to see what you actually like rather than just guessing. He definitely prefers doing it at night or in low light, but that’s mostly just because he hates bright overhead lights in general.

That being said, he’s not always that controlled. Leon spends his whole life bottling things up, so sometimes that pressure just has to go somewhere. If he comes home wired from a bad mission, or if something almost went wrong, he probably doesn’t have the patience to take his time. He’s a bit more intense then, and things just move a lot faster. He might actually make some noise, too, like a quiet swear or a groan, because he’s too far gone to hold it back like he normally does. But as soon as it’s over, that careful guy comes right back.

I really don’t think a period accident would bother Leon at all. After dealing with real blood and literal monsters for a living, his brain just doesn’t see this as something gross or shocking. If you accidentally bleed on the bed, his first thought wouldn’t be about the sheets. It would be about you. In his mind, it’s just a normal body thing that made a mess. The sheets can be washed, and even if it leaves a stain, it’s still just a mattress.

Honestly, it wouldn’t even matter if you live together or if you’re just staying over at his place, his reaction would be exactly the same. What would actually catch his attention is how embarrassed you are. If you start apologizing or look like you want to disappear, he’d pick up on that right away. He’d honestly feel bad that you were beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control. He’s been through too much in his life to get worked up over a little blood on a mattress. It’s just an accident, and accidents happen. He wouldn’t make it weird, get awkward, or tease you about it. If you kept saying sorry, he’d probably just tell you to stop, because there’s nothing to apologize for. He wouldn’t go overboard trying to comfort you either, because he knows that can sometimes make you feel worse. He’d just keep his voice calm and move on so the situation feels normal.

He’s a very practical person. So while you’re standing there feeling guilty, Leon is already pulling the sheets off the mattress. He wouldn’t just stand there and wait for you to clean it up yourself. He’d probably tell you to go get cleaned up and put on comfortable clothes while he deals with the bed. By the time you come back, he’d already have fresh sheets on it.

I really don’t think Leon is a dog person. Dogs are great, but they require a level of energy and attention that he just doesn’t have left to give. They need to be walked, they jump all over you the second you walk through the door, and they bark at every little noise outside. For a guy who is already on edge half the time, coming home to a loud, needy animal just sounds exhausting. A cat makes a lot more sense for the kind of life he leads.

He’d definitely be a cat person, specifically the older, chill ones that are done with their crazy phase. He respects their independence and likes that they just do their own thing. He doesn’t have to feel guilty if he’s gone for three days on a mission and comes back too drained to play or go for a walk. A cat is perfectly happy just existing in the same room as him. He’d probably end up with one that just decided it liked him, curling up on his chest while he tries to nap on the couch or sitting on the counter watching him make coffee in the morning.

I think having a cat would be one of the few times Leon lets himself take care of something small and completely harmless. His whole life is spent dealing with dangerous things and people who want to hurt him. A sleeping cat is the total opposite of that. It’s just a small, warm, living thing that expects absolutely nothing from him other than a clean bowl of food. He’d never be the type to baby-talk it or dress it up, but he’d make sure its bowl was always full before he even thought about feeding himself.

I don’t think Leon sees food as a source of comfort anymore. At some point early in his career, eating just became another part of the job. It’s just something he does to keep his body running. Because of that, his cooking is super basic. He doesn’t follow recipes or use measuring cups. He just throws some meat and whatever vegetables are in the fridge into a pan until it’s hot and edible. His kitchen is usually spotless because he barely uses it, and when he does, he cleans up immediately. He owns exactly one good, expensive chef’s knife, but he keeps it hidden in a drawer rather than on a counter. To him, it’s not a decoration; it’s a tool, and he keeps it scary sharp. His actual eating habits can be a little hard to get used to if you’re his partner. He doesn’t really have a set eating schedule. He rarely eats three actual meals a day, usually skipping breakfast entirely for black coffee and eating one massive meal later in the afternoon to make up for it. When he does finally sit down to eat, he does it insanely fast. He’s not trying to be rude; he just spent years in situations where a meal could get interrupted at any second, so he learned to shovel it in while he had the chance. He also cleans his plate completely, absolutely hating the idea of wasting food. He’s been in too many situations where food was scarce, so leaving half a meal behind just feels wrong to him. He doesn’t really do sweets, either, mostly ignoring snacks unless he’s crashing and actually needs a quick boost.

When normal people have a bad day, they might crave something greasy or sweet. When Leon has a bad day, he just wants something in his stomach. Because his body is basically an afterthought when he’s on a mission, coming home to a real meal means a lot to him, even if he can’t really put it into words. Just sitting at a table eating something someone actually made for him helps remind him that normal life still exists outside of his job.

This is why he’s the easiest person in the world to cook for, but the hardest to get a straight answer out of. If you ask what he wants for dinner, his default answer is always “whatever is easiest” or “I’ll eat anything.” He’s the furthest thing from a picky eater, and he genuinely means it. If you burn the pasta or overcook the chicken, he’ll sit there and eat the entire plate without a single complaint. He knows how exhausting it can be to come home and still have to take care of things, so he appreciates the effort far more than the actual taste of the food. He won’t necessarily praise the meal with a lot of words, but if you notice him going back for a second serving, or if he quietly takes your plate to the sink when you’re done, that’s his way of saying it was good.

In a relationship, Leon shows he cares through actions and physical closeness, mostly because words don’t come easily to him. He’s not emotionally broken; he just spent so many years being trained not to show weakness. Saying “I love you” out of nowhere will probably always feel a little awkward for him. Instead, you know he cares in the small things. If you’re cold, his jacket is off his shoulders and in your hands before you even have to ask. He’ll notice when you’re tired and take over the chores without making a big deal out of it. He’s quietly protective, but never overbearing.

Physical touch is complicated for him, though. He really craves it, probably more than he’d ever admit, but his body is so used to being on high alert. If you come up behind him and touch his back while he’s focused on something, you’ll feel every muscle in his body lock up instantly. It’s not about how he feels about you; it’s just a built-in reflex that he secretly hates himself for. Because of this, he prefers to be the one to initiate contact. He likes it when you’re sitting on the couch and he can just reach out and pull you against his side, or rest a hand on your knee while he drives. He just needs to know it’s coming so his brain can stay calm. Over time, as he learns to trust his environment with you, that jumpiness fades, but it never totally goes away.

When it comes to conflict, Leon is a shutdown kind of guy. He doesn’t yell, and he absolutely will not say things he doesn’t mean just to win a fight. If an argument gets too heated, his instinct is to go quiet and pull away. It’s a coping mechanism. In his line of work, raising your voice or losing control gets you killed. In a relationship, it can make him seem frustratingly distant in the moment. What his partner needs to understand is that he’s not giving the silent treatment to punish you. He’s just trying to process the fact that his safe space feels unstable, and needs a little time to calm down before he can talk about it clearly. If you give him that space, he’ll always come back, calm and ready to fix the problem.