#hence why their expressions are Like That

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble II

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,142

A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this🤭 holy shit I’ve never written something so damn corny before… I LOVE IT TEEHEE. Ugh I love me some good fluff.

[I][III]

“I gave a second chance to Cupid, but now I'm left here feelin' stupid. Oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn't real. Cupid is so dumb,” - Cupid (Twin Ver.), Fifty Fifty

When Saturday arrived, you dressed yourself in a formal dress. You could only assume he’d want me to dress fancy since he always seemed to wear a suit. You didn’t think you’ve ever see him wear something casual.

The clock marked seven and you patiently waited in your room. You wore a black skin tight dress that reached your knees. It wasn’t from the most luxurious and high brand but it was still quite beautiful. The sleeves were actually a cape draped over your shoulders in a thin sheet of mesh fabric. Even your heels matched your dress. You’ve never been one to dress immodest on the first date. Your hair was done tied down and your makeup was light but not too boring. Everything looked just right.

Leon leaned against his car, his eyes focused on the door of your apartment building. He had been there for a while now, waiting patiently. He was dressed in one of his nicer suits, this one a deep navy blue. Although he didn’t bother to wear his signature red scarf or gloves.

He glanced at his watch, it was a minute before seven. He pushed himself away from his car, his eyes never straying from your door. He’d known Mafia Bosses who had to be punctual at all times, and now, it was a habit.

The neighborhood your apartment was in was on the side of the working class. You didn’t live in the richest part of town so his car stood out like a sore thumb.

Leon suppressed a sigh as he checked his watch again. Seven o’clock, on the dot. He started walking towards the door, his steps slow but steady. When he finally stood in front of your door, he took a moment to straighten his suit before raising his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping against the door three times.

He could already imagine your flustered reaction to seeing him again. He almost smiled at the thought, but his expression remained neutral, his face a stony mask. He waited.

Upon hearing the sounds of the knocking, you quickly made your way to the front door and opened to find Leon dressed so formally. He looked really good, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat.

“Leon,” you said with a soft smile, “You made it.”

Leon’s eyes roamed over you as you opened the door, taking in your appearance. The light makeup, the black dress, the tied-up hair, everything about you looked absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but think that you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.

He returned your smile with a small one of his own, his eyes softening slightly at the sight of you.

"Of course I did," he said, his gaze never leaving yours, "I said I would, didn’t I?"

He was so gentle, like an innocent lotus that blooms above water. Hence why you couldn’t help the smile you had, “You did,” you whispered as you maintained his eye contact.

You closed the door behind you and walked down the steps to stand in front of him. Even with heels he stood above your height.

“You look very handsome,” you complimented as you gestured for his own outfit. His suit seemed rich and expensive, made with only the best craftsman. Leon’s eyes darkened slightly at your compliment, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. He was used to compliments, but coming from you… it was different. It sent a flutter through his chest, something he wasn’t used to feeling.

"You're one to talk," he replied, his gaze roaming over your figure again, "You look absolutely stunning."

He extended his arm out towards you, his gesture a silent invitation as he waited for you to take it.

His words were sincere, no lie detected. As if he was truly honest, why would he lie to a woman? He didn’t seem the type to try and hook up on the first date. He had manners and etiquette. You gently wrapped your hand around his bicep as he offered his arm to you. You’ve only ever seen this in movies, you didn’t think people still did it in real life.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, staring up at him as the lights from the stars above you twinkled in your eyes. Leon felt the warmth of your touch on his arm, the way your fingers wrapped around the material of his suit. It was a simple touch, but it already felt too intimate. He knew this was dangerous terrain, getting close to you like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes met his, a warm sparkle in them as the reflection of the stars danced across them. You looked almost enchanted by him, like a doe staring up at a wolf.

But Leon was no wolf. He was so much more dangerous than that.

Leon led you to his car, his arm still intertwined with yours. His steps were steady, his gaze focused on guiding you to the vehicle. The night was cool and yet, he wasn’t even paying attention to the cold.

His mind was occupied with other things, specifically the thought of how to keep your attention on him. Most of the women he’d dated before didn’t stay for long. He figured they were only interested in his money.

But you were different. It somehow felt like you were truly interested in getting to know him, and not his bank account.

When you neared his car, he actually held the door open for you until you sat down and closed it. Such manners! As he began to drive, you couldn’t help but marvel at his car. Even the interior looked expensive, “Nice car,” you commented softly.

Leon gave you a small shrug, slightly amused by your compliment. He was used to women swooning over his expensive assets, his cars, his houses.

But you didn’t do that. And it was refreshing to say the least.

"It's not bad," he agreed, his eyes on the road. He wasn’t looking at you, but he could still sense your gaze on him. He glanced over at you briefly, a small smirk on his lips.

"You’re not very impressed by the car, are you?" he asked bluntly.

Your cheeks flushed a bit and you shook my head, “I actually don’t know anything about cars,” you replied abashedly, “But I like it. It looks nice. Very comfy.”

Maybe he was used to hearing women compliment his assets and his bank account but you weren't used to such a lavish life so you didn’t know much. But it was all still impressive, not because of the price but because the car genuinely looked like it was taken good care of.

Leon chuckled softly at your answer, the sound low and warm. He could tell he managed to make you flustered again, a slight pink tinge on your cheeks that he found endearing.

"You’re the first woman I’ve met who didn’t swoon over the car instead of the man driving it," he said bluntly, his eyes on the road still.

He found it interesting, your lack of reaction to his worldly possessions. Most women, in his experience, fell over themselves just to ride in this car.

Okay maybe it was a bit weird reducing his car to just ‘comfy’ but it was fresh and real. It was an unexpected response but it seemed like he liked it.

You stared out the window, shaking your head once again, “Why would I put a car over a person?” You muttered before you glanced at him driving.

“A car won’t love me back. It won’t wipe my tears off my face,” you continued, “All it does it take from point A to point B. Why would I choose a car over someone?”

Leon's eyes left the road briefly to look at you, his expression unreadable. Your answer seemed simple and honest, genuine even. Most of the women he’d met cared about how much he could spoil them. They wanted fancy jewelry, expensive clothes. They never cared about the little things, the soft spoken words and the caring touches.

"That makes sense," he replied softly, his eyes focusing back on the road.

“In any case,” you muttered, unaware of how your words affected him for the better. You, in fact, did care about the little things. The lingering touches, the stolen glances—you lived for all of that.

“I think if you love someone,” you continued, staring at the road in front of you, “You understand them. You don’t lust after them, you don’t judge them, and you don’t compare them. To love someone, is to love so innocently but also very intimate in the sense that it isn’t sexual.”

“No car can replicate that type of love,” you whispered and glanced at him. Maybe you were being a bit indirectly forward, but you wanted him to know that you didn’t care if he was the richest man on earth or the poorest man, it was his morals and values that mattered.

Leon’s fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel as he listened to your words. Your explanation of love was sweet, pure. It was almost like hearing a child’s view on the world, innocent and untainted.

It was so far from his own views on love. Love was a weakness, a risk that only ended in more pain and hurt. He had seen it many times, how people would do horrible things, all in the name of love.

But hearing your idealistic explanation of love… it sounded almost alien to him.

Your words felt almost like a revelation to him, a realization that love was supposed to be innocent, and intimate, and so much more than just material things.

He took a deep, steady breath, his mind quietly processing your words, the way they seemed to touch a part of him he thought was long gone.

"You have a way with words," he said, his voice laced with a hint of admiration.

A shy smirk reached your lips and you looked down at your hands on your lap, “Not really,” you muttered, “I just really like to read romance.”

“I’ve read Anna Karerina, Lorna Doone, and Forever Amber,” you listed softly. You loved romance novels, reading about predestined love and star crossed lovers often resulting in a battle of emotions was all so interesting to you.

Leon's gaze briefly flickered towards you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. It was endearing, your passion for romance. It was almost cute.

"Ah, a romantic at heart," he commented, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "I've heard of those books. Bit tragic, aren’t they?"

He remembered the brief details he’d heard about those stories, tales of love, passion and despair. It all seemed a bit cliché.

“Yes,” you agreed, “It is tragic but what is love if there aren’t consequences? The true enemy of love is not hatred, it’s indifference and doubt.”

“I like to think that love is a double edged sword, a line so thin that divides happiness and depression. It’s our choices that make that sword tilt either side,” you commented quietly.

Leon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further at your words. They were deep and profound, making him think of things he’d never pondered before.

“And what happens when that sword tilts the wrong way?” he asked, his voice a little cold.

He'd seen the darker side of love, the way it could make people do things they'd never thought they were capable of. He'd never been a stranger to that kind of love. The kind of love that consumed and destroyed.

“Then you let it tilt until it’s back straight. It’s a rotation, a cycle. Eventually… love will be the right way,” you said.

“Love can destroy and create, not so different from a god. You can create to destroy or you can destroy to create. You can hate to love or love to hate. But in the end, it’ll always be there,” But your view on love wasn’t all happy, it wasn’t all sad either. You’d like to think you had a balance of understanding the good and bad about the subject of love.

Leon chuckled darkly, a bitter, almost sarcastic sound. The cycle of love you described was something he had never believed in.

"Love can’t just fix itself," he replied, "Once it's destroyed something, it can never bring it back. Nothing can."

You smiled and looked at him, “Sure it can,” you replied, “Love *can* be fixed as it can fix others.”

“It’s everywhere. It’s in the trees, in the sea, in our blood—love exists and it hasn’t died. It can’t die. If there is no love, what will there be?” You said softly, “There will be people that hurt you and no matter how much love you give them, it’ll never be enough.”

“But that doesn’t make it the end of the world. It’s a temporary wound in your heart that feels too deep to heal but like all injuries… it slowly heals. Love is time. And you have time to love,” you muttered softly, still staring at him, “And with the right person, you’ll learn,” you said as you hesitantly rested your hand on his shoulder. Leon didn't look at you, his gaze stayed forward, watching the road. But he could feel the lingering touch of your hand on his shoulder, a stark contrast to his cold demeanor.

"You speak so kindly of love," he said softly, his demeanor softening, "As if it hasn't hurt you before."

He was softening, it’s like he couldn’t stay mad forever. “It has,” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile, “But I’ve learned to accept that the pain wasn’t just a setback. It was a step for the future.”

Leon's expression softened ever so slightly as you squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. Your words, your optimism, it made him feel almost guilty for his cold demeanor.

He inhaled a breath, his body relaxing a little. You were a rare one, he had to admit that. In his line of work, he never encountered people like you, who spoke of love with such gentle wisdom.

As you neared the restaurant, it was busy with late night goers. People dressed in nothing but their bestest dresses and suits. It was quite fancy.

-

You had been sitting at your table that he had reserved, spending the time talking about your interests and telling stories. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed as much as you did tonight. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and patient. It was like he had cracked your introverted shell.

Leon's eyes lingered on you as you laughed, a small, warm smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You looked cute when you laughed, he had to admit. He was enjoying your company more than he thought he would. It wasn't just mindless banter, there was an ease in their conversation that he wasn't used to.

Leon raised his glass of wine, silently gesturing for yours to clink against.

"To a lovely evening," he said, his gaze never leaving yours.

You raised your glass of wine and clinked it against his with a smile, “To a lovely date,” you added before you sipped my glass. Once you put my glass down, you sighed softly and looked at him, “Thank you for this date. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before on a first date,” you said with a small laugh.

The corner of Leon's mouth twitched into a small smile again as you thanked him. He was glad to see that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

He took a drink from his glass as well, his eyes still studying you, studying that beautiful smile on your face.

"No need to thank me," he said softly, setting his glass down as well. "This night is just as much for me as it is for you."

You leaned forward and rested your arms on the table, “Are you always such a gentleman?” You inquired with interest, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act differently.”

"Perhaps," he replied, his gaze fixed on you, "I've always been taught to treat women with respect."

“It’s nice,” you whispered with a smile, your cheeks pink from drinking wine, “It’s way better than what modern dating is.”

"Modern dating?" he repeated, arching a brow, "Not into that whole 'Netflix and chill' nonsense?"

You chuckled and shook your head, “Oh, god, no!” You said as you rested your elbows on the table, your chin resting on the palm of your hand, “That’s like asking someone if you want to have sex. And I don’t do it like that.”

“I’d never ask anyone if they want to ‘Netflix and Chill’,” you muttered, “If anyone said that to me, I’d think they were a walking red flag.”

Leon chuckled at your reaction and shook his head as well. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't into the casual 'Netflix and chill' culture.

"I'm inclined to agree with you there," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's a little too shallow for my taste. I prefer spending time getting to know someone before... well, anything else."

He took a sip of his wine, his gaze still on you, studying your expression. There was something so genuine about you. It was quite rare in his usual line of work.

“I agree with you on that,” you muttered softly as you watched him sip his wine, “I prefer to love than to lust.”

Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly at your words. Your honesty and your perspective on love and lust were a breath of fresh air.

"Love rather than lust, huh?" he replied, his voice almost a whisper. He set his glass of wine back down on the table.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his gaze intense and focused on you, "Quite a profound way of looking at things," he added, a hint of intrigue in his tone.

“Well, yes,” you said, you could feel yourself enter a state of rambling. Of digressing, if you will, “Everyone is so obsessed with instant gratification that we often forget that the process to reach that state is far more rewarding than the feeling itself.”

“It is like walking up the steps of a mountain and your only goal is to get to the other but in order to get to the other side, you must take calculated steps otherwise you’ll slip and fall. And that’s what life is about. To slip and fall but to also pick yourself up in order to achieve a goal, whether it is eternal happiness or a momentous fleet of bliss, the process in which we get there feels more satisfying than the actual feeling of being at the top that can only last a few seconds,” you rambled.

“Love is cherishing all the moments in which led you to be where you are. If we don’t appreciate what we have, someone else will,” then, your cheeks turned a bit pink as you realized you rambled, “Sorry. I went on a tangent there,” you said with a small and awkward laugh.

Leon simply sat back in his chair, a small smile playing at his lips as you spoke. He found himself listening intently to every word you said, captivated by your passion and eloquence.

"Don't apologize," he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips, "I find it endearing when you get carried away like that. You're quite the deep thinker. I like that."

You chuckled softly and nodded once more. You were indeed a deep thinker, a philosopher at heart. Everything that dealt with life, you loved to hear about.

“I just have a lot of thoughts in my mind,” you muttered quietly, “What about you?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you like to do?” You asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side, almost curiously.

Leon chuckled at your question. It was only fair that he be asked about himself. He took a moment to think before responding.

"What do I like to do?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Well, I'm a man of many interests. I enjoy reading, going to nice restaurants, taking walks... and gambling."

He paused, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face, "And you know I'm a pretty damn good poker player."

You rolled your eyes despite your lips curling into a smile, you weren’t all truly annoyed. He was a really good player that beat various times whenever you played for the first time together. The one where you met.

“Yes,” you nodded your head slightly and sat back, crossing one of your legs over the other, “You are a good player. I’m still grateful you forgave what I owed you after the rounds.”

"You know I have a soft spot for pretty girls," he said with a small chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

He reached across the table and gently patted the top of your hand, his gesture both affectionate and reassuring.

"It wasn't a big deal," he continued, his expression growing serious again, "Besides, I knew you weren't just some rich kid wasting your parents' money. That you were being responsible."

Your face softened and you didn’t move your hand away, the action seemingly affectionate and it warmed your heart. He was so gentle, wasn’t he?

“Just thought of spending a few dollars hoping I’d get more, but I learned my lesson,” you whispered before your hand hesitated a bit. You turned your hand over, essentially putting your palm up against his palm.

Your heart was beating fast, just the simple touch from his hand was enough to set your heart ablaze, “I’d never spend my parents’ money… you’re right on that,” you added, your voice quieter as you stared down at your hands together. Leon's eyes flickered down to where your hands met on the table and lingered there for a moment. He inhaled a tiny breath, his mind momentarily distracted by the feel of your skin against his.

The touch was simple, but in his line of work, he'd nearly forgotten the sweetness of physical affection. He gently curled his fingers over yours, holding your hand in a firm but gentle grip.

The touch was gentle, intimate, and tender. A softness of the warmth shared between you as your fingers gently played across his hand, your thumb rubbing his skin in a setting to wake a trail of warmth.

You didn’t know what took over you to do that but for some reason it felt natural. As if you were meant to hold him like a dream. That’s what he was, a dream personified right before you.

Your eyes drifted from your hands back to his eyes, watching as the dim and orange light of the restaurant play across his features in a harmonious and seraphic light. As your gazes met again, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way the soft candlelight from the restaurant played across your features. It was as if they were crafted to perfectly fit the curves of your face, enhancing your natural beauty.

His thumb gently returned the gesture, rubbing against the base of your hand. A silent, gentle agreement.

Unspoken words and unanswered questions lingered but for now, you’d just enjoy the company of each other. As the date progressed, the night became darker and the restaurant slowly became lone.

After paying, you walked out of the said place and strolled through the sidewalk as you made your way to his car. In the middle of crossing a bridge, the moon’s light reflected on the water beneath you, a shine so bright that you had to stop by the railing and stare at the full moon. Leon's footsteps slowed to a stop as you paused to stare at the moon. He stood beside you, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixated on your face as you looked out at the reflection of the moon shimmering on the water below.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked quietly as you kept your eyes on the moon, a soft breeze blowing by you two.

He glanced up for a moment, taking in the sight of the full moon in the inky black night sky, "It is," he agreed quietly. But as he looked back at you, he found himself thinking that there was a sight even more beautiful right in front of him.

You didn’t even notice his lingering gaze, eyes spoke so many volumes. It’s what makes humans vulnerable, the eyes never lie.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but really it was just a couple of minutes. Your skin chilled with goosebumps as the night breeze brushed over you, once again reprimanding yourself for being cold.

It was a pattern, huh? You being cold and him bringing you warmth. A balance between you. The irony didn't escape him. In any other circumstance, he would consider himself the colder one, and yet, standing beside you right now, in this moment, he could only think of you as the warm one.

He shrugged, then, without missing a beat, he gently draped his coat around your shoulders, the warmth from his body transferring to the fabric.

A smile plastered on your face as you felt the fabric with an all too familiar scent of his cologne. One that you didn’t even realize you had missed so much.

“Thank you for tonight,” you muttered softly, bringing his coat closer to your body, “It’s one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”

He nodded his head in response, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "It was my pleasure," he replied, his tone genuine.

He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on you once more, "And in all honesty," he continued, "I had a good time as well. I hope there'll be more nights like this soon."

You nodded and your smile widened, just the thought of seeing him again on a night like this made your insides flutter with joy and excitement. A candid and innocent feeling.

“Yes, I hope so too,” you muttered and stared up at him. It was just the two of you, standing under the moonlight as the sound of water splashed underneath you from below the bridge. Leon couldn't help but smile softly. Your expression was full of innocent excitement, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

The sound of water below you two and the soft sounds of the night's insects and the rustle of leaves echoed in the air around you, but all he could focus on was you. You, standing there with his coat draped around your shoulders. You, who, in that moment, seemed more beautiful than ever.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he couldn't help but reach out and gently cup your cheek in his hand.

Your breath hitched, his touch was that of a soft caress. Of an artist admiring their piece of art that had been inspired by their muse. To which in this case, he was the artist and you were his muse.

The night ended perfectly. You had gone to his car to take you back home, although you didn’t really want to leave him just yet. The night felt young but you didn’t want to be selfish and greedy. The drive back to your apartment was quiet and peaceful. There wasn't an ounce of awkwardness, just the comfort of each other's presence. Even as Leon parked the car in front of your home, a part of him wished the night could have lasted just a little longer.

“This is it,” you whispered as you remained sitting in his car while he parked in front of your apartment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, what if you didn’t see him again?

He turned off the engine and turned to you, watching as you spoke the words neither of them wanted to say.

"I guess it is," he replied quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against the steering wheel.

You took off his coat and gently placed it in the cupholder separating our seats. Then, you glanced at him. Goodbyes weren’t easy when you didn’t know if you’d see each other again.

A thought occurred to you, you rummaged through your purse and pulled out a small piece of napkin, which had your lipstick stain on it, along with a pen. You wrote your number on the piece of napkin and then handed it to him, but not before you stole a kiss on his cheek. Leon's breath caught in his throat as he felt the surprise kiss against his cheek, the heat of your lips sending a shiver down his spine.

“Call me soon,” you whispered as you stepped out of the car, rather anxiously and a bit hastily. He took the napkin, his gaze flickering to the numbers written on it. He held it in his hand, almost like a lifeline, watching as you stepped out of the car.

"I will," he called out, a hint of something in his voice, as if he was reluctant to let you leave, "I'll call you soon," he repeated, a promise, an assurance to you, and himself.

As soon as you entered your home and closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding in after kissing his cheek. It was bold for you and it probably caught him off guard but you didn’t regret it one bit.

You felt your heart quicken, now that he had your number, you can definitely keep seeing each other more often. All was not lost tonight.

Leon sat in his car for a moment longer, staring down at the napkin holding your number with your faded lipstick kiss next to it. His mind was racing, his heart still thudding against his chest.

Your kiss was bold, unexpected, yet it sent a spark through him that he hadn't felt in so long. It was like a promise, a declaration that something had shifted.

He folded the napkin and put it in his pocket, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He started his car, heading back home with one thing in his mind. Soon, he'll call you. Soon.

-

For a couple weeks, you’ve gone out on more dates. Dinner dates, walks along the beach, even taking you to a carnival. He was always such a gentleman; holding the door open, carrying you in his arms bridal style if your feet ached from your heels, always stubbornly paying for your food.

And you had no say in anything, he was assertive but gentle. As if he only wanted to take care of you and not make you work or move a muscle. You didn’t mind, of course, but you always made sure to offer to pay for dates (even if it made him reprimand you).

For the first time in my life, you felt happy. Genuinely happy. He was everything, the only reason you woke up all happy was because of him. You were no longer your old self, he converted you into this happier version that you didn’t know you could be.

“Eyes locked on the target, Sir.”

“Good, go on right ahead, bring the captive alive.”

The worst thing imaginable had happened. A man broke into your house, the window crashed and you left your room to investigate.

When you made it to your living room, a figure from behind you suddenly pressed a piece of cloth right under your nose, forcing you to inhale whatever was on that.

Your vision blurred and you slowly felt your body become weak and disoriented. The man kept his grip around your arm tightly, preventing you from moving. When you had finally passed out, he gently laid you down on the floor to communicate with another person.

“Target acquired, returning back to base,” the man said before he picked up your body and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

-

Leon was slowly falling hard for you. Seeing you happy, laughing, smiling was becoming an addiction for him. Every passing day that he spent with you, he found himself getting more and more attached.

He would do anything for you, pay for everything, pamper you, as long as you were happy and content. Seeing you smile because of him, brought him more joy than anything in the world.

He was falling in love, even if he didn’t quite realize it yet. His heart belonged to you now, whether he admitted it or not.

“Boss,” the voice of a man rang out in Leon’s office. As he had gone on dates with you, he didn’t neglect his duties as the mafia lord.

“Kyle was found dead in the casino. The arms case was missing as well,” he said to Leon. But it wasn’t just a random death. No, it was the act of an enemy mafia group just from the other side of the city. One that had many times tried to assassinate Leon and take over his empire.

Leon's expression darkened as he listened to his underling's report. The news of Kyle's death and the missing arms case was nothing but a nuisance, but the fact that his enemy mafia was behind this bothered him even more.

"Damn it," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides, “Those bastards are getting bold."

He pushed himself up from his chair, his gaze hardening as he listened to his underling, "Any leads?"

The man shook his head, “No, sir. The body was missing so we couldn’t find the cause of death. But we found a card with the initials of Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi.”

Santo ‘The Suit’ De Lucchi was a long time enemy of Leon. He was the man that had been targeting Leon ever since he became a Mafia boss. Santo was given the nickname ‘The Suit’ because he always played a tricky game.

He was obsessed with card decks, often always leaving behind a suit card on a bloody crime scene after murdering his own enemies. He’d leave the four types of cards behind depending on the message he tried to convey. This time, he had left an 8 of Spades card, meaning that he had a powerful group of men at the ready.

Leon's jaw tensed at the mention of the name. Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi. He knew that name all too well, and it was never for a good reason.

The mention of the 8 of Spades card made his eyes narrow. It was a warning, a declaration of war. And it was personal.

"How nice of The Suit to leave a calling card," Leon said, his voice laced with anger. "He really wants my attention, doesn't he?"

“What do you want us to do, boss?” The underling asked Leon. War between mafias wasn't uncommon. Almost everyday, there were news of men found dead in the streets from crime and mafia activities. But to prevent panic among the citizens, the police simply said they were civilian disputes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Leon paused for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and plans.

"I want you to gather more information about his men, his operations, his every move," Leon ordered, his voice sharp and commanding, "But more importantly, I want to know why he's making a move now. This isn't just some petty feud, it's a message."

Leon's eyes narrowed as he thought, "He's playing a game, and I need to be ten steps ahead if I want to win it."

“On it, boss,” the underling then left Leon’s office, leaving him alone to think to himself.

It was suspicious how The Suit made a move now after years of feuding with Leon. What changed? Who was their next target? The Suit wasn’t going to stop there, no, he won’t. It would only be a matter of time before he went after something Leon cared so deeply about.

As the door closed behind his underling, Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

He knew The Suit’s next move wouldn’t be a direct attack at him, no, that was too risky for someone like The Suit. He’d want to hit Leon where it hurt the most.

Leon’s thoughts immediately turned to you. His chest tightened at the idea of you being hurt, being targeted somehow. He had to make sure you were safe. Protected.

[just-a-ghost00]

No contact : what the heck is going on?

Pick one or several of the following emojis to find out about your reading content. This reading is going to be a bit unusual because the deck I am using is actually a game for children. A card represents a word or an idea. There is just the image. No words, no numbers. So based on the image combinations you get, I will try to channel the messages meant for you to hear.

1 📣 2 🎰 3💥 4💫

Group 1 📣

The person you were thinking of may have put a hold on the connection to take care of themselves. They are currently traveling or they intend to. They need to recharge their batteries. This person has been giving a lot of their time and efforts to make other people happy. They are exhausted. They wish to rest and indulge in some leisure time. They wish they could stop being a door mat for everyone to walk on. They feel like they can’t express their true self. They are tired of pretending like everything is fine. They feel like they can’t afford rest. When it comes to you and the connection, this person gets cold feet. They don’t know what to do or where to go. What is going on around them takes so much space in their life that they don’t have much energy left to spend with you. To them you are like that pot of jelly or that warm chocolate bowl : so sweet and tempting, so vital. You bring them comfort and a sense of home but at the same time they are scared of what that means. They are running out of gas. They may be Dre pressed or going through a burn out. Hence the lack of communication. They are trying to get back on track by stepping away for a time. They don’t want you to see that side of them.

Group 2 🎰

The person you were thinking of could be an artist and/or enjoys partying. This person could have recently been on a trip. The reason why there is no contact at the moment is because they are either sick and/or injured. If not, this person needed to heal something or someone. With the chick and the trumpet player, I get the message of someone being a bit vulnerable but wanting to show no weakness and appear stronger. The chick also reminds me of communicating. Because birds always chirp, this makes me think of throat chakra. With the hospital, I get the idea of someone have throat ache or issues related to their voice. They may have needed to take time off to undergo a surgery or to get a medical appointment. With the car and the horse, I get the idea of someone being restless. Wanting to get away from this situation quickly and get back to business. I also get the energy of someone being reckless. Maybe this person got injured practicing a physical activity. The combination of the matching game, the guitar and the necklace, I get the message of someone wanting to connect the dots and get closer to what is meaningful to them. Music is precious to this person and so are you. If they can’t communicate with you properly, this person will use music to convey their feelings.

Group 3 💥

Seeing the butter card I immediately thought of BTS lmao Once again there are music references in a reading. Also, either one or both of you may be French, wants to go to or has been in France. To be honest with you, there is a lot of chemistry and sexual tension going on. This person is refraining from contacting you in an attempt to resist temptation. That ain’t working well lmao Cause they are running in circles and really wanting to jump on the first occasion they get to interact with you. You might invite this person for your birthday or they are waiting for your birthday to surprise you with something. The combination of the cherries and the lace gives me really sensual vibes. They may want to get closer to you and the way they do it may be a bit rough 😂 With the firefighter and the lit birthday cake, I feel like they wish they weren’t so attracted to you. They wish they could extinguish whatever is going on because it eats them alive. The last card on the bottom right makes me think that you or this person could be working with children or wants children. This person is attracted to your soft side and your childlike personality which may be something you have in common. The fox makes me think that they are prying on you frequently. Even if they don’t talk to you, they closely watch you.

Group 4💫

The person you are thinking of lives at a distance from you. This person is afraid of falling in love and being intimate with you. A part of them wants to make a move but another would rather safely hide away. They wish that they were more courageous and that this connection would be more fruitful. They are aware of your needs for communication and more substance. If they could, they would run straight to you. But there are annoying flies surrounding the connection. Meaning, people are getting in the way, buzzing in their ear about what they should or shouldn’t do, about what they think of you. This person misses you. They think of you. They know your plate is missing on the table. They feel empty without you around. But in order to see clearly and cut the noise, they had to get away. This person needs to isolate in order to determine what their needs are and listen to their own voice instead of the constant buzzing and chirping of others. They need to determine in this cacophony of opinions, what is essential to them. Only then can they make a move.

[santoschristos]

Libra

September 23 - October 23

Thoth, God of Knowledge, and Ma’at - Goddess of Truth and Divine Justice

The zodiac series: Libra art by Johfra Bosschart

The tenth holy night of the Christmas season, from January 2 to 3, corresponds to rulerships, the higher intuition (Buddhi, life spirit) and the constellation Libra. In the painting below, Johfra (1919-1998) depicts characteristics of the Libra, and in the following text he provides an explanation.

The Libra is a positive sign, sky in essence, the sign the sun is at the beginning of fall as it crosses the equator to enter the period of winter. The ruling planet is Venus. The distinctive quality of this sign is balance and harmony. That is why the composition of this painting, like that of the Twins, has been kept symmetrical.

In the sign of Libra, the orientation of the soul changes. While in the preceding six signs the emphasis of the evolving human being has been on the self, in the following six signs the non-self is central to the acquisition of experience. It is Venus, the goddess of love, harmony and beauty who reigns here.

It is above all also the balance between head and heart, mind and feeling, which is the aim of this sign. That is why I also involved Thot-Hermes in the performance when compiling the symbolism. Just as I have pictured Mercury as ruler of the mind in his Egyptian form, so here also the goddess Venus appears in her Egyptian form as Hator, the goddess of joy, dance, celebration and love, with cow horns and ears. The two figures keep a balance.

On the one scale the feather of Maat – so again the soul-judgment, but then in connection with love-wisdom. The placement of Mercury to the left and Venus to the right of the balance refers to the kabbalah where Hod, the sefira who rules over the mental aspect in man, stands below on the left pillar of the tree of life (the pillar of austerity), while Nezach, the feeling , is at the bottom of the right pillar (of loving kindness or mercy). So here too the perfect balance between reason and emotion is expressed. Left and right absolutely need each other. Reason without feeling is sterile and deadly. The emotion without the corrective mind is just sentimentality and creates chaos. Both are very dangerous abilities without their polar opposites.

Nezach is the seventh sefira. Hence Hator carries a seven-pointed star between her horns. Below it is the astrological sign of Venus. In her hand she holds a sistrum, the ritual ringing instrument of the Hator priestesses. The four serpentine rods it contains represent the four elements that harmoniously resonate in the cosmos. Winding around the figure of the ibis-headed Thoth are the well-known serpents of the Mercury staff — the negative and positive forces united in harmony. In his hand he holds the ankh cross – the symbol of eternal life among the ancient Egyptians. At the center of his belt is the astrological sign of the planet Mercury.

The harmonic duality of the sign Libra is further depicted in the lower part of the painting by the two Assyrian sphinxes. These represent the chariot (arcanum 7) on the tarot card, which is associated with the sign of Libra. Here the two sphinxes pulling the chariot represent opposing cosmic forces, which work harmoniously under the guidance of the charioteer.

In the painting, the two animals are also symbols of the four elements in a positive (male sphinx) and negative (female sphinx) respect: the head is the element of water, the lion's front legs are the element of fire, the wings are the element of air and the bull's abdomens are the element earth – completely analogous to the four beasts of Ezekiel and the four symbols of the evangelists from the previous sign of Virgo.

The black and white checkered tile floor also refers to the harmonious cooperation of the polar forces at the foundation of the cosmos (this is the floor of the temple of the Freemasons). The lily in the foreground represents the serenity that results from the perfect balance between head and heart.

In the middle of the tiled floor is another Masonic symbol, namely the altar in the shape of a cube. The cube represents the foundation, because it consists of squares. This "cubic stone" is the "cornerstone", the Christ. It is the philosopher's stone of alchemy. This sacred altar in the temple, where the light of the spirit is always burning and never extinguished, was the Hindu symbol for our sign Libra. Officially, this cubic stone should be black and opaque. However, I painted it as a crystal to show the sphere, the golden seed it contains. This also contains the astrological sign for Libra, also in a heptagon, for Venus is related to Nezach (the seventh sefira on the tree of life).

When the cube is unfolded, the six faces form a Christian cross. In that case, the golden seed in the center of this cross. This image is directly reminiscent of the rosary, where the rose is also attached to the center of the cross – see the scales as a rosy cross above. I chose the sign of the Rosycross because this order also strives for the balance between head and heart in building the perfect man. The red rose is the flower of Venus, for it represents self-sacrificing love.

Furthermore, some other symbols related to the union of the opposites: the Chinese yin-yang symbol in connection with the polarization in primordial matter, the superimposed ∞ (the lemniscate, the symbol of infinity), the polar forces of the sun and moon, the spirit and the soul, interacting eternally. - Johfra Bosschart

[axealiin]

the finches

[david-talks-sw]

I think it's interesting that - in order to make his "free-thinking Jedi" characters hold any semblance of rationality in their arguments - Dave Filoni needs to resort to artificially dehumanizing the other Jedi and painting them all with the same "we dogmatically worship protocol" brush.

He does this with Huyang in the recent Ahsoka episode.

"Lolz he's so narrow-minded, preachy and by-the-book, unable to think outside the box, just like the Jedi in the Prequels."

My first reaction was being amused at the fact that Filoni had to resort to making the Jedi Order's ideals and rules be embodied by a literal machine for his anti-Jedi headcanon to start making sense.

But then I remembered: Huyang isn't just any droid.

In The Clone Wars, he had a sassy personality, he had a pep in his step, he had a sense of humor...

This character was human in his behavior, he was fun and whimsical.

But now he's been reduced to, I dunno, "Jedi C-3PO"? Basically?

"Ha! He's blunt and unsympathetic because he's a droid, but it's funny because the Jedi were the same, they were training themselves to be tactless, emotionless droids."

And Filoni does this with Mace Windu too, in Tales of the Jedi.

Mace, who brought a lightsaber to the throat of a planetary leader to defend the endangered Zillo Beast...

... and who went waaay past his mandate by mischievously sneaking around Bardottan authorities and breaking into the Queen's quarters because he felt something bad was afoot...

... was reduced to being an almost droid-like, rule-parotting, protocol purist who sticks to his instructions (and is implied to be willing to let a murder go unsolved so he can get a promotion).

I mentioned this at the end of my first post on Luke in The Last Jedi... while changes in personality do happen overtime and can be explained in-universe... if you don't show us that progression and evolution and just leave us without that context, that'll break the suspension of disbelief, for your audience.

Here, we have two characters with a different (almost caricatural) personality than the one they were originally shown to have.

Now... we could resort to headcanons, to make it all fit together.

We could justify Huyang's tone shift 'cause "Order 66 changed him". And we could make explanations about TotJ's Mace:

Being younger and thus more ambitious and a stickler for the rules, and only really becoming more flexible after getting his seat on the Council and gaining more maturity.

Being such a teacher's pet in the episode because we're seeing him through the eyes of a notorious unreliable narrator, Dooku.

There'd be nothing wrong with opting to go with either of those headcanons to cope with this. After all, Star Wars is meant to help you get creative.

But the problem I encounter is that:

Filoni has an anti-Jedi bias, so the above headcanons clearly wouldn't really track with his intended narrative.

We'd be jumping through hoops to extrapolate and fill in what is, essentially, inconsistent characterization, manufactured to make Ahsoka and Dooku shine under a better light.

And that sours whatever headcanon I come up with.

Edit: Also, yeah, as folks have been saying in the tags... wtf is "Jedi protocol"? The term isn't ever mentioned in the movies, I skimmed through dialog transcripts of TCW, never saw it there.

So it's almost as if - if Filoni wasn't draining characters like Mace and Huyang of all humanity and nuance - his point about "the Jedi were too detached and lost their way, but not free-thinkers like Qui-Gon, Dooku and Ahsoka" wouldn't really hold much water.

[bluespiritshonour]

Thinking about how popular Mai would've been if she were a boy. Like, can you imagine?people would've swooned over her like they swoon over, idk, Jet—it just occured to me that I like her because she's so unconventional for a female character.

Girls like Mai exist in real world—but women are rarely allowed to be complex and three dimensional and grey in fiction.

I would argue that Mai is a grey character; she did start out as Azula's lackey. And well, that's a fictional girl; I found her apathy stan-worthy.

I love that she constantly has a bitch face. She cracks dry/dark jokes. Wears black. Is mysterious and stoic. Does everything she can to disregard authority/even though she's not confrontational about it. (There's one difference. Bad boys are usually very confrontational).

All these characteristics exist in popular male characters. (Except for one thing that I've noticed: most of these “bad boy” characters are volatile and yet, are described as broody/stoic, like, dude. That ain't stoic, that's so emotional.)

So yeah. Coming back to Mai. Imagine if she were a boy.

A boy who's apathetic and has no passion for anything. A boy who's constantly bored/a thrill-seeker/has nothing he cares about. A boy who has a shutter for a face and rarely expresses himself, is amazing with knives and hand-to-hand combat and is gloomy.

There's nothing he cares about because caring gets people hurt and everyone wants something and is two-faced so it's safe to be a mask of indifference. Until—hold on—until he meets a passionate, hot-headed girl who's ✨ different ✨and if not anything, wears her heart on her sleeve/is an open book...

Yes, I'm talking about Zuko.

...and oh, oh, would you look at that? Now he has something to fight for!

I mean, for Mai, Zuko (after Ty Lee) is the only other person in front of whom she can be herself.

Reminds me of “he's only nice to her” trope. Sorry.

“You're so beautiful when you hate the world.”

“I don't hate you.”

Just imagine Mai as a boy. People would eat it up. They don't like her 'cause she's a girl.

[gaytedlasso]

Texts sent to the Diamond Dogs group chat

+ Rebecca & Keeley

[bonefall]

post/734733274896809984/do-you-ever-worry-your-own-writing-might-come-off that makes sense. i was asking because i'm afraid of accidentally writing misogyny myself and i kind of admire what you do

Hmm... I wish I had better advice to give you on this front, but honestly, the only thing I can tell you is to consider the perspective of your female characters.

Women are people. They have thoughts and feelings of their own, so like... just let them have their own arcs. A lot of the worst misogyny in WC comes from the way that the writers just don't care about their girls (or, in the case of tall shadow, actually get undermined and forced to rewrite entire chapters), so they're not curious about their lives, or WHY they feel the way they do or what they want, or any direction for their character arcs.

Turtle Tail as an example. She'll often just end up feeling whatever Gray Wing's plot demands. She's gotta leave when Storm dumps him to make him feel lonely. She shows up again to love him in the next book. Lets her best friend Bumble get dragged back to Tom the Wifebeater, but is sad enough about her death to be "unreasonably angry" with Clear Sky, and then calms down and accept Gray Wing is right all along.

And then she dies, so he can have his very own fridge wife.

In this way, Turtle Tail's just being used to tell Gray Wing's story. They're not interested in why she would turn on Bumble, or god forbid any lingering negative feelings for how she didn't help her, or even resentment towards Clear Sky for killing her or Gray Wing for jumping to his defense. She isn't really going through her own character arc.

She does have personality traits of her own, don't misunderstand my criticism, but as a character she revolves around Gray Wing.

So, zoom out every now and then, and just ask yourself; "Whose story is being told by what I wrote? Do my female characters have goals, wants, and agency, or are they just supporting men? How do their choices impact the narrative?"

But that's already kinda assuming that you already have characters like Turtle Tail who DO have personalities and potential of their own. Here's some super simple and practical advice that helped me;

Tally the genders in your cast. How many are boys, how many are girls, how many are others?

And take stock of how many of those characters are just in the supporting cast, and compare that to the amount you have in the main cast.

If you have a significant imbalance, ESPECIALLY in the main cast, fire the Woman Beam.

It's a really simple trick to just write a male character, and then change its gender while keeping it the same. I promise women are really not fundamentally different from men lmao. You can consider how your in-universe gender roles affect them later, if you'd like, but when you're just starting to wean yourself off a "boy bias" this trick works like a charm.

Also you're not allowed to change the body type of any girl you Woman Beam because I said so. PLEASE allow your girls to have muscles, or be fat, or be old, or have lots of scars. Do NOT do what a cowardly Triple A studio does, where the women all have the same cute or sexy face and curvy body while they're standing next to dwarves, robots, and a gorilla.

Or this shit,

If you do this I will GET you. If you're ever possessed by the dark urge, you will see my face appear in the clouds like Mufasa himself to guide you away from the path of evil.

Anyway, you get better at just making characters girls to begin with as time goes on and you practice it. It's really not as big of a deal as your brain might think it is.

Take a legitimate interest in female characters and try not to disproportionately hit them with parental/romance plots as opposed to the male cast, and you'll be fine. Don't think of them as "SPECIAL WOMEN CHARACTERS" just make a character and then let her be a girl, occasionally checking your tally and doing some critical thinking about their use in the story.

(Also remember I'm not a professional or anything, I'm just trying to give advice)

[sketchupnfries]

Just wanted to say that I adore your art style and I am absolutely loving your Jedi Survivor art! It’s crazy impressive that you are able to capture so many different sides of Cal including Gremlin Cal, Sweet Baby Boi Cal, and Dark-Side Cal.

I also love that that you’ve included how you styled the lightsaber. My spouse did something very similar and made both the lightsaber and blaster very shiny and multicolored. (I think he did blue, purple, and orange??) Makes me smile every time.

Anyway, sorry for rambling and thank you for sharing your work!

Thank you so much!! :D I love drawing Cal, be it more silly gromlin to more serious since I love both comedy and drama so much. Any chance I'm able to express specific emotions through my art is always my favorite.

That's awesome! :D I love that there's so much fun customization for Cal's lightsaber, and that people have so many fun combos of colors and styles. I had my blaster an obnoxious pink, light blue and purple, which uh...in hindsight I prob should've changed out at one point in the game haha Have some Cal sketches, and thank you for your support!

[b4kuch1n]

tdov was like a week ago already but I just wanna say when I came over to vacation slash help my sworn brother move flat he told me, "ever since you said you wanted to get top surgery I've been thinking about it. it's straight up number two on my bucket list"

[mus1ca1]

(november 2022) monster rusty. it's just fun to design monsters sometimes

[why-is-prethinker-unavailable]

Going back to what you said a few days (weeks?) ago, what would the prethinker-period™️ do? Most all other punctuation marks have their own purpose, and I’m curious to see how it works.

(Exclamation and question marks are obviously used for exclaiming and questioning, Periods are used as a full stop, While ellipsis are used as a way to taper off sentences. Commas are used for run-off sentences, the dash [this-thing] can be used to show fast speech, and quotation marks are used for either talking or sarcasm. Colons can help explain a sentence by combining two; while a semicolon does near the exact same, except the sentences are merely related to each other. “Cogxford” commas are used for clarification, et cetera, et cetera.)

Would you need to invent a new kind of sentence in order to find out what the Prethinker-period ™️ does? What would that look like?

Why, I am SO glad you asked.

I believe that the Prethinker Period is not just a form of punctuation, but the intellectual declaration of a sentence that has reached its monumental completion. A grammatical mic drop, if you will. It signifies the absolute execution of an idea, so profound that even regular periods bow in awe. It signals the end of something SO smart that not even an argument can be made against it. A grammatical beast that roars with sophistication and syntax!

As one's own words bask in the GLORY of the colossal dot, readers are left in a state of lexical rapture, contemplating the profound depths of their sentence's closure. A paradigm shift, a seismic event in the world of written expression.

It's not just a punctuation mark; it's a punctuation sonnet, a punctuation symphony that only the most masterful of maestro may command.

Consider the humble and BORING regular period. Dependable, yes, but lacking in the grandeur of the Prethinker Period. While the period meekly concludes a sentence, leaving the opportunity of argument, and rebuttal, the Prethinker Period not only concludes it but wraps it in a metaphorical velvet curtain, adding an air of sophistication and refinement.

Commas, those dawdling pawuse-makers, pale in comparison, and question marks and exclamation points? CHILD'S PLAY. The Prethinker Period doesn't interrogate or shout; it bows out gracefully, inviting readers to reflect on the profound wisdom just dropped.

The Prethinker Period isn't just another form of a period; it's a punctuation revolution. It stands tall, a beacon of punctuation excellence, ready to elevate prose to new heights of wit and sophistication •

[rolandkaros]

6, 23, 25

-@fritzes

6. favorite surface to watch?

probably clay! objectively it's my favorite, plus imo clay matches are generally more fun and a lot of my favorite players are good on clay

23. what's your favorite stroke?

this is one of the ones i can't really answer 💀

more recently learned about the term "inside-out forehand" and have subsequently become very fond of it

25. if you could change the result of one match, which one would you pick?

my god, i mean. the easiest one would be rg final 2023, but idk, i feel like it's difficult bc at the time i actually was very happy with the result...and if iga didn't win she wouldn't have been year end #1. i think i don't have enough knowledge of tennis from previous years to give a non-recency-bias answer but my next would probably be wimbledon final 2023.

[tabbyrocks]

My fun fact is that monoma name is (possibly) based off of the word monomaniac which basically means "exaggerated or obsessive enthusiasm for or preoccupation with one thing"

and that makes me go "This is literally just the description of a special interest monoma is literally autistic"

I REMEBER SEEING THAT!!!!

Im sure it just means his obsession with 1-a but actually suddenly i cant hear the people telling me that lalalallalalallala

hes SO autistic guys real not fake

also i like thinking abt his struggles to fit in with his class (them often telling other people around him when hes being overly silly that monoma is just a lot to deal with and to tone him out) is also so autistic.

i wish he had more screentime and character so he could be more autistic coded like izuku.

[emmcfrxst]

ngl i kinda wanna hear your analysis on arthur whenever u have time bc as much as we love this man- i think we sometimes forget that this man is canonically racist and sexist even tho he is considered progressive and better than most men during that time (looking at u micah😒).

examples of this being like during his antagonizing lines for the women around the camp or him not rlly caring when other racist gang member make racist comments towards lenny, javier or charles.

idk if this wording made any sense but i’m too lazy to go over it too much😭 i love your works btw!! just wanted to see your own analysis on our man🫶🫶

(don’t know if u need age for anons but i’m 19!)

i quite honestly don’t really have an analysis on this because i hadn’t really thought about it like that before (which. you are SO right. my bad) and i honestly think that this part of his character is kind of held within the boundaries of the game itself because when it comes to the antagonizing comments it’s a personal choice of the player’s whether or not they wish for arthur to treat women with respect and i think that despite the boundary of the player’s choice, there’s still moments where you can see that arthur is definitely not like the others when it comes to feminism/the rise of suffrage because he does, whether in low medium or high honor, accept to drive the carriage for the women in Saint-Denis and keeps them relatively safe during their speeches— he also mentions not minding the idea of women voting in a conversation with the leader of the suffragettes (although his answer ends up being kind of cynical, he’s still open to the idea)— and even in low honor, arthur makes sure to protect tilly and sadie multiple times throughout the game. the racism part is kind of tricky because we firstly as players don’t have an option of stopping the others from making comments or defending the poc members’ honor (i think? i could be wrong) so that part of arthur’s mindset isn’t shown and isn’t malleable throughout the game, he does mention not caring about skin color multiple times and also threatens the eugenicist and the kkk members upon meeting them, but as for his true, genuine personal beliefs (since it’s still the 1800s) i don’t know and i’m not exactly comfortable theorizing and discussing it in detail because i am Very Much White and i feel like it’s not my place to tell people how to feel about the content presented in the game; that’s really up to personal interpretation i think

[deva-arts]

I wonder how well they would sing. Sera especially, since she's half bird

She would sing something like this

....If she actually tried singing, that is. Sadly, her lack of artistic affinity and pursuit has closed that door.