The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Reader)
All Chapters List
Chapter 3: The Intention
"Veritas Odit Moras"
Truth Hates Delay.
"Septimia Aurelia, do you know how much I have searched for you, my lady?"
You regarded him with surprise and were rendered speechless.
The man carefully looked around and then grabbed your wrist to move you to a more secluded spot against the wall. "You've got a lot of attention, dressing like this, and it's pretty clear who you are. When did you get here? You've read the letter? Have you told anyone about it? Don’t."
Your heart was beating like crazy, your ears were buzzing, and the man's voice was almost blurred.
“Who… Who are you, sir?”
How come you knew nothing and he knew more than you?
“I'm Macrinus, my lady. You probably don’t remember me, you were too young, I'm the one who took you to Vicius.”
Vicius was your uncle's real name, the one your father had mentioned in the letter.
“I went to Egypt to find you, as your father ordered. However, Vicius was reluctant, I’m not blaming him but-" he glanced over your shoulder as if he was looking for something behind you. "How did you get back to Rome? Where’s he now?”
You tried to understand what he said, but it was very difficult, too much for one day.
"He died and I was brought back as a captive," you said in a low voice, your eyes bright with tears, recalling him once more, especially in this way, stung you anew.
He touched your shoulder. "It seems it was an unfortunate return for you. You must have opened the letter. You didn't lose it, did you?"
You dabbed at your eyes with the tips of your fingers, wiping away the tears. "It doesn't matter now, sir. I was brought here as a slave."
"What slave? You are the daughter of a deified emperor. Who bought you? Who is your Dominus?”
You remained expressionless and refused to give him the General's name. You knew it might put him in a difficult position and you had no intention of trusting him. “Sir, I am a slave and I have to live like one.”
"You can't be serious, please. This is your birthright, and you must demand what you deserve."
"How?"
"I will present it to the Senate, and it is likely to receive their support. However, I must first weaken Geta," he stated, his voice firm and decisive.
“But-."
"I have to go now before they get suspicious. I will help you. I’ve promised your father."
“Sir I-"
"I have a lot to tell you. Trust me and wait," he said, striding across the temple..
This man claimed to be a friend of your father's, but you were unsure whether to trust him. The situation was a significant source of distress for you, both mentally and physically. You felt a sense of nausea, pressing your hand and then your arm against the wall in an attempt to regain your composure. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to your arm, attempting to gain control of your thoughts. At that moment, you heard a voice you recognized calling out to you.
"My Lady!" Octavius hurried over to your side, looking concerned.
When you opened your eyes, you saw his sandals first because you were looking at the floor. You looked up.
“Are you well? Did someone do something to you?” He looked around angrily, ready to draw his sword. You put out your hand and stopped him.
“Calm down, sir. I'm fine."
Octavian pulled his hand away, taken aback by your touch. “I've been looking for you everywhere. The general sent me to find you, he was worried.”
You brushed a few strands of hair from your face with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry, I got a little nervous in the crowd and pulled away."
"Yes, it was unexpected for everyone. The emperors were in a hurry to get to the games, so they cut the ceremony short. I couldn't get you to the carriage in time. Forgive me."
"You still treat me like a lady, sir," you teased him.
He smiled. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it up. Shall we? The games are about to begin."
He gestured to the waiting carriage in the distance.
You were mesmerised by the splendour of this building, sitting in the part of the Colosseum intended for slaves and others. From your vantage point, you surveyed the area where the emperors and the General were seated, though they were not clearly visible from your distance. However, when they stood and advanced to deliver their opening speeches, you could see them more distinctly in their white shawls.
Caracalla and Geta raised their hands and greeted the crowd, while they chanted their names repeatedly loudly.
"People of Rome! Today, we gather to honor the glorious greatest General Marcus Acacius.”
Applause and voices rose as Geta extended his hand to the General, you were filled with excitement. He took his hand, came forward and raised his hands. He looked up at the top bleachers and searched the crowd, his eyes determined to find you, but it was hard from such a distance.
Caracalla grasped the General's other hand. He was between them, the crowd now chanting all three of their names.
"Are you ready to see these magnificent, mind-blowing games to celebrate his extraordinary achievements?”
When the crowd responded enthusiastically in the affirmative, Geta and Caracalla shouted excitedly at the same time.
“Then let the games begiiiiiiiiiiiin!”
The thick iron gates of the arena rumbled open and two chariots thundered in, their arrival accompanied by the roar of trumpets and the beating of drums. They circled round the arena and stopped in front of the general and the emperors. While the emperors applauded them enthusiastically, the soldiers in charge ordered them to step aside and the chariots moved forward, their warriors saluting the crowd.
“Now, Gladiatoooooors!” Geta shouted and pointed to the other door. The crowd continued to cheer louder when they saw the iron-armored warriors coming out one by one. Every step was a sharp noise, echoing through the arena. The gladiators, seven in number, turned to the emperors and saluted them.
“Ave Imperatores, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, those who are about to die salute you!
Caracalla looked at the General smiling widely.
“Today, the speech is yours, General Acacius!” he shouted and clasped his hand, and sat on his throne.
"Spur them on, you're the expert, I want to see some blood,” Geta said to the general with a wink and sat on his throne, legs crossed, clapping. From a distance, you couldn't hear them or see his face clearly, but you were certain the General was not pleased. As the General raised his arms in the air, the crowd fell silent, and the shouting died down, allowing you to rest your ears a little.
“As a soldier, I can tell you this: When you engage in combat, it is important to maintain a positive mindset and avoid thoughts of defeat. You must only think about winning! However, winning is not easy, not just about killing your enemy or defeating him. Absolutely not. Winning is about being remembered with honor, like a hero, even if you die in the end! A true soldier most likely, is not afraid of death. Neither is a true gladiator! He embraces it, caresses it, and even defies it! Today, we want to see a real gladiator who can kill death itself! Prove you can achieve it and make your emperors proud! Fight with honor and win the crowd!”
The general's speech was a roaring success, prompting a rapturous response from the assembled crowd. The drums beat again, and the gladiators raised their swords in salute to the general and gathered together in a defensive position.
He was the real deal: a genuine commander and warrior. He made your heart beat fast and you admired him.
As the battle between gladiators and other warriors commenced, you began to feel a certain degree of apprehension. You had seen blood and wounded people before, of course, but this was not the point. The point was that these warriors, whose bodies were being ruthlessly cut and torn apart, were being watched with enthusiasm and laughter by the crowd. You were grateful for the top stand, thankful that you were watching from there. You knew you wouldn't have been able to bear to see such an atrocity up close.
The warriors in the chariot had lost all their horses, also torn apart mercilessly, they jumped down and attacked the gladiators with their spears, killing, and butchering a few in the process. Only two gladiators and three warriors remained. They all had cuts on exposed parts of their bodies and blood oozing from their injured areas, but they were completely focused on survival and didn't have time to care. The dusty floor of the Colosseum was stained red, and the smell of blood wafted around in clouds of dust, like the smell of red-hot iron. The gladiators roared their triumph as they slew the last of the warriors, and their voices echoed throughout the Colosseum. The sounds of drumbeats, applause, whistles, cheers, curses, and laughter filled the air.
The emperors rose to their feet and expressed their approval and support for the gladiators through applause and cheers. Once their orations had concluded, the gladiators proceeded through the reopened iron gates, whereupon the drumming ceased. The sole remaining auditory stimulus was the noise of the crowd. The general and emperors were no longer visible, so you decided to leave, as the noise was already causing a headache.
Your legs were aching as you descended the steps, but it was just as hard to get down as it was to get up. After all, you had watched from the top and it was quite high. You had never been up to such a high building before and you were certain that you would never go up again.
When you reached the ground floor, you looked around, but there was no one you recognized. Senators and other dignitaries were leaving the Coliseum one by one, talking among themselves about the evening banquet. You weren't sure that the General would take you there. He was nowhere to be seen, but you kept looking for him. When you took a few steps in the opposite direction to where the people were coming from, you were frightened that you might meet your brothers. When you saw a white shawl his wearing, you approached the General, who was talking to one of the senators. He turned his head and saw you. But you noticed the emperors were walking towards you from another direction. You reeled back in shock and turned on your heel. You were never prepared to see them so close. You strode through the exit and headed for the stairs. Since already climbed and descended quite a few stairs today your feet were no longer firmly planted on the ground. As you quickly went down, you suddenly lost your balance and found yourself on the ground. You shivered when you felt the cold stones against your skin and scowled at the women nearby who were laughing at you as you tried to figure out what had happened. You sat down on the marble stairs, heard his voice and footsteps hurrying down behind you, and soon felt the breeze from his shawl caress your back."Aya!" The General reached out, grasped your hand gently, and lifted you up.
"Are you alright?" He checked your feet and then your face, clearly concerned.
“Ah, as always, our General is a gentleman, isn't he, brother?”
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you heard Caracalla's voice so close. They must have seen the General holding your hand so you immediately withdrew them from the General's and stepped back, bowing your head. However, they were already descending the stairs slowly, their gaze fixed on you.
“Indeed, aren’t you going to introduce us to this beautiful lady, General Acacius?” Geta asked curiously. From where he stood, he looked taller than the general.
“Is she your secret lover or something?” Caracalla chuckled, tilting his head to see your face clearly.
“My emperors, the carriage has arrived,” you could have sworn you'd heard that voice before. When you looked at her, the Empress Julia Domna stared at you raising her eyebrows and came a little closer. You averted your eyes, the feeling that you had seen this woman before took over your whole body and made you even more nervous than your brothers did.
“We just met the General's lover, Mother,” Caracalla laughed.
“Lover?” She sized you up and gave you a stunned look.
“My slave highness,” the General corrected him. You immediately bowed your head and greeted them formally.
“A slave? How fortunate you are, I have never seen such a beautiful slave,” Geta said, his eyes wide, and you felt him tense as the General's body moved slightly in front of yours. You felt grateful as you hid yourself behind his shawl.
“She reminded me of the Germans, remember?" he chuckled and covered his mouth.
Geta accompanied his laughter and punched him jokingly in the shoulder. Then he looked at you again. “Restrain yourself, brother, this is something completely different, you know what I mean?"
Caracalla huffed, “Tempting!"
You had no idea what they were talking about, and despite your best efforts to keep your eyes off Julia, she was always looking at you.
“Bring her to the banquet,” Caracalla said excitedly, clasping his hands together.
“But Highness, you know, women are not allowed there,” Julia said loudly.
“The Empress is right, only senators and patricians, just like any other banquets,” the General said with a sharp tone.
“How boring, I'd like her to serve me, pour me some wine, so I'd see a pretty face instead of those ugly blokes' faces all night.” Caracalla pursed his lips.
Geta sighed at his reaction and put his palm in his foreground. “You’re still a child brother, if you want a girl to get laid, I'll get you one after the banquet,” he turned his head to general. “Spending the night with another Roman's slave would be a bit of theft,” he said with a grin that showed all of his teeth at the General.
The General clenched his jaw and looked at him menacingly. You felt shivers run down your spine. Domna looked at them with concern and tried to ease the atmosphere by clapping her hands. “That's enough gentlemen, I'm famished, watching the games made me real hungry,” she took Geta's arm “Shall we?” She must have been pretty familiar with this kind of situation.
Geta turned to General one last time, ”We wanted to send you a new slave as a gift, tonight,” his eyes searching you up and down.
"That is very kind of you, but I must refuse,” the General said in a firm tone.
He inhaled deeply, "It's not hard to guess why," he smiled crookedly.
“Then I want it for myself, as you promised,” Caracalla whined, taking Geta's other arm.
“Share with me?”
“You just said it's a theft.”
“Cruel.”
They kept up their debate while they walked towards the waiting carriage. It seemed like the tension was slowly easing.
Once they were in their carriage and out of sight, the general turned to you with a look of frustrated annoyance on his face. Meeting your brothers for the first time was awkward, but it was clear that they had always been like that, and everyone, including their mother, accepted it as normal.
“Are they always like this?”
“Worse.”
“They're like spoiled little children,” you snapped.
He let out a little laugh, putting a hand to his mouth, which surprised you. You thought he'd scold you for criticizing the emperors in his presence. But he didn’t, also, his smile was so beautiful that you couldn't help but smile back.
“Have you seen the games? What do you think?” The General asked you curiously.
“Well a bit, bloody.”
He smirked. “But you're used to seeing blood,” he looked around as if he was waiting for something.
“Yes, but I don't like it when people cut each other mercilessly,” you said in a stubborn tone.
“It's called survival.”
“The game of survival,” you murmured. “I don't know, it doesn't feel right,” you said honestly.
“I'm a warrior too you know, I've fought there countless times,” he said with a proud smile on his face.
You looked at him in surprise, of course, you had expected it, but you shuddered when you imagined him there, fighting for his survival. Soon a carriage pulled up beside you both, he touched your shoulder.
"You'd better go to the villa now. They're expecting me at the banquet," he said.
“I want to say thank you, for bringing me here today,” you said softly as he helped you into the carriage.
“The pleasure is mine," he said gently, his eyes meeting yours made you smile undoubtedly.
He then gestured to the coachman and the horses began to move, pulling the carriage forward.
As the carriage carried you away from the General, you continued to observe him from beneath the curtain until his silhouette in white receded from your view.
The next morning, you opened your eyes and smiled when you heard the rooster crowing cheerfully. You sat up with a yawn, you saw that Norell was already up her mattress was empty, clearly started the day before you. You looked out the window while your mind returned to the events of the previous day. You thought about the ceremony, the games, the gladiators, the blood, your first sight of your arrogant and strange brothers, and that brown-skinned man, Macrinus. And of course, the General. When he stood with that golden crown on his head… You smiled to yourself, remembering him, and suddenly your cheeks flushed. You were surprised every time because you had never experienced such feelings in your body before. It was all so new to you.
On the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about what Macrinus had said. You were sure he was planning something. It was hard to know if it would be right to tell the General everything, how he would react, who he would side with. Then you remembered the letter, and your body stiffened almost like a statue of Venus. It had completely slipped your mind that you had left it in his room. He didn't have a chance to touch his stuff yesterday because he arrived late at the villa, but he would definitely touch it eventually. You quickly tidied yourself and your hair and walked out of your room. As you stood there by the stairs leading up to the General's room, wondering what to do, Norell came up to you, carrying a tray with food on it.
“Are you taking this to the General?”
“Yes, he must be awake by now.”
“I'll take it to him,” you said and took the tray from her.
“Are you sure? The Master has warned us not to let you do too much work.”
“I'll talk to him, don't worry, I need to check his wound anyway,” you said smiling at her.
“Well, I was afraid of dropping the tray,” she gasped.
“What's wrong?” you put the tray on a nearby chair and went over to her, she was pressing her hand to her stomach.
“Well, it’s my moon,” she smiled at you, her freckled cheeks flushed.
“Oh, do you want me to give you an herbal mixture for the pain?”
“Would that help?”
“It works for me.”
You strode into the room and picked up your leather bag, looking through the few remaining bottles of medicine. You were running low on supplies. When you returned to her side, Norell was sitting in a chair, pressing her hands to her stomach.
You poured some of the medicine from the bottle into a bowl on the tray and crushed it, then poured a little wine into a cup, also from the tray, and diluted the mixture.
"That was the master's cup," Norell declared.
"I'll get a new one from the kitchen, drink this, and I'll be right back."
You had to cross to the other courtyard to get to the kitchen, where you had last entered the balneum. You felt your cheeks flush as you remembered the last time you were there with the General there. You returned to the main courtyard with a new cup, put it on the tray, and looked at Norell, who was grimacing as she drank the herbal concoction you had given her.
"This tastes awful," she complained.
"That's why you should drink it all, dear,” you smiled at her.
Then you picked up the tray and ascended the stairs, one by one. You stopped in front of the General's room, propped the tray up with one hand, and knocked on the door with the other. You opened the door and entered. He was sitting at his desk, looking at papers. He seemed busy. You saw the calamus pen and papers in his hand and knew you had to make a plan to get the letter before he found it.
When he looked up and saw you, he raised his eyebrows. "Have you decided to be my slave now?"
"Well, Norell is not feeling well. I'm helping her, at least for today." You put the tray down on the table and turned towards him, your gaze fixed on the wooden chest next to him.
"What's wrong? Is she alright?"
"It's a woman's issue that happens every month," you explained.
"Oh, I see," he murmured and returned to his papers.
“May I take a look at your wound? As your medicus, of course.”
"So you will appear to be both my slave and medicus today.” He put the pen on the desk, took the paper in his hand, folded it, stuffed it into the envelope, and sealed with pressing his own seal on the wax.
"I guess I am, for today," your eyes were still on the chest, wondering how to get the letter without him noticing.
His lips curled into a smile. "I feel blessed.”
Acacius stood, wearing a dark purple tunic with gold embroidery on the sleeves and collar. He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge of it, looking at you. You moved closer to him and had to bend down to check on his wound. Looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you put your bag on the bed, a bit away from him who had rolled up his tunic.
As you stood in front of him and leaned over him, he was surprised to feel the light breeze of your hair hit his face. He leaned back a little, but it gave him a better view of your breasts, he swallowed hard making him stunned. Then he turned his head away, even though it was so difficult for him, but he waited patiently. You were no different from him as you checked his wound, oblivious to everything, touching his skin made you tense every time.
The General's wound was almost healed but you noticed a rash around the cut.
“Do you have any itching or pain, sir?”
“Itching, yes, a little, pain, no.”
There’s pain, thought Acacius, but it's not where my wound is, deep in my chest.
He turned his head towards you again and looked into your beautiful eyes shining like a gem under your long eyelashes, he embraced his pain meanwhile. But it wasn't just it. The general was experiencing a whole range of sensations he hadn't felt in a long time, and it was unlike anything he'd ever fully experienced with a woman. You unintentionally revived memories of his naive and callow youth, but he appeared to find it amusing.
“I need to make an ointment for that-“
But just as you straightened up to reach for your bag, you felt pressure and pain in your neck. Looking down, you realize that the chains of the necklace you were wearing were caught in the trimmings on the collar of the general's tunic, stuck in its threads.
He was taken aback, but perhaps not as much as you were. The expression on your face, as you tried to pull your neck backward in utter shock, made him giggle. Unfortunately, you found it difficult to remain calm and the first thing that came to your mind was to unlock the necklace. So when you reached your hands back behind your neck, you lost your balance and fell on top of him. The General was a trained soldier, with well-developed arm and back muscles and a body that could easily carry such a light load in that position. All in all, he was a man so when you fell and your breasts hit his muscular chest, feeling them beneath the thin fabric, made him fall backward onto the bed.
You gasped as you found yourself in this awkward situation without even realizing how it had happened. With a quick move, you put one hand on the bed to sit up and realized that the other was on the general's chest, you withdrew it and looked at his face to check his reaction. The general looked back at you, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, but you were blinking your eyes in surprise. You frantically tried to stand up, but your necklace, as if mocking you, wouldn't let you. He grabbed your shoulders and stopped you as you struggled over his body. You were making it difficult for him to remain calm with your movements, and he was starting to lose his patience.
“Easy, would you?” He growled. His hands reached behind your neck and he murmured as he unlocked the necklace. "Stay still. I can't restrain myself if you keep moving like this.”
Your face flushed like a crimson hue as you realized what he was talking about, gasped as you felt between your legs, beneath the fabric, a part of his body pressing against your womanhood.
“You really don't know how to behave around a man, you are so careless,” he chastised you.
Once your neck was free from the damn necklace, you stood up quickly, feeling a slight soreness in your neck.
“I've spent more time around men than you think, sir,” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand.
As he removed your necklace from the collar of his tunic, a few threads of the fabric snapped with it. “But you were dressing like them, they didn't know you were a woman,” he corrected you. ‘You have to be careful from now on, especially when you're dressed like this.’
"Forgive me, sir," you said, feeling a little embarrassed to look him in the face.
"Your face is as red as wine," he chuckled, sitting up in bed.
You bit your lower lip and pursed your lips, then went over to your bag and picked it up to make the ointment. The medicine bottles rattled as they came out of the bag, and the general looked at them curiously. "You've been carrying these in your bag all this time?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," you replied, uncapping the green bottle, shaking it, and pouring a few drops into the empty bowl on the tray. As you stirred and softened the ointment with your index finger you murmured, “I made all this myself, but it’s almost ran out.’
“Impressive.”
Once the ointment was ready to be applied, you took the bowl in your other hand and approached the general.
“Sir, I need to apply this ointment to the wound.”
“Careful and don't throw yourself on me this time,” he giggled as he grabbed the hem of his tunic and pulled it up once more.
You swallowed and cleared your throat, trying to stay calm, dipped the tip of your finger into the bowl, took some and applied it to the wound.
"You're making the same mistake again," he teased.
You frowned, not quite understanding what he was saying. You were sure you applied the ointment well, but looks like this was not the issue. When you looked at him, you caught him staring at your breasts. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his eyes meeting yours. His brown eyes were warm and intense, making your heart melt.
"Never bend over another man like that," he whispers.
As his warm breath brushed against your cheek, your heartbeat quickened. "I-I won't," you stammered.
He released your wrist, and you stepped back and put the bowl on the desk. “It needs to be applied at night too, I think you can handle it,” you said with your back turned. You glanced at the wooden chest out of the corner of your eye. It seemed like you wouldn't have a chance to get the letter, at least not while he was still in his room.
“Yes, I'm grateful,” said the general, standing up and coming over to you taking the bowl and sniffing it.
"The aroma is pleasing; what is this?"
You smiled at him. “Asphodeloideae (aloe vera), sir, it does indeed have a pleasing aroma. It has been demonstrated to accelerate the healing of burns and itching wounds. But I'm afraid it's about to run out, so just use it until it's finished.”
Acacius perched himself on the edge of this desk, looking at you. “Carrying all these bottles in your bag might be a little difficult. Besides, you say you're out of supplies, I will be traveling to the city and subsequently to the barracks tomorrow, would you like to come with me?”
“To the barracks?”
“Absolutely not,” his voice was loud and sharp. “I meant to say, I shall convey you to the city in my carriage, and return for you when I have finished my business.”
Pleased by his offer, “Sir, that would be great, thank you.”
He smiled softly at you and walked over to the table to eat the food you had brought for him. As you grabbed your bag and headed for the door to leave the room, he stopped you by extending his hand.
“Won't you join me?”
You turned your head to him. He pointed to the chair opposite him with his hand. “Have a seat, I need to make sure my medicus has eaten something.”
You smiled, did as he said, putting your bag down. Acacius picked up the wine cup, you reached for the decanter before him.
“Allow me, please.”
He smiled gratefully as you poured the wine from the decanter into his cup.
“You are getting better and better at being a slave, you are willing to fulfill all my needs. Except one.”
You almost spilled all the wine when you met his piercing eyes. You slowly placed the decanter on the tray. While you were calculating what to say, he put his hand on yours which holds the handle of the decanter.
"Don't you have any feelings for me?” He was looking at you from under his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for your answer.
His gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes, you lingered looking into his eyes, even if you said what you felt now, it was very difficult to predict what would happen next. You wondered if he would love you for who you really were.
“It's all so new to me also very hard to say anything for sure. But…"
“But?”
You were trying to think rationally under the influence of his gaze, but you were failing.
“I feel happy when I'm with you, and… I miss you when you're not around,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks burning.
“At least there's a silver lining.” Acacius smiled widely, lifted your hand, and placed a kiss on it.
It was an ordinary day in the streets of Rome, blessed by clear sky and sunshine. The sounds of birdsong were interspersed with those of the rooster. Some people wandered the streets on foot, chatting to each other, while others mounted horses and rode along the stone paths at a pace that caused the hooves of the horses to clatter against the buildings with a distinct echoing sound. The sound of a nearby blacksmith's hammer striking an anvil could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the voices of merchants trying to attract customers to their businesses and draw attention to the goods they were offering for sale. Women often inspected the exhibits before making a purchase and then had their slaves carry them home. Since the clothing and accessories worn by each group reflected their status, it was relatively easy to distinguish between social classes.
You and Norell were walking around the streets in your slave clothes and cloaks to buy something just like other Romans. You still couldn't get used to these clothes. When men and women stared at you, wished you were invisible, as you used to be.
You entered the market street and noticed the large crowd gathered in front of the stalls. There were pots, vegetables, fruits, fabrics, fish, butchers, and plants. The plants, herbs, and flowers on the stalls were very varied and fresh. Once you had purchased what you needed and placed it in your bags, you walked down the street once more, recounting to Norell the events of the previous day and your observations at the Colosseum, as she had requested.
"You know he's in love with you, right?" Norell looked at you suggestively through her yellowish eyelashes.
"Are you talking about the General?
“Is there someone else?" she teased, then inhaled deeply. "I wouldn't be surprised, you're quite attractive."
“Oh, Norell, please," you whined.
“I know you love him too, why are you avoiding my question?"
You smiled shyly, “I’m not sure what I feel. How can you be so sure of his feelings anyway?”
You both waited for a carriage to pass in front of you before crossing the street.
“Because I've known him since I was young and I've never seen the General like this before. Even Tullia is worried, she's angry with you, you know.”
You looked at her with your hazel eyes wide open. “Why? But I didn't do anything wrong, I did everything the General asked.”
Once the carriage had passed, you crossed the street and continued walking along the avenue where the west front of the Colosseum was visible. Norell took your arm.
“I don't know how it was where you come from, but here slaves have to fulfill their master’s every need. So Tullia thinks you’re not obeying him.” You were offended by being treated as a slave, but you couldn't blame her for being unaware of the truth about you. You turned your head to her and kept your voice low. “He said he would not touch me against my will.”
“Oh, that's why he's so upset then.”
You stopped and looked at her. “Upset?”
Her brown eyes looked sad. “Every night before I go to bed, I see him looking deep in thought at his balcony. And during the day, he's there, watching whatever you're doing. It's not like him.”
Was he? Somewhere deep in your chest, you felt a sharp, intense pain.
“Other slaves, the beautiful ones, are raped, killed or sold. Even among the nobles, there are those who are forced into marriage and have to sleep with a man they don't love. I know you've never been touched by a man before and neither have I. But if I found someone who could love me the way he loves you, I would give myself to him.” She blinks at you.
You were absolutely certain of her sincerity, but your situation was quite different from that of other slaves, even from all other Roman women.
“I suppose I should confess my feelings to myself first,” you murmured.
“My Lady!”
You and Norell turned to see who was speaking. You were surprised to see Macrinus standing next to you in his cloak.
"I was hoping to meet you," he said, looking around, then came closer. "But, you are very careless," he said in a low voice. "You attract too much attention."
You couldn't understand what he was saying. "Sir, why do you seem to be hiding?”
"I'm lurking because I've been following you for some time, and luckily I found you without anyone noticing."
"Why did you follow me?"
"We need to talk, but not here. We are too exposed.”
“What's going on, Aya? Who is this man?” You forgot for a moment that Norell was looking at you both in confusion.
Macrinus looked at her and then at you then he turned his head to the street.
“Norell, I'll tell you everything later,” you said, touching her shoulder then turned to Macrinus. “Sir, I don't think it’s the right time-”
He grabbed your arm gently. “You don't realize how much danger you are in, Julia suspects something and it's only a matter of time before she finds you.”
“How do you mean?”
"I'll tell you everything, but right now we need to move." He gestured to you as he walked to the other side of the street, you nodded and pulled Norell's arm, you felt uncomfortable going without her.
"Are you going to tell me what is happening? Who is this man?"
"Trust me and wait, I'll tell you everything at once, I promise."
She wasn't convinced, but she nodded and remained silent.
You and Norell followed Macrinus for a few more streets, maintaining a safe distance from the people around you. It didn't take long for you to notice that the streets were getting quieter. There were fewer people around, and the streets were narrower and more secluded. After passing through a narrow, dead-end street, Macrinus stopped, threw back his hood, and turned to you. When you realized Norell was squeezing your arm, you looked at her. Seeing her looking at a structure at the end of the street, petrified. You turned your head to that direction to find out what was worrying her. It was a large but untidy two-story house. The curtains were blowing out of the windows in the wind, they were all red.
“Gods, it’s…whore house," Norell muttered.
You turned to Macrinus in disbelief. At that moment, two men approached you from down the street, surveyed you both, and continued on their way, laughing.
“I'm sorry, my lady, but this is the safest place to talk.”
"To talk? What are you planning? How could you think I would be in such a place?"
Your voice echoed through the cobbled streets as Macrinus approached you, his expression grave.
"I can't speak to you safely anywhere else, your appearance would draw attention if we were in a tavern or other. But this place is too remote for anyone to think of it, you know what I mean, and nothing will happen to you, the one who runs this place knows me and I trust her."
When Norell grabbed your arm, you moved a little away from Macrinus, closer to the wall.
“Look Aya, I don't know what's going on, but this is not good, if the General finds out about this-.”
"I know. He knows my real family, and I trust him.” You lied. “Don't worry, you go to the place where we'll meet with the carriage and wait for me. I don't want you to go there with me."
"I don't think you should go in there either."
You gave Macrinus a quick look, then turned to Norell. "I know, it won't take long, I promise."
Norell looked at you and Macrinus with concern.
"If you won't be there in time, I'll tell the General everything," she said, sounding more like she wanted Macrinus to hear him. You looked at him in panic, but he didn't look surprised. You knew that moment you had to talk to him, no matter what. You were almost certain that he was planning to threaten the General through you.
Once Norell turned the corner into another alley, you turned to Macrinus. He smiled at you, turned, and walked towards the house. He no longer seemed nervous, as if he comes here, and walks through here often. You, however, were tense, feeling abandoned by Norell's leaving and like you'd put yourself in great danger.
Macrinus lifted the iron knocker of the big wooden door and rapped twice. At that moment, you tensed even more as you heard voices coming from inside, your face flushing red with embarrassment. A short, poorly dressed man opened the door and looked at Macrinus, then at you. When his eyes met yours, you looked away.
"Tell Juturna I'm here."
The man gave you one last look and went inside. Macrinus gestured for you to come in as he moved quickly down the corridor. You swallowed and deliberately ignored the voices as you walked in.
“Did it really have to be here?”
“I'm sorry, I understand why you're uncomfortable, but it really is safer than you think.”
Macrinus smirks, but you grow more and more nervous, everyone here men, and women is almost naked even in the mural pictures dyed on the walls. The voices were getting louder and louder when a middle-aged woman came running towards you. She wore too much make-up and smiled broadly at Macrinus.
"Sire, how good to see you again."
"Private room now."
She tilted her head to look at you with wide eyes, you turned your head and wrapped your cloak tightly around your arms, covering your body. She pressed her hand to her chest, "Gods, it's been years since such a beauty drops in here.”
"Don't overstep your bounds, she's a lady!" Macrinus scolded him.
"Apologies, sire. Have your way to up the stairs and the boys will show you to your room," she said with a grin.
Following Macrinus into the hallway, seeing some young girls, half-naked, talking amongst themselves. As you passed them, they looked at you strangely. You felt sorry for them, but also a bit disgusted.
A young boy gestured to the room, and Macrinus invited you in after he had entered. You were almost startled when the door closed behind you. Looked around quickly to observe, red curtains, orange bedspread and pillows, overturned wine cups and fruits in a bowl on the table, and various colored fabrics on the chairs. And the smell... You couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in this room. It made you feel sick.
Macrinus saw your unease and pulled out the chair for you to sit down.
"Have a seat, my lady."
You gave him a look that said you weren't going to be pushed around and sat down on the chair, crossing your arms to avoid touching anything else. "Tell me what I need to know. I don't have much time."
Macrinus took another wine cup from the other table in the corner of the room, poured wine into, and handed it to you. You made a gesture with the back of your hand and shook your head no.
"Are you afraid of the General?" he asked as he sat down in the chair opposite you. "I know you're staying at his villa. How long has he known?”
"He doesn’t! I can assure you that the General has nothing to do with it.”
Macrinus crossed his legs and took a sip of his wine.
"Of course he does. He'll take you to Geta himself as soon as he finds out."
You thought about him. Would he really do that? You couldn't find the answer, and you hated it.
"The general is a man of honor. He will understand when I tell him."
"Are you saying you can lure him to our side?"
"Our side?" You leaned over the chair towards him, "What is your purpose?"
"It's simple. I'm going to present you to the Senate and get them to recognize you unanimously. You will be formally designated as the heiress to the imperial throne. I really wonder about the emperors’ face when they find out."
Macrinus laughed and took a quick sip of wine.
"How do I know you're not lying to me and you're actually on the emperors’ side at this moment?"
Macrinus narrowed his eyes and looked at you. "I am close to Caracalla. He trusts me." He extended his hand toward you, placing one of the red grapes from the table in it. "I have him right in the palm of my hand, right here, and when the time comes…" He closed his palm and squeezed the grape, the pinkish juice of the grape slowly flowed between his fingers and dripped on the floor. You looked at him in disgust as he ate smashed grapes and licked his own palm.
“And what do you want from me? What will you gain if the Senate recognizes me?”
“I promised your father I would restore peace to Rome, and after he sent you away, he asked me to find Vicius and make sure you were safe. So as I stated before, I went to Egypt to find you, Vicius managed to hide you, he didn't believe me, he was very good at covering his tracks. No wonder he kept you hidden all this time. On the way back, news reached me of your father's death in York, and by the time I got back to the capital, Caracalla and Geta had declared their empire.”
That was four years ago, and it was no coincidence that on that very day, your uncle took you from home to the Valetudinarium in Alexandria. But you still weren't sure whether he had done it to protect you from Macrinus or from your emperor brothers or Julia.
“You said Julia suspected something.”
Macrinus was a man of very calm demeanor; it was hard to tell from his expression what he was thinking. “If Julia finds out you're alive, she'll take your life without a second thought.”
You swallowed hard, you already disliked her when you met her on the day of the ceremony.
“But I'm a woman, I can't be a threat to the throne,” you said looking at him, Macrinus put his cup on the table and leaned forward.
“But if one day you give birth to a son, my lady, you will be the greatest threat of all. She is a woman who keeps the General and her sons in balance, do not underestimate her. She wants Acacius in the Senate, to gain power over me.” He reached for a bunch of grapes and plucked one. “But I have secured my position, and with you we can save Rome from them for good.” He popped a grape into his mouth and smiled at you as he chewed.
“What about the General, what will happen to him?”
He stopped chewing. “He has to choose. But before, he could be charged with treason for hiding you in his villa.”
“No, I told you, there’s nothing like that, he doesn't know about the letter. He doesn't know who I really am,” you yelled at him.
“Do you really think emperors would care about that?”
You knew the answer, your heart began beating in your throat. It wasn't fair that the General should face such an offense because of you.
"If you go to the Senate, there'll be a trial and a judgment, and we'll win. No doubt about it. I'll send the word tonight. The court will convene the day after tomorrow. I can hide you until then," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to you.
You regarded him with a determined expression. "I am grateful for your kindness, but I believe I will be safer with the General, I would like to leave now before he finds me here. Moreover, I am not yet ready to trust you fully."
Macrinus laughed. "My lady, I believe that attitude will serve you well in front of the Senate. It might be beneficial to adopt a similar stance.”
As you left the room, you felt a strong inclination to descend the stairs as quickly as possible, in order to avoid the rather pungent odours and sounds. As you passed the rooms one by one, you heard what seemed to be a cry. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a face you had seen before. You stopped, and when you wanted to look again to make sure, you turned your head, and lifted the torn red curtain blocking the entrance of the room to see her face. It was her, Decima, the girl you met on the ship and with whom you had the good fortune to become friends. You shared your secrets with her, and you had always assumed that she had been sold to a wealthy man. You hoped that she had been happy until now. You were so wrong. You felt your body trembling as your eyes began to well up with tears.
"Are you all right, my lady?" Macrinus asked, concern evident in his voice which came to you in a blur.
"Decima!" You ran into the room beside her, grabbing her shoulders. She was startled, then looked at you with a surprised look on her face and started to cry. You hugged her and pressed her head to your chest.
"Have you been here all this time?”
She was visibly distraught, and your heart ached for her. "I thought you had forgotten me," she sobbed.
"Never. I thought that nobleman had bought you. What happened?"
"No, he didn't," she mumbled, shaking her head.
Without a second thought you grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room.
Macrinus stepped in front of you. “My lady, you can't do this, she belongs here now.”
"No way! I'm taking her with me!" You barked and pushed him aside, pulled Decima by the arm ran to the stairs, and kept walking while ignoring the murmuring, and shouting coming behind you.
“Hey! How you? She's my slave, I paid eight thousand sesterces for her!” Juturna, who owned the place got up from her seat and came over to you, she was angry. Two guards at the door came in, blocking your way with a threatening and mocking demeanor.
Macrinus came running behind. “My lady, please, let her go. Those are the rules here. I’m begging you.”
It never felt right, you didn't want to leave Decima there to her fate. Then, someone came running up to Macrinus and whispered something in his ear. He tensed, cursed angrily, and turned his head to you. “Acacius is here. I need to go. Please don't do anything dull,” he warned you. Then he made his way back down the corridor and stepped through the door that led to the rear entrance.
You swallowed hard when you heard the General’s name, you had to think fast, decide fast. Then you opted to follow your heart, rather than your mind. As you grabbed Decima's hand and headed for the door, it opened with a thud and the General stormed in. You both regarded each other with surprise, but his expression soon became one of anger.
“General Acacius, sir!” Juturna approached him.
He didn't hear her, didn't look around, he was as angry as you'd ever seen him, with a piercing gaze that took hold of yours. As he reached out and grabbed your arm, you pulled back with all your strength. But the second time he grabbed again and pulled roughly, you couldn't find the strength to pull back. But you didn't intend to let go of Decima's hand either.
“Sir, please tell her something, she's trying to take my slave.” The woman bowed her head in front of the general and squinted at you.
“She is my friend, please help me, sir,” you said pleadingly.
"I'm a Roman citizen, and this one belongs to me. You clearly don't know the laws. Give her to me now," she said, grabbing Decima's other arm and pulling her along.
“No!”
“Let her go, Aya!” the General roared, but you didn't listen to him. Before you could even think about reaching for Decima, he grabbed your arm again and pulled you to outside, but you struggled with all your strength. The General let out a low growl, and before you knew it, the ground gave way beneath your feet. He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. Your face hit the leather armor on his muscular back with a thump, leaving you gasping in surprise. You struggled to get free, but he held on tight, carrying you out.
“No! Let me down! Please!” No matter what you said, it didn't stop him, you tried to lift your head to look at Decima, but when you saw that the door was closed, you got angry.
You started punching his back, but it was like hitting a stone wall. He tightened his muscular arm around the back of your thighs, right near your butt. As he carried you, your loud voice echoed through the whole street. People in the street looked at you curiously as they saw the general had come with you over his shoulder to the carriage. You gave up struggling, and he set you down.
Your hair was a mess, but all you had on your mind was getting back to Decima. He saw you looking back, grabbed your arm, and put you and then himself into the carriage. He ordered the coachman to drive and then he started his horses. He sat you down next to him and never let go of your arm. When the carriage moved, he loosened his grip and turned his head towards you. But you were looking the other way. Norell sitting across from you, her lips tightly closed, so ashamed to look the general in the face, blaming herself. No one spoke the whole way, only the sound of the wheels rolling on the stony ground echoed inside the carriage.
Upon arrival at the villa, Norell regarded the General and you with a timid expression before exiting the carriage. You didn't move, your anger still raw. In the end, your stubbornness made him give up and he got out. "Come out now," he ordered.
He was waiting for you with his hand extended. You inhaled and stood up, but instead of taking his hand, you grabbed the side of the car as you stepped out. You walk briskly into the Villa's garden and leave him behind. As you came into the garden, you saw Tullia and Norell whispering to each other. You glanced at them, and they looked over at the general, who was walking quickly behind you. They seemed tense. As you were heading to your room, a strong hand grabbed your wrist. He pulled you to the stairs this time you didn’t resist. He led you to his room and closed the door.
He turned to you, first his brown eyes met yours and then he calculated what to say or tried to remain calm.
“You will never go there again, do you hear me?”
You glanced over at the balcony, and he stepped a little closer. “How could you go there? How could you put yourself in danger like that? What were you thinking?”
“She's my friend,” you murmured, looking at the setting sun on the horizon through the window.
“Even so, there's nothing you can do for her, the rules apply to everyone.”
“That could have been me,” you turned your head to him. “I could have been one of those poor girls if you-” you swallowed, your voice was trembling.
Acacius' expression softened as he moved closer to you. "I'm truly sorry about your friend, but you need to let it go. I need you to promise me you won't go there again." His brown eyes were bathed in the orangish sunlight streaming through the window. They were looking at you with intensity, delving deeply into your soul. You wondered how you could still be so stubborn, defying him like that. You closed your eyes and crossed your arms, realizing your disobedience, he grabbed your shoulders. "I may be a gentle master to you, but don't even think to test my patience.”
At that moment, the anger that was welling up inside you was trying to get out.
“I am not your slave! I never have been! I'm-”
You almost would tell him everything, but not feeling ready yet, not like this. He was far from being surprised, it’s like he knew you were going to say that.
“As for that, I couldn't find any proof that you were a Roman citizen,” Acacius pulled his hands back, “I recently sent a letter to the governor in Egypt regarding your uncle's funeral. I have received a reply from him today. It seems that he does not have any relatives, only his wife and himself. Interestingly, there is no record of the name Aya.”
It was rather unexpected. You were unprepared for how quickly he discovered the truth. As he approached, you instinctively braced yourself and took a step back. You winced when your back hit the stone wall. Acacius placed his palms on the wall, either side of your head. His brown eyes darkened as he leaned in, almost close enough to kiss you. You placed your hands against the wall behind you, feeling the coolness of the stone in your palms and on your skin, in an attempt to gather your strength. His eyes locked onto yours as if he were questioning you.
“Who are you?”
thank you everyone for all likes and comments <3
@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda
if anyone wants me to tag them please comment :) thank you all <3
67 notes
·
View notes
The Penguin: Episode 1 Breakdown
Thank you Lauren LeFranc, Mike Marino, Colin Farrell and Matt Reeves, we owe you the world for this, good God. It's finally here everyone and I've decided I'm gonna give each episode it's own post/breakdown of thoughts, because hahaha holy shit you guys this is beyond what I even dreamed of, and we're gonna be covering this for a while I think. I've worked out enough madness about this out of my system by talking with friends and I can't seem to be able to work on anything else till I get this done, so let's do it.
Bottom line: This isn't even just a must-watch if you like the Penguin or if you like The Batman, this is something I'd recommend to just about anyone in a heartbeat, something I can point to when people ask "why do you like The Penguin so much" and, instead of the elaborate nerd ramble that usually turns them off, I can just tell them to watch this. A friend of mine (who already loves Batman and digs the Penguin quite a bit) even told me as much, that he's starting to get why I love the character so much, and truly, is there a better feeling than this? Well, there is, and it's watching the show. Let's dig into this first episode:
Right upfront I'm gonna say that this doesn't really seem to be the Sopranos rip-off that people have been calling it before release, although there are definitely Sopranos comparisons to make here. I've spent the past months finally watching The Sopranos in order to get the comparison and definitely want to talk about those comparisons after I finish it (and this show ends). This thing aims to stand on it's own legs as a crime show and it's smashing out of the gate with an extremely promising first episode.
So this just casually opens with the reveal that all along, there was a second rich Gotham the whole time that was completely unaffected by everything we saw in the movie, already throwing a great twist on the events of that movie, and further reinforcing how fucking full of shit The Riddler was. All we saw Batman and the others deal with in the movie was just affecting the poorer parts of the city. All Eddie did was drown rats, and make life worse for the people already in the bottom, while never even getting close to targeting the systemic rot that ruined his life. He retains ideological worshippers in subways obsessed with the corruption of the city without doing anything to actually improve it, and because of him, the streets of Gotham are waterlogged shitholes while the rich Falcone suburbs are doing just fine, peachy even.
I said a while back that, in spite of having about 6 scenes/10 minutes of Penguin runtime, The Batman managed to squeeze impeccably controlled Penguin Trademark Scenes, and this show opens with the last one they didn't get to then: Penguin killing someone for making fun of him. In the movie, he tries doing that with Falcone and is beaten to the punch, so here he gets to actually do it to disastrous consequences.
Fucking adore that the inciting incident of the show is based on the fallout of Oswald killing someone for making fun of him. He pours his heart about the dream he lives his life for, his new boss makes fun of him for being an embarassment to their profession and then he does the most typical Penguin thing by killing him for it and laughing afterwards. And then he realizes how badly he fucked up, and then we get a fucking perfect titledrop with his musical theme, the exact moment we finish The Batman and enter The Penguin.
God it is so fucking cool how the make-up/lighting, the scar across his face, makes it look like he's got a genuine beak from certain angles, how they're able to achieve that effect without giving him a more literal beak for a nose. Everytime they talk about the character, Reeves and Farrell always emphasize how integral the make-up was to them figuring out what to do with Oz, how little they knew what to make of his six scenes until Marino created their monster and suddenly everything fell into place. Mike Marino fully deserves co-credit for the creation of Oz.
Pretty amusing that Victor, as designed to be Penguin's Robin, has exactly the same origin as Jason Todd, a poor street kid trying to steal the hubcaps off the Penguinmobile (I'm sure this bodes very well for his odds at survival), as is the way in which Oz goes on about his recruitment. He press-gangs this kid at gunpoint to help him bury a body arguing with himself and eventually the kid why shouldn't he just kill him to be safe, while trying to impress the kid with his car and air freshener and later that bullshit about "What, you think I hire any schmuck off the street?". From the tile drop onwards, he's doing everything on the fly while also spinning long-term plans set in motion as soon as he's on screen, he's taking this kid in out of sympathy and because he enjoys a power dynamic over someone weaker than him and because he very much needs someone to help him get stuff done. I'm extremely interested in exploring Penguin having a mentorship dynamic and I'm beyond curious as to what happens with Victor from this point onwards, but that poor kid is in for a terrible fucking time.
Found it very funny how much he half-asses the murder threat to Victor. Like it's his first time actually doing it and he's trying to be serious, but not too scary because he's already seeing himself in the poor kid with a stutter and wants the kid to think he's also a cool guy like he wants everyone to think he's a cool guy. I also think having Victor as the POV helps to sell moments like these, because it's still terrifying to him. Even as we follow their stories, these power players of Gotham are still big scary monsters to people caught in the dregs and Victor helps to reinforce that.
I enjoy Oz being friends with sex workers and drag queens off the street as much as I enjoy Oz being depicted as the kind of guy who deludes himself into thinking the prostitute he's with actually likes him, Lauren and Farrell launched into a bit about in on the podcast and I'm curious to see what's going on with him and Eve here.
Lots of perfect funny little character moments across the whole thing. Oz insulted by the idea of taking extra pickles off a poor kid's dirty mouth, but with zero hesitation whatsoever for picking jewelry off his boss' corpse. Dude is governed by principles even as he actively has to break them to survive.
"Technically it's plum." "He is the - or was the - new kingpin", "He's got nurse-like qualities." The show is not overtly trying to get you to find Penguin likeable as much as it wants you to find him engaging - making you think he's likeable is Colin Farrell's job and he's masterful at it, definitely a lot more matured within the character compared to the movie.
If there's anything in particular I'm thankful for regarding Gotham (well okay Gotham led directly to Telltale Penguin which was the basis for this one, so really I do have a lot more to be thankful with Gotham), it's the decision to give him a legit waddle via the broken foot, but the way they incorporate it here with the club foot does so much for him, so much as a modern day reinvention of The Penguin. Adds so much to why he's never been a serious candidate for mob leadership, why he kinda had to spend all his time in the Lounge, why he actually needs someone to help him run affairs, why he has such a gaping ego wound and is so murderously angry at people making fun of him / calling him a goddamn penguin, adds so much validation and so much darkness and nuance to Oswald's overwhelming anger and bitterness over how the world treats him (and so much power should he opt to reclaim it, in turn). It's the kind of thing that frankly feels like it should have always been part of the character, like what all the previous versions were itching closer to or trying to get at. Of course this is a guy gets called a penguin and he hates it badly enough to murder people over it, of course.
This gets to really highlight how differently Oz acts depending on who he's with. Traditionally, one of my favorite things about The Penguin, and one of the things that puts him above the other villains, is that, due to his position, he has to interact with a lot more people than the other Bat-villains. He has to manage a lot more relationships and dynamics, he has to play peacekeeper and puppetmaster. he's the only one in the United Underworld who's regularly interacting with and recruiting other villains to do business with. He's the guy who you pin stuff on like the Gangland Guardians, Team Penguin, doing betting pools with the Rogues taking cover in his Lounge while Joker War is happening, having to rig games to keep good standing with Maxie Zeus and Frenchy Blake in Batman Audio Adventures, and so on. So I greatly enjoy this beat here of him talking about how makes himself smaller before the Falcones, and that moment of him adjusting his outfit and practicing expressions in the mirror before meeting with them. How he contorts himself is present in all of his relationships, and retroactively adds to the way he carries himself in The Batman.
It seems that Oz is functionally regarded as the Paulie Walnuts of the Falcones: useful muscle, loyal for the most part and amusing to keep around, but largely an unstable self-serving dumb asskisser kept where he belongs, a liability if not kept on a short leash. I think the show does a good job of highlighting all the reasons why Oz has never been seriously regarded as a viable option for a boss, even putting aside his disability. He is a fundamentally embarassing person for these serious respectable criminals to be around and of course, the joke is ultimately on them..
Of course, there is only two people in the show who actually know what he's capable of, Francis Cobb and Sofia Falcone, said to be the central relationships defining the show moving forward. Both of them also a defining commonality with Oswald, being people who are looked down on and dehumanized, and characters who are underestimated until it's time to bear their fangs.
Extremely invested in where they're going with Sofia Falcone, Cristine Milioti's been killing it, and will in fact not stop killing it. What a perfect villain for Penguin they've set up with her, someone who has his Kryptonite: she does not underestimate him. Although we know in advance that Oz is going to live and be in the next movie, the question here isn't even so much who's going to win the gang war, and rather how much damage these two freaks will do to the city until Batman gets back. In many ways, Sofia represents the shape of things to come just as much as he does.
She is this embodiment of both the pristine unfathomable wealth and privilege and power that he both detests and strives for, as well as this brutal new breed of madness and violence attacking the streets that he has to survive against and make deals with (and is himself very much a part of, however he denies it). She is Falcone's legacy in every way that matters, both a Kingpin of Gotham whose existence creates the oppressive conditions under which a Batman or a Riddler are created, as well as the Arkham Rogue, the larger-than-life sadist with a tragic origin and a signature torture-murder method and an embarassing name for the papers.
Even the fact that she is The Hangman, and Carmine was defined around his penchant for brutally strangling women - regardless of whether or not she did the crimes that got her in Arkham, she's become this larger-than-life themed expression of a violent obsession in a way that sets her up as every bit the Batman villain that The Penguin is. The two champions of the two Gothams, duking it out in this new world The Batman and The Riddler made, The Penguin vs The Hangman.
I am so glad Lauren LeFranc made the call for binning Alberto in the first five minutes so the rest of the show can focus on Sofia and make a real character out of her in a way nobody's ever really done before, every step of the way so far LeFranc has been perfectly on the ball about where to take these characters and their conflict. And speaking of those,
I feel very confident in saying that this is the first time anyone's ever really had something worth doing with Oswald's mother as a character in her own right and not just a source of anguish for Penguin (Gotham was almost onto something with Gertrude, but not nearly enough). When it comes to Penguin origin stories, my favorite's always been the Pre-Crisis one, where he's poor and bullied but happy with his mom and birds until she dies and the government seizes everything he has, which doesn't necessarily involve her much. But here? Francine Cobb is a real character in what little time we get to know her, and what a character she is. We quickly understand the role she's playing in Oz's life, not just as his mom and person he loves and strives to protect, but the person who's sculpting him into the man he's going to become.
She is vulnerable and she does need meds and she's not quite all there, and Penguin's need to care for her is visible in other actions of his. But then they turn it around by showing how strong and demanding she is, how she is fiercely ambitious and pushing him to be something he would otherwise not be, how much she loves him and sees greatness in him. She knows he's a people pleaser, she knows how to push his buttons, and she wants him to be more, so of course he's going to be more, because he lives to please his mom.
Related to this is this absolute bullseye of a summation of The Penguin, that Lauren LeFranc delivered in the podcast: "Perhaps his greatest fear is that love is transactional. And that yet, everything he does, every decision he makes, is as if that's true. As if "love is transactional" is a truth he abides by". Oswald's conception of power is being loved and revered like Rex Calabrese, and the love he wants most in all the world is the one from his mother. So in turn this, and all extensions of it, drive him to greater and darker lengths.
He doesn't have that ambition quite down yet, it's his mom that does. She who's pushing him to take over the city and not just be a guy scraping by for survival. He's smart and ambitious and extremely good at slipping out of trouble, but she's pushing him to be the guy who will be taking the city by the horns because that's what he has to be for their sake. Her legacy to her son is nurturing him having that dog in him that will make him the supervillain who picks fights with Vengeance. She is the force that's turning Oswald into The Goddamn Penguin and I can't wait to see how she's developed.
Of course he reprimands Victor in that scene for lacking ambition, who do you think he gets it from?
Really love what they've done with Sal Maroni in here so far. I like adaptations that take these throwaway Batman backstory gangsters and make something out of them, in this case, with Clancy Brown lending his power and voice and reputation as The Grand Boss of Villainy to play the last Respectable Gangster of Gotham, this intimidating principled old tiger who's inversely proportional to how much of a petty and scummy piece of shit Carmine Falcone was. Extremely a guy I'd want to see playing a hand in the creation of Two-Face. Just as crucial is the fact that he is the one who gets the most effortlessly outplayed by Oz here, because this is The Penguin Show: no room for traditional or respectable gangsters anymore, their purpose is to be crapped all over by our wacko birdman.
There's a lot about this that re-contextualizes his behavior in The Batman and the one I'm gonna point out is: even though he can't be sure his plan didn't completely go to shit, he is still keeping his wits and not being terribly scared about being beaten up and tortured and staring down the scariest Falcone with a gun shoved in his throat. But he craps his pants at the sight of the Batmobile. He gets pain, he gets indignity, but he doesn't get Vengeance, what kind of sick freak would come up with the stuff that guy does. A gun in his mouth and Falcone torture is just Tuesday, but a car that wants to eat his soul is some psycho shit he's just not ready to deal with.
It is the delicious tasty fucking irony that Oswald thinks Vengeance is this weird freak who doesn't play or bend to any rules and is here to fuck up everything, just like the madman who flooded the city, and thinks of himself in turn as a justifiable guy standing for the respectable old-fashioned empathetic way of doing things, instead of the exact same thing that Riddler and Batman are. Only Sofia gets what he really is, the same thing as her, and that's why she is the arch-enemy / the biggest thing he's gotta defeat in life for now.
God, how fucking PERFECT it is that he gets caught and tortured because he, after stabbing out a man's eye and causing him to get run over by a schoolbus, stops to wave at the kids in that schoolbus while covered in blood. Just the Rex Calabrese of it all, the self-image, this guy who's both a mean nasty son of a bitch and also a real bleeding heart softie and in ways that ruin his life and allow him to slip and wriggle his way out of shit he has no right to, as demonstrated by the finale.
Thinking about Sofia chastizing Oz saying he thinks she is a toy to play with, while rattling off the ways in which she owns him and everything he has, all the ridiculous little accessories her daddy let him play him, and he in turn is a ridiculous little accessory for the family she is twisting until it breaks. Perfect fucking villain for him. Can't wait to see how badly these two are gonna burn Gotham.
I knew deep in my heart that all I wanted out of a Penguin show, the thing that I simply needed to have in it, was Penguin pulling a heist set-up in advance, and it fucking delivered. He doesn't even complain at Victor for being late, because if anything, getting captured and tortured while the car crashed was even better for him. No, he complains at Victor for not being sufficiently gruesome with the body. See, unlike other cowardly anti-hero reinventions of Bat-villains, the show never wants you to forget that Oz is a weird freak and a disgusting piece of shit, even if he is a very likeable and even aspirational one. Only by the most random stroke of fate it wasn't Victor that he fed to the wolves at that moment, that he sees himself in the kid isn't exactly ensuring that he's gonna make out of this in one piece.
Mr. Vengeance gets Nirvana, and Mr. Boniface gets Dolly Parton, perfect credits.
In conclusion: Out of everything they could have done following the thunderous success of The Batman and it's ensuing influence over the DCU, out of all the offers Reeves must have gotten to helm their new universe after delivering a megahit reinvention of their breadwinner blockbuster character, Matt Reeves went "Nah, I listened to my crew, and what we really want to do is 8 hours of television about the waddling freak who's in my movie for 10 minutes", and he and his crew deserve the world for that. I dreamed as a kid of getting to make a big Penguin story or show, a wild impossible idea that would never actually happen, and now it's here and it's better than anything I'd ever imagined.
I'm fit to burst with joy and riding a high of no longer having to hunt for scraps and washing away decades of put-downs for the character and enjoying a Penguin renaissance like one I never imagined happening. I am extremely not an unbiased reviewer here, this show rules and I've waited for it since I was a kid and it's here, drink it the fuck in cause it's only the beginning.
58 notes
·
View notes
PROLOGUE
“even when it’s bad, i love you”
pairing — trentxblack!girl
genre — angst, angst and more angst
word count — 1.8k (for prologue)
summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?
an — i’ve been so excited for this series! it was on my old blog but i never got to start it out. i’m so happy to finally post it! let me know if anyone is interested in a taglist <3
masterlist
he morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. y/n lay beside trent, listening to the sound of his breathing, steady and familiar. she shifted slightly, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid between them. even in sleep, there was a tension in his body, a distance that had grown wider with each passing day.
trent stirred, his eyes fluttering open. he turned his head to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
y/n forced a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “morning,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—something more than just the usual stress of their lives.
trent reached out, brushing a strand of hair that fell out of her stain scarf from her face. “you okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes. “you’ve been quiet lately.”
she hesitated, wanting to tell him everything that was on her mind—the worry, the fear, the uncertainty that had taken root in her heart. but the words caught in her throat, and instead, she just nodded. “i’m fine,” she lied, the weight of her own doubts pressing down on her.
trent studied her for a moment longer, his brow furrowing slightly. he could see through her facade, but he didn’t push. “you sure?” he asked again, his hand lingering on her cheek.
she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth and familiarity of him. “yeah,” she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “i’m just tired.”
trent sighed, his own exhaustion seeping into his voice. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on her cheek. “maybe you should see a doctor, get checked out.”
y/n swallowed, the knot in her stomach tightening. she hadn’t told him about the nausea, the way she had been waking up every morning with a churning stomach and a feeling of dread. “i’ll be okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “i just need some rest.”
trent didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded, not wanting to press her further. “if you’re sure,” he said, his voice laced with concern. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “i’m heading to training in a bit. you want me to pick you up from work on the way back?”
y/n shook her head, the weight of her secret growing heavier with each passing second. “no, i’m good,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “i called in sick today. i just... i don’t feel well.”
trent’s eyes darkened with worry. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he repeated, his hand slipping from her cheek to her hand, squeezing gently. “if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow, promise me you’ll go to the doctor.”
she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. trent searched her face for a moment longer, then leaned in to kiss her softly. “take care of yourself, yeah?” he whispered against her lips before pulling away.
trent didn't say much more of how she was feeling because he was already deep in his own head. his mind was a maze of doubts, insecurities, and the weight of expectations that had been pressing down on him for weeks. as he pulled on his training gear, his thoughts were a tangled mess of worries about his performance, his place in the team, and the gnawing feeling that he wasn’t enough—not for his teammates, not for the fans, and maybe, just maybe, not even for her.
y/n watched him get out of bed and start getting ready, her heart aching with a mix of love and fear. she could see the lines of stress etched into his face, the weariness in his movements. he had been carrying so much on his shoulders, and she knew how much he doubted himself, how much he questioned his worth, even though he would never admit it.
but he couldn’t say any of that, not when he knew how much y/n was already dealing with. so he kept quiet, hoping that his silence would protect her from the storm raging inside him. he didn’t ask why she’d been so quiet lately, or why she’d been sick so often. instead, he just leaned down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there a moment longer than usual, as if trying to pour all the words he couldn’t say into that one gesture. he paused, to look at her, his eyes softening. “i love you,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.
trent’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press another kiss to her forehead. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “more than anything.”
“take care of yourself, yeah?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with an edge of desperation. he didn’t look back at her as he left the room, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the stillness.
but as he pulled away, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that love might not be enough to bridge the growing distance between them. she watched him leave, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the silence of the room.
the quiet settled over her like a blanket, suffocating in its intensity. y/n lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. the nausea that had plagued her for days returned with a vengeance, and she curled up on her side, clutching her stomach as if that could somehow ward off the dread that had taken root inside her
as soon as he was gone, y/n curled up tighter on the bed, the emptiness beside her feeling more pronounced than ever. she had seen the way his eyes had darkened with worry, had felt the tension in his body when he kissed her. but she couldn’t bring herself to voice her fears, not when he was already carrying so much. instead, she buried her face in the pillow, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.
after a while, she forced herself to get up, her body moving on autopilot as she reached for her phone. her hands trembled as she dialed the familiar number, and when her mom’s voice came through the line, warm and comforting, y/n felt the floodgates open.
“mum,” she said, her voice strained and broken. “i don’t feel right. i’ve been sick every morning for a while now, and... and trent’s been so distant. i don’t know what to do.”
her mom’s voice was like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her anxiety. “oh, sweetheart, that sounds awful. have you been under a lot of stress lately? sometimes that can make you feel sick.”
“i guess,” y/n replied, though the words felt hollow. “but it’s more than that. something just feels... off. i can’t explain it, but i know something’s wrong.”
there was a pause on the other end of the line, and y/n could almost hear the gears turning in her mum’s mind. “y/n, when was the last time you had your period?”
the question hit her like a freight train. she froze, her mind racing as she tried to remember. she hadn’t even thought about it, too wrapped up in everything else—the tension with trent, the constant nausea, the overwhelming sense of something being wrong. but now that her mom mentioned it, she realized it had been a while—too long. panic began to set in, her heart pounding in her chest.
“i... i don’t know,” she whispered, her hand unconsciously resting on her stomach. “mum, do you think...?”
“it’s possible,” her mom said gently. “why don’t you go get a test, just to be sure?”
“no,” y/n said quickly, the word spilling out in a rush. “i mean, i’m not ready for that. trent and i... we’re not ready for kids. we talked about it, but it was always something in the future, not now.”
her mom’s voice was soft, soothing. “i understand, honey. but it’s better to know. and if it’s positive, we’ll figure it out together. you won’t be alone in this.”
y/n’s mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears that threatened to consume her. “but what if i’m not ready?” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her doubts. “what if i can’t do this? i’m too young, mom. i don’t know how to be a mom. what if i’m not good enough?”
“oh, sweetheart,” her mom’s voice was thick with emotion. “no one ever feels ready. but you are strong, and you are capable. if you’re pregnant, then this baby is already so loved, just by being a part of you. and you have trent, and you have me and your dad. you’re not alone in this, y/n. you can do this, one step at a time.”
y/n’s tears flowed freely now, her chest tight with a mix of fear and love. she clung to her mom’s words, letting them anchor her in the storm that raged inside her. “i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“it’s okay to be scared,” her mom reassured her. “but you’re not alone, y/n. you have so many people who love you and will support you, no matter what happens.”
after a lot of convincing and a few more reassurances, y/n found herself at the pharmacy, staring at the rows of pregnancy tests. it felt surreal, like she was watching someone else’s life unfold. her hands shook slightly as she picked up a box, paid for it, and headed back home, her mind numb with fear and uncertainty.
the next hour was a blur. y/n sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the test in her hand, waiting for the timer to go off. the minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. her mind raced with thoughts of what this could mean—how it would change everything, how it might push trent even further away.
when the timer finally beeped, y/n took a deep breath and looked down at the result. two lines. pregnant.
her world tilted on its axis, and she felt like she was drowning. tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, she was crying—deep, heaving sobs that shook her entire body. it wasn’t that she didn’t want children. she did, but not like this, not now. she felt too young, too unprepared for the responsibility that was suddenly thrust upon her.
y/n tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths and reminding herself that trent would be there for her. he loved her, and they had built a life together. but as she sat there, alone in their bathroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and not for the better. she clutched the test to her chest, her tears soaking into the fabric of her shirt . the only through running through her mind was one question, “what am i going to do?”
© PDRIESTA 2024
40 notes
·
View notes