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ducavalentinos · 3 years

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Do we know anything about Cesare's mistresses? Who they were and how he treated them? Or if he was close to any of his illegitimate children? Do you think his affair with Sancia really happened?

We know some things, anon, but sadly not enough, and why we don't is a question that carries various possible reasons for it, which I won't get into here because I don't want to go off on a tangent 👀 but even with the limited information, we can conclude the women in Cesare's life were pretty interesting and cool ladies, and I'm just so glad you sent this ask because it gives me the opportunity to talk about them more, and also share what I have learned over the years about these themes of Cesare’s life, I’m sure I’ll probably forget something lol, but if that happens I’ll post it later here. I’ll divide it by categories of long-term mistresses and possible mistresses and women associated with Cesare. How I defined these categories are by my personal understanding between short affairs versus long-term relationships(more than one year), where children were most likely produced and acknowledged or legitimized by the father in some form, as well as differentiating between documents and information, what is more certain, and what is more dubious, what is documented and what is gossip and so on, following what is known, or can hinted about Cesare’s relationship with his mistresses, and his illegitimate children. Long-Term Mistresses: Drusilla: There is almost nothing about her, not even her real name since Drusilla is only a codename used to preserve her real identity. She was one of the ladies-in-waiting of Cesare's sister, Lucrezia, and we can assume she was a noblewoman from a minor house. It seems she became Cesare's mistress around 1497, and if we combine this information with the information of her departure to Ferrara with Lucrezia in 1502, and how Cesare was incredibly sad about it, this suggests not only a strong attachment, but that they seemed to have remained in a relationship from 1497 to 1502, and that would put her as the best candidate as the mother of Cesare's illegitimate children. Sacerdote writes the following about the relationship:

"...Drusilla, Lucrezia's lady-in-waiting, that afterwards follows her to Ferrara, perhaps was the mother of Cesare's two illegimate children. And her love with Cesare was so well known that the poet Fausto Evangelista Maddaleni, among his many Latin epigrams, also composed one “on the sadness of Cesare for the departure of Lucrezia Borgia and Drusilla”. Cesare dresses in mourning for the departure of Lucrezia and Drusilla: non tamen una abiit, simul heu Drusilla recessit. And Cesare calms his pain with tears."

A Sicilian woman is recorded as living with Cesare in Rome in 1498, she is said to have come back with him from his trip to Naples the previous year. Author José C. Deus makes an interesting questioning if this woman could not be the Spaniard-Neapolitan María Díaz-Garlón (more about her below). In any case, whether this was Garlón or a completely different woman, here we have another good candidate for the mother of Cesare’s illegitimate children. A woman who shared imprisonment with him in Naples, in 1504: The reason I put her here in this list is because according to Sacerdote this woman was not a courtesan, she was a true mistress Cesare had, and given he was pretty occupied during the first months of 1503, and how all hell broke loose after August for him, and that you simply do not request to share imprisonment with someone you just met recently, I find very hard to imagine Cesare met her in 1503 or 1504, I mean, it is possible, sure, people do meet and fall in love during terrible times, too, but I’m more inclined to think they likely met in 1501 or 1502, and this woman might very well be the mother of Girolamo or Camilla Lucrezia. She clearly was someone Cesare seems to have trusted and wanted by his side, no matter what, and there is definitely a sense of loyalty and deep affection on her part. The fact her name isn’t recorded, not even a codename as in the case of Drusilla is very intriguing. It might imply she wasn’t a noblewoman, I often think if she might not have been the same woman from Bologna who is recored as workng at Cesare’s chancery in 1501, or if she was from an even more obscure, minor noble house, and/or there was a real effort on her part, or on Cesare's part, or maybe both of them, to keep their relationship as off the record as they could. Possible Mistresses/Women associated with him: Fiammetta da Michelis: She was born in Florence, probably in 1465, her family left for Rome in 1478, and in Rome she became a "cortigiana onesta/a honest courtesan**, she was the mistress of cardinal Ammannati Piccolomini, and when he passed away in 1479, a commission of four prelates set up by Pope Sixtus IV, gave her some propriety which belonged to the late cardinal, those being: a vineyard near the Vatican, and three houses. One of these houses, the one which still stands today at the Via dei Coronari, near Piazza Navona and Piazza Fiammetta, named after Fiammetta herself, is sometimes claimed to have been a gift from Cesare, but after reading more about this, I don't think this is correct, at least I never found anything to supported it, it's more certain this house was included in the testament left by Cardinal Ammannati Piccolomini, and given to her by Pope Sixtus. It's uncertain when she and Cesare met, some put the date of 1493, others a bit later, and it is equally uncertain what was the nature of their relationship, again many do claim her to have been one of his mistresses, but the evidence is ambiguous, which it's why I hesitated in putting her in the first category, we don't know if she was truly his mistress, or simply his favorite courtesan. Sometimes these two were combined, sometimes they were separate things. It's possible she was his mistress, but it's also possible she was only his favorite courtesan whose company he enjoyed and/or had under his service to gather information for him about other men (idk why that's never considered djsjdjs), whatever the case, it is clear they had a good relationship and were close, because even by the time of her death, 1512, Fiammetta still signed herself as Fiammetta Ducis Valentini (of the Duke Valentino), and the heading of her will in the city archives was Flammettae Ducis Valentini Testamenti Transumptum. María Díaz-Garlón: daughter of Ferrante Díaz Garlón and Violante Grappina. It’s recorded that Cesare fell in love with her during his stay at Naples, and he spent 20.000 ducats just to win her favor. I believe it is possible she might have been the same Sicilian woman mentioned above, who came back with Cesare from Naples, and was living with him in Rome given the approximate dates, but if not, then it’s likely nothing happen or that they had an affair which ended with Cesare’s departure from Naples. Bianca Lucia Stanga: She was a Milanese noblewoman who caused a bit of scandal at the court of Milan with her ways. In 1497 Vincenzo Calmeta complained that she “has taken up fencing, dancing the gagliarda, carrying a dagger, wearing a cape like a braggart or gallant, and other doings which the female sex must not only avoid but abhor.” She is also said to have been quite arrogant, thinking of herself as “the most universal woman in the world / la più universal donna del mondo...” (hence my blog title! <3), Cesare most likely met her at Milan, and contrary to Calmeta and others, he didn’t mind any of that, what we know it’s that he was quite taken with her, to the point of wanting to bring her along with him to the Romagna, and he requested so to the Milanese it seems, but we don’t know what happened there, and if she was indeed a mistress, or someone he flirted with, or had a quick affair. Cleofe Marescotti: She was Bolognese noblewoman, daughter of Giascone Marescotti, an elder, noble Bolognese senator. Cleofe was commonly called “Bella Bolognese” and she was known for her “elegance, refinement, as well as for a charge of excessive sensuality”. She was also accustomed to the rich and cultured air of Bologna, so when she married the patrician Cesenati Roberto Bencino, and moved to Cesena, during the years of Cesare’s government there, she introduced all of that to the city, within the noble circles, and she quickly became “the arbiter elegantiarum (arbiter of elegance) of the Borgian era”. Again, it’s uncertain when she and Cesare met, they might have met in 1502, at the very night where it is recorded Cleofe’s husband threw a banquet in Cesare’s honor, with Cesare and Cleofe being said to have danced together more than one time. A cronicler from Cesena, Zazzera, says of this event that Cesare was “assai invaghito /very enamored” with Cleofe, and it appears his feelings were corresponded. Or maybe they met before that, Cesare did spend a lot of time in Cesena, it was his beloved city and the one he wanted to make into the capital of his duchy in the Romagna. But just as with Fiammetta and Bianca, we don’t know if Cleofe was a mistress, or if they only flirted, or it was a quick affair, it is possible since Cleofe is said to have had lovers and apparently her husband didn’t seem to mind it, but in any case I don’t think there is enough evidence to claim her as a mistress. Sancia d’Aragona: She was the illegitimate daughter of King Alfonso II of Naples and his mistress Trogia Gazzela, born in 1478. She was first engaged with Onorato Gaetani, but when the threat of the French King Charles VIII loomed over the Aragonese dynasty, this marriage was dissolved and she was married to Goffredo/Gioffre Borgia. From everything I’ve read about Sancia, unlike Lucrezia or Giulia Farnese or other women of her time, she comes across as a woman with little tact or diplomacy with others. She had a strong temper, and she seems to have been very accostumed in getting her way, so when she didn’t, when something wasn’t to her liking, she wasn’t very subtle about it and she could be openly confrontational, which made the living together between her, her husband and her father-in-law, pope Alexander VI, difficult at times. Equally, she does not seem to have been as politically cunning as the women mentioned were. There is nothing, I’ve found, suggesting she had an active interest in politics, or was good at it. She seems to have been far more interested in enjoying life, and she did just that, she was a lively woman, and it’s not hard to see why she got along so well with the Borgia family, especially with Lucrezia and Cesare. She is known for saying: “Non c'è cavaliere italiano senza pugnale, come non c'è nobildonna italiana senza amanti / There is no Italian nobleman without a dagger, just as there is not Italian noblewoman without lovers.” And indeed she had her list of lovers which included men like Ippolito d’Este, Francesco Colonna, and of course Juan and Cesare Borgia, which gets to your question about the affair between her and Cesare. I mean, I think their supposed affair has more of a historical basis than the supposed affair between her and Juan, there is nothing to support she was Juan’s lover, or that he and Cesare shared her, that’s titillating gossip, and it’s usually used as another motive to give credence to the baseless fratricide accusation against Cesare. What the historical evidence indicates is that Sancia had a good relationship with Cesare, she is noted as being bold with him, meaning she spoke with him with a familiarity few people outside his family circle did. Cappello iirc writes of her being the only one who did not feared Cesare in Rome, but of course in his mind Cesare was a terrible monster, and it seems he projected his dislike and his own fear of Cesare into everyone else, from Rodrigo to Lucrezia, when there is nothing supporting that or most of the things he says about Cesare. But it is interesting to observe Sancia, as far as we know, never displayed any kind of fear or unfriendliness towards Cesare, which seriously further puts into doubt if her brother Alfonso d'Aragona was 1) murdered and 2) if Cesare truly had anything to do with it, because it does not seem to have changed her relationship with him at all, in fact, there are records stating she would often dine with Rodrigo and Cesare at the Vatican, and personally I don't think Sancia was the kind of woman who would just casually dine with her brother's murderer as if nothing had happened, so either she didn't believe Cesare to be the guilty one, or he truly wasn't the guilty one, we will never know. There is also an anecdote saying Ippolito d’Este fled Rome in 1502 because of his affair with Sancia, which apparently Cesare had a problem with, but it’s hard to know if he had a problem because he was jealous of Sancia, or if he was simply trying to avoid scandal in his family, or trying to avoid violence between d’Este and Gioffre, given the Borgia-D’Este alliance. And finally in 1504, when Cesare arrives at Naples, it is recorded Sancia was the first person he visited, and that she received him (again hardly the behavior of someone who believes the other to have been her brother's murderer). At the time she was separated from Gioffre and living by herself at her palazzo, author Chamberlin imaginatively says “the fascination Cesare held for Sancia seems to have been undimished by his recent troubles”, maybe so, I don’t think it would be far-fetched to say they probably held a mutual fascination for each other that never severed, but it appears Cesare when he went to visit her then was also playing the marriage counselor between her and his brother Gioffre, trying to reconcile them back together. So, what to make of all this? does all this means they were lovers? not necessarily, there is enough to speculate an affair, but not enough to affirm it. What often comes to my mind it's the possibility their affinity with each other, their closeness might have been maliciously interpreted or exaggerated by some, much in the same way the Borgia family's closeness with one another was maliciously intepreted as incest, as a way of attacking their reputation. All it can be said with certainty about Sancia and Cesare is that they seemed to have had a kind of friendship which lasted until the end. If they were or not romantically involved is something only they could say, I think both scenarios are possible. Dorotea Malatesta: She was born in Rimini on April 26, 1478, she was the illegitimate daughter Roberto Malatesta with a mistress, generally speculated to have been a Mantuan noblewoman who probably belonged to the Da Crema family. Dorotea was raised at the court of Urbino, and she was praised by her contemporaries for her beauty. In 1500, she was married to the Neapolitan nobleman and condottiero Giovanni Battista Caracciolo, who was 30 years her senior. The marriage was celebrated at Urbino, and there are different accounts of their marriage, some sources say she married Caracciolo by proxy at Urbino, and she was going to Venice to meet him when the so-called abduction happened, but other sources claim Caracciolo was at Urbino in 1499, where he met Dorotea, and in 1500 the marriage took place. Following this source, a few months after that Caracciolo was stationed to Gradisca, in defense of a possible attack from the Turks, Dorotea doesn't accompany him, deciding to stay at the court of Urbino. Only at February 1501, at the request of Caracciolo, is a trip arranged to take her to him at Venice. Dorotea is often associated with Cesare, as being his mistress, or more incorrectly claimed as his victim, however, a caveat has to be made here, while it doesn’t look Dorotea was the victim of an abduction, (her case when analysed honestly looks like one of those cases which had been misjudged and lumped together with other real abductions that were common in these times, when in reality it was an elopment of lovers, also common then), it is unclear with whom Dorotea had an affair with: Cesare or Diego Ramires? all the evidence available heavily points to the conclusion she eloped with her lover rather than dutifully going to a husband she really didn’t seem to care for (we can’t know, but it seems the marriage was imposed on her, because everything there is about her relationship with Caracciolo shows a coldness, a dislike, an indifference on her part to him, while he seemed to have been crazy about her, almost pathetically so), but the evidence becomes more ambiguous when it comes to the identity of the lover, It's possible the lover was Cesare, but it's equally possible the lover was Ramires, and Cesare only covered for their affair. So now closing this caveat, and for completeness’ sake going with the hypothesis Cesare was the lover here, he and Dorotea must have met at the court of Urbino, and the fate of her father's side of the family could be speculated to have been the reason that brought them together, with Dorotea perhaps approaching Cesare to speak on her brother's behalf and the interests of her family. A little detail which it's oddly never connected it's that 1500 is the year Cesare took Rimini and Cesena from Pandolfo IV Malatesta, Dorotea's half-brother, and between the years of 1500 and 1501, he is recorded as making at least three trips to Urbino. And if we consider the lenience Cesare shows to Pandolfo (which even surprised Pandolfo himself lol), by giving a safe-conduct to him and his family, and by letting him keep some of his possessions, which while it's true it was characteristic of Cesare and how he treated the other lords of the Romagna as well, still it's possible to say Dorotea might have played a role here, and been an additional motive for Cesare's clemency with the Malatesta, and between their conversations about this, a courting might have taken place, and that led to their affair (and perhaps was also one of the reasons behind Dorotea not wanting to leave the court of Urbino) and in February 1501, when her husband firmly requests her presence by his side, the scandal of the so-called abduction happens. Some time later, there was gossip of her being seen by Cesare’s side, travelling through the Romagna with him, and then being with him Rome in 1503, but we don’t know how accurate this information is. If all of this is correct, if Dorotea was truly Cesare’s mistress and not Ramires’s, given the length of her “disappearance”, about two years, it would put her as a long-term mistress, alongside Drusilla. Also a good candidate for being the mother of Cesare’s illegitimate children, as well as someone he plainly seemed to have had strong feelings for, the claim that Cesare and Dorotea’s relationship, if they really had one, was not a romantic one is quite absurd to me (more on that below). Going back to Dorotea a bit more, by her actions and what can be known about her, and if you’ve read about the Malatesta (which I would highly recommend because they are such an awesome and interesting family to read about) she shows herself to have inherited more than a few of the characteristic traits of her father’s side of the family. The Malatesta, both men and women, at least the most famous ones, all share in common a strong personality: they tended to be passionate, determined, stubborn, and very entitled individuals. They didn't cared much about creating scandal, as long as they got what they wanted, and also were not keen on disclosing or explaining their actions to anyone, not even the Pope djsjdsjd, they had a haughty attitude about them. I think Dorotea checks all of these boxes, she seems to have been a passionate, determined, a bit haughty, and stubborn young woman. In my view, she went hell no in being with a husband she didn’t liked, eloped with her lover instead, stayed with him for two years, after that was over she refused in giving any details about her whereabouts during these two years she went “missing”, and in a rather persistent, stubborn way, she did everything she could to avoid going back to her husband. She only went back to him because he insisted, and I mean really insisted with the Senate of Venice in getting her back, and eventually she basically ran out of excuses to oppose her return to him, but it is noted she did so unenthusiastically 😂. Now, about Cesare's treatment of them, we can mostly just speculate because there isn’t much to make certain conclusions. I think the notable absence of historical records mentioning cruelty or violence on Cesare’s part to his mistress, or the women around him in general, not even at the height of his political career and power, when his life was even more closely watched and remarked upon by those around him, esp. his enemies, is a good indication to me he treated them well. Otherwise we would have something about it, it would have been documented, as it is in the case of some of the Malatesta men, or the Bentivoglio and others of Cesare's time. It's actually one of the most bizarre points about Cesare's historical literature I'd say, which I know I have talked about it before and I know I sound like a broken record, but it really does baffles me, this idea he was the worst with women, that he lacked respect or affection for them, when all the historical material which his own biographers present from time to time in their works while simultaneously making these claims, shows the very opposite. That he had a good relationship with the women in his life, he didn't had a problem with them. All of his problems consistently seemed to have come from his own sex, from the men around him. He doesn't come across as being insensitive, disrespectful, or a brute to them, he might had his flaws, as any human being, and his "vices", but being cruel or violent towards women doesn't look like it was a particular vice he had, (just as with him not being of a sadistic, bloodthirsty nature, although fiction loves to add that to their fictional portrayals of him) at least there is nothing substantial, or fact-based about it, so it does seem this is another historical fabrication, based on shady info and personal assumptions, which took off perhaps in the 1900s, because prior to that I don't see this trend in the writings about Cesare, and it is a random and strange one, too. By everything I've read, I think Cesare was much like his father in how he treated his mistresses, with the exception he might have been more overly generous with them in matter of gifts and such, in a way Rodrigo was not, like Rodrigo had a generous nature, but I think it's kind of undeniable Cesare was on a whole new level. I think there is enough info which hints both men were overall responsible, doting, pleasant and protective lovers. Once they really liked a woman, they were capable of genuine, strong emotions, and they did took care of them, and the offspring which resulted from their relations with them. Quick examples of that can be seen in how both Rodrigo and Cesare were sensitive in the matter of wanting to preserve the reputation of the woman they had a relationship with it. It might be one of the reasons why we don’t know much about them, but also why in the legitimization and other documents of their children, at the mother’s name it’s only said she was a single/married woman, no identity, which helped in preserving her reputation. And if we consider Dorotea was Cesare's mistress, and the information is correct and she was with him in Rome when it all went to hell, something quite interesting comes to light here, and we might have a more clear view of Cesare’s responsibility and protectiveness towards women close to him: Dorotea is said to have been included in the group of women of his family whom he made sure to sent to Castel Sant'Angelo for protection, where he later followed up himself with the children (Bellonci makes a baseless claim that he sent both Sancia and Dorotea as prisoners, but that's just her bias talking louder and it's incorrect, all the Borgia women, including his own mother, were sent to Castel Sant'Angelo to avoid the reprisals of the Orsini and the Colonna who were calling out for Borgia blood and killing any Spaniard they found). He didn't need to do that. Many men wouldn't have, they would have simply ordered their men to sent Dorotea back to her husband and best of luck to her. They had fun and it was good while it lasted, but bye now, nothing to do with him, one less problem on his list, that's for sure. But we don’t see Cesare doing that, if Dorotea was truly with him, the fact he kept her by his side even when it was incredibly stupid and disadvantageous for him to do so, given her presence just added more salt to the wound between him and Venice, something he didn’t need at that moment at all, highly implies he cared about her and her safety, which further denies the popular claim Dorotea was simply a whim of his, or like his sex toy, and that there was nothing romantic about their affair. It's a claim that really defies logic when you think about it, especially when also following usual descriptions about Cesare's character which they throw around in their narratives. Finally, when it comes to his illegitimate children, I tend to think Cesare, just like Rodrigo, and other noblemen, certainly had other illegitimate children we never heard about, because they only legitimized or took responsibility for the children they absolutely were certain of their paternity + with women they had a long relationship and/or an emotional bond with. So just by the recordings of Girolamo and Camilla Lucrezia in connection to Cesare being their father, how it looks he brought them into his family, how they were taken care of (in their education and their well-being) is in itself, for me, is a hint of sentiment, of closeness to these children and their mother on his part. But other than that, we can’t know how close he was with them, we can assume they were with him in the Romagna, so he did spend time with them, only these moments were one of those moments which happened within his private life and circle, therefore we don’t have any anecdotes of it. There is also the matter of their ages, if their birth dates are correct, Girolamo’s date of birth is put as 1501 and Camilla Lucrezia 1502, they were infants when Cesare was around, which limited things a bit. If we consider Giovanni aka Infans Romanus to also have been his child, and that he was born in 1498, then he might have been the child with whom Cesare had most contact with, and perhaps was closest with, too. Sacerdote writes that Cesare “...always had been lovingly interested in the Infans Romanus…” and in Rome 1503, like I said above, there is one mentioning of the Borgia children being with him. He was seen leading two children by hand to the Castel Sant’Angelo to escape the Orsini who were after them:

“He [Burchard] speaks of due infantibus, two children, who were with Cesare; then he says his daughters were also taken to the castle (Castel Sant’ Angelo). From other news it would appear that he had with him the Infant Romnaus Giovanni Borgia, Duke of Nepi, and the baby Rodrigo, son of Lucrezia Borgia and Alfonso. Most likely he had with him these two infants, who were in fact entrusted to his tutelage, and then his sons (or his daughters) were also sent to the Castle.”

**A honest courtesan was a woman who was usually well-educated and worldly (sometimes even more so than the average upper-class woman), and often held simultaneous careers as performers or artists. They were typically chosen on the basis of their "breeding"—social and conversational skills, intelligence, common-sense, and companionship—as well as their physical attributes. It was usually their wit and personality that set them apart from regular women. Sex constituted only a facet of the courtesan's array of services. For example, they were well-dressed and ready to engage and participate in a variety of topics ranging from art to music to politics. (x) Sources: Gustavo Sacerdote, Cesare Borgia: la sua vita, la sua famiglia, i suoi tempi. José Catalán Deus, El Príncipe del Renacimiento: Vida y Leyenda de César Borgia. Le Vite dei Cesenati Vol. III, Michele Andrea Pistocchi. B. Baroni, Le donne di casa Malatesti

#ask answered #anon ask #cesare borgia #house borgia in history #women in history #i really like bianca #(i liked how she created controversary at the court of milan and cesare was like: yeah i like her! djsdjdjsjdsjd my man <3)#but cleofe represents beautifully the idea of the renaissance/romagnese noblewoman i adore and wish i could have been *cries*#but you know they are all great #like i said before cesare had good taste in women #and i'm proud

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prentissinred · 3 years

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Life in Pink

Rated T (mild suggestive content) Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss Word Count: 2.5k AO3

Hi friends! Guess what? This past weekend marked one year since I posted my first story! How crazy is that?!

I’m so utterly grateful to this community for being such a bright spot in a difficult year. To everyone who’s taken the time to read something I’ve written, thank you for being so kind and supportive. It means more to me than I can express in words. To the brilliant, lovely, talented people I now get to call my friends, I love you all so very much.

To commemorate the occasion, I wrote a little something. This is set in the world of The Wonder of You, which was the first story I’ve ever written – but you don't need to have read that to understand this :)

I hope you like it <3

“I mean it, JJ. Whatever happens, do not call us.”

“Yes, Emily. For the hundredth time, I promise not to call you.”

Aaron slipped his free hand into his wife’s and squeezed. “Sweetheart, it’ll be fine. Strauss knows we’re away, and our backlog is miraculously clear. We’ll be okay.”

He returned to packing up his things on his desk while Emily huffed and quietly muttered something unflattering about their superior under her breath. JJ chuckled and embraced her friend. “Go. Have a fabulous time and make us all incredibly jealous. We’ll see you in a week.”

After another round of goodbyes and poorly-veiled suggestive comments from Morgan and Dave, Aaron and Emily were in their car and on their way to Dulles, suitcases already packed and in the trunk.

It had been her idea. A holiday in Greece to commemorate their first wedding anniversary. There hadn’t been time to plan a honeymoon, their wedding in Dave’s backyard coming together with relative expediency. They had spent the weekend after the ceremony in a hotel, indulging in champagne and room service for 48 hours before returning to work the following Monday.

Neither of them thought much of it after that, swept up in both work and newlywed life. They moved into a new home, a classic Colonial in Arlington with extra bedrooms and a white wrap-around porch, and adopted a dog at Jack’s insistence.

And before either of them had realized it, it had been a year. Aaron had remembered the upcoming date over Saturday breakfast as he cut bacon into little pieces for Jack, which were then promptly fed to Boo who waited patiently under the table next to Jack’s chair. Emily and Aaron shared a look of bemused surprise as they came to the realization that neither of them had planned anything to celebrate the occasion.

“We could take a trip,” Emily suggested casually. “We haven’t been away before, just the two of us.”

He’d been doubtful at first, unsure if they could really manage to get the time away with such short notice. But it was clear how enthused Emily was by the prospect, though she hid it well under masked nonchalance. Though she always insisted she was more than happy to spend her time at home, appreciative of the roots they had cultivated after all the travel and displacement of her past, Aaron knew there was still a part of her that missed that heady thrill of exploring an unfamiliar place for the first time. And truthfully, he could think of little else that he would enjoy more than having his wife all to himself for a few days.

So they settled on Greece, a place new to them both, and, with some luck, managed to clear a full week on both of their calendars.

They had nearly reached the parking lot at Dulles — having already checked in with Jessica, Jack and Boo over the phone — when Emily’s phone pinged with a text message from JJ, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

Before Aaron could question her, his phone rang, Chief Strauss’s number on the front screen. Panic flashed across both their faces before he reluctantly answered. Emily could hear brief snippets of the conversation as the pit in her stomach steadily widened.

“...apologize...New York...fourth suicide bomber in three weeks...escalating...need everyone…”

Once he hung up the phone, Aaron took the next exit off the highway, pulling up to the curb once it was safe to do so. They both sat in silence for an extended minute, disappointment heavy in the air. Finally, Emily attempted to break the tension, “Aren’t you glad I convinced you to get the refundable tickets?”

Aaron let out a weak, sad chuckle and leaned over the center console to kiss her, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” before starting the car up again to head to the airstrip.

When they walked onto the plane, the team was uncharacteristically silent, looking on at their boss and colleague with poorly concealed apology, as though they were personally at fault for this unfortunate turn of events.

It took five days for the case to come to an end, the team finding the next bomber with minutes to spare, leading them to the ringleader of the group orchestrating the attacks. The date of their anniversary came and went, with nothing to mark the day except a quickie in the shower before they left their shared room. Objectively, both Aaron and Emily knew they had made the right decision, compulsory or not. Lives were saved, and the team functioned at their best when they were a complete set.

Still, while Aaron wrapped things up at the precinct after sending Emily back to the hotel, he couldn’t help but feel sorry that the first year of his marriage had passed in such a benign manner. As he drove back to the hotel, watching people shuffle and hustle about their weekend, an inkling of a plan formed and he picked up the phone to call JJ.

He found Emily in their room, her back turned to him as she hunched over the bed in the final stages of packing. He leaned against the wall, taking a moment to admire her before asking, "What are you doing, sweetheart?"

She jumped a little, the close of the door too quiet for her to hear him walk in, then raised a brow at him. "Packing? Don't we have to be at the airport in an hour?"

"Change of plans." Aaron sauntered up to his wife, pulling her in by the waist so he could kiss her. "We're leaving tomorrow."

“Since when?”

"Since I decided that you and I deserve a night to ourselves." He chuckled softly at her confused expression, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry we couldn't get our time away. I thought we could spend the night out here instead. Celebrate the best year of my life with my beautiful wife."

She softened in his arms, molding herself to him as she pushed up on her toes and threaded her hands in his hair, kissing him breathless. “What about everyone else?” she asked, mouthing along his jaw, nosing the length of his neck.

The blood promptly rushed south from his head, a familiar occurrence anytime Emily’s hands ran over him as they were doing now. He swallowed, breathing in deeply to ensure he retained some semblance of control. "I told them to leave tonight; we could fly on our own tomorrow. But they offered to stay the night.”

She laughed against his throat, hot and ticklish on his skin, feeling almost giddy by this unforeseen development, “Okay then.” The hands on her hips tightened as she began kissing down to his chest, and she grinned up at him, lightly palming the front of his black slacks. “Are you sure you want to go out? We could just lock ourselves in here for the night.”

He narrowed his eyes, playfully pinching her cheek, “Cheeky, Mrs. Hotchner. But I have a plan and, tempting as you are, you will not sway me from it.” Knowing her go-bag always contained a nicer dress in case their work called for it, he added, “Now, get dressed,” swatting her ass lightly for good measure.

“Aaron, it’s Saturday night in New York City. You realize we’re not getting in anywhere halfway decent,” Emily pointed out while she unbuttoned her blouse.

“Ye of little faith, my dear wife. I told you, I have a plan.” Aaron also rid himself of his jacket and tie, replacing his shirt with a fresh white button-down and rolling up the sleeves. He went to clean himself up in the bathroom, and when he returned, he found his magnificent wife attempting to zip up a one-shoulder red dress. The same dress he’d slid off her shoulders in his bedroom after dinner on their first date. “Is that…”

"Would you believe I didn't plan this?" she grinned, turning her back to him. "Help me?"

Instead of doing as she asked, Aaron nudged the zipper, skating a knuckle up the length of her bare back and planting a kiss at the top of her spine.

“Aaron..." she breathed, tilting her head back against his, "if you don't cut that out, we're not leaving this room." He groaned into her neck, reluctantly admitting she was right, finally zipping her up and smoothing her hair back over her shoulder.

When they emerged outside their hotel ten minutes later onto the bustling streets of Midtown Manhattan, they walked the few blocks to Grand Central Station, just barely catching the subway headed downtown. Despite her initial doubts, Emily’s smile hadn’t left her, cheeks flushed with excitement.

Aaron led her by hand out of the subway when they reached their destination, climbing the stairs onto the southwest corner of Washington Square Park. The air was hot and muggy, New York in August, even as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon. Music filtered through from the park, mixing with the din of the crowds enjoying the first stage of their evening.

“Do I get to know what we’re doing now?”

“Not yet. Come on, this way.”

They crossed the street, turned the corner, and Aaron finally stopped outside a red awning.

“Pizza?” Emily looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise as she took in the pizzeria.

“Or hot dogs, or Indian, or Greek, Italian, Vietnamese...We can go anywhere you want in the world in the next 10 blocks.”

She beamed up at him, catching onto his plan, and her grin was infectious. “Can we do them all?”

He laughed, “Lead the way.”

They started with pizza at Joe’s — a pepperoni slice for him and a Sicilian slice for her. Then a stuffed pita filled to the brim with fresh falafel, tomatoes, and hummus. A chicken tikka kati roll. And finally a shared plate of chicken and rice drizzled in white sauce from the halal food cart next to the park.

Their hands never strayed far from the other, the blissful anonymity of the city prompting more affectionate displays from both of them. Aaron stood behind her, hands on her hips or around her waist, as they waited in line. Emily ran her fingers through his hair as they sat on barstools, so smushed together from the crowd that she was practically sitting in his lap. They stood on the sidewalk waiting for their food to be prepared, their arms wrapped around each other and their lips moving together in languid kisses as if they had all the time in the world. To any stranger who could be bothered to look their way, they looked like any other couple smitten and blissfully in love, hiding every scar, hurdle, and hardship they had overcome to reach this point. Two figures floating amongst a sea of millions.

“I’m so full,” Emily moaned, clutching her stomach dramatically as they wandered hand-in-hand down Houston St. “I think you’ve killed me.”

“Not yet, sweetheart. We haven’t gotten to dessert.”

Two spoons and one cup of salted chocolate ice cream later, they made it back to the park, still lively as if the night had only just started. The marble archway was lit up, the Empire State Building in the distance peeking through the gap. People sat around the edge of the fountain, dipping their feet into the cool water.

Aaron and Emily walked through the students and artists and skateboarders and tourists, dipping intermittently into their shared dessert absorbing the infectious energy. They reached the other end of the park, stopping for a moment to watch a street performer, and turned down a new street, neither of them wanting the evening to come to an end.

The unmistakable sound of a piano floated out of a bar as two patrons exited, catching Emily by surprise as they walked past. She jerked to a stop, captivated, then tugged Aaron's hand to the door. He followed her lead, descending down a narrow flight of stairs that led into a darkened lounge. Tufted couches and armchairs in jewel-toned velvets lined the walls, dimly lit by rounded art deco sconces. Two bartenders seamlessly crafted elegant cocktails behind a lavish bar that took up the back wall. And in the center, a jazz quartet illuminated by a spotlight as couples swayed around them on a dance floor. Even in the dark, Aaron could see the way Emily's eyes lit up, entranced by this unexpected discovery, and he discreetly asked a waitress if they could be seated.

They nestled into the corner of an empty couch, Aaron's hand resting on Emily's knee as they both sipped their respective cocktails. Truthfully, he spent very little time watching the band, his eyes trained on his wife. He took in every secret smile, every small part of her lips when the melody soared to a peak. She was breathtaking, and she was his, and not for the first time in his life did he wonder how he had ever gotten quite so lucky.

The song shifted into something he recognized, a string of notes from the saxophone eliciting an audible gasp from Emily. He grasped her hand and tugged her up from the chair, smiling at the delight on her face. He pulled her in close, one hand low on her back, his cheek resting against hers, as they began to gently shift amongst the other couples.

After a minute, Emily’s voice came in whispers in his ear, her tongue curling beautifully over the French he couldn’t understand.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie

She pulled back in his arms, her gaze locking on his. A droplet tipped over her lash and onto her cheek. Her love for the man who held her — her husband, hers — bubbled and popped and diffused in her chest, filling her until she felt like she was floating. Aaron brought his hand up from her waist to her cheek, his thumb wiping away the errant drop on her skin with enough tenderness and adoration to warrant a fresh bout of tears.

Emily shakily rose to press her lips to his, tightening her hold of him, just as the song trailed to its conclusion. Applause erupted, but at that moment, the world around them didn’t exist.

“I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

“And I love you.”

Song: La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf

Translation (thank you Google):

When he holds me in his arms He speaks to me softly I see life through rose-colored glasses

He speaks words of love to me Everyday words And that does something to me

He has entered into my heart A piece of happiness The cause of which I know It’s only him for me, and me for him, for life He said that to me, swore it forever

#im missing new york something terrible #also Aaron is a massive simp for his wife #and ps if anyone ever feels like taking me out this is what i would like please and thank you #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchner x prentiss

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anthrofreshtodeath · 2 years

Text

#21 - "You're Up Early" and #13 Secret - Pyrite

@swishybats also requested some Pyrite prompts, and I combined the two of them together. This one is kinda sad.

Jane and Maura left the precinct together, much to Frankie and Korsak’s surprise. SolCorp was three weeks ago - they hadn’t so much as spoken to one another since Jane had moved her things into her new apartment, about a seven minute walk from headquarters.

So, Jane knew how it looked. It looked like reconciliation. And maybe, in a small way, it was: Maura had spoken to her at her desk one day, as if she had resisted but was ultimately overcome by some sinister, foul force in the way she had spit out I need to see your apartment, if I’ll be sending Elena there.

At least, Jane had thought as she sat, flabbergasted and silent, Maura was speaking.

So, they planned on a date. The date arrived, and instead of following Jane, Maura suggested that Jane get in the car, and leave the unmarked where it belonged - at BPD. She could walk to work in the morning. Jane would have agreed to anything to spend time with Maura, so of course she agreed to that.

She sat quiet on the short ride to her new home, wanting so badly to speak but knowing that Maura would not want to hear it. Jane had never said less in her life. Perhaps it was a lesson Maura longed to impart, along with the many others that she sent Jane’s way in the recent weeks.

“It’s on the third floor,” Jane said when they parked. Maura didn’t reply, she just followed when Jane unlocked the front door and then led them to the stairs. The hardwood creaked with its age, though it had been maintained well. The halls were clean, and Maura recognized Jane’s old welcome mat instantly when they approached apartment 21. The anagram of 12, Jane’s condo number, a symbol of all the reversals in their life.

Jane held the door open, and the scent of Sicilian lemon accosted Maura with its familiarity. Jane locked the deadbolt behind them, and sighed. “Pretty plain,” she explained. The short front hall led to the kitchen on the right, and a small dining room on the left. Both were clean, but unadorned. Jane had taken her small table out of storage, the antique one with four chairs, and the size of it fit the loneliness of the moment. A Rizzoli should never have owned a table so miniscule.

A Rizzoli should never have taken her child into a firefight.

“Things are clean,” Maura said instead of crying. She held her purse in front of her hips by the straps as she looked around. The living room beyond the kitchen contained Jane’s old couch, the one gifted to her by Maura for her birthday, and a flatscreen. Case files littered the coffee table, and a large wooden door led no doubt to a balcony. “Well kept.”

“I don’t really spend much time here,” Jane joked.

Maura snapped her head up, and Jane saw the tears in her eyes. “Bedrooms? Where would she sleep?”

Jane ran her teeth over her bottom lip and sniffled loudly. “Over here,” she said, short so as not to risk crying, nodding to the hallway to their right. She walked over to it, and again, Maura followed. She flipped a switch and a light fixture bathed them in a soft, secretive sort of light - enough to see and be seen, but also enough to obscure bumps and bruises. “Hers would be this first door.” She opened it, and there were already basic pieces of children’s furniture on the floor. A bed, a dresser, a rocking chair, a bookshelf. Red Sox paraphernalia, much of it from Jane’s old place, decorated the walls.

Nostalgia cleaved them both, the last time they had both been in the presence of the wall art and the signed baseballs when they were engaged and packing it all up. It broke Jane first. She hung her head and sobbed. “Jane…” Maura admonished, both to hurt and to guard her own heart against the sight.

“I don’t wanna do this,” Jane croaked.

“Don’t want to do what? Show me the apartment?” Maura pressed, inching forward slowly, barely resisting the urge to touch.

Jane looked up, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Live here! Be apart! Not be married to you!” she shouted, quieting at the end when she registered that it was her own voice booming in the space around them.

Maura flinched. “We’re still married.” It sounded hollow to both of them.

“Not really,” Jane said, suddenly crying no longer. With a sniff and wipe of her face, her outburst ceased. “Not in the way that counts.”

“On paper counts,” Maura returned. Despite the jab, she continued to let Jane draw her in. Felt helpless to stop it.

Jane closed the minute distance left. She breathed and it fluttered against Maura’s lips. “I’d tear up the certificate if it meant I got to hold you again,” she said, just before they kissed.

Lips on lips, tongue against tongue, body to body. Maura whimpered. She put her wrists to Jane’s chest, but abandoned that pretense when Jane’s arms wrapped around her.

While their family and friends outside of these walls wondered whether they would ever find their way to civility again, she dragged Jane by the lapels to the master bedroom.

___

4:45 AM. “You’re up early,” Jane said when she entered the kitchen, rubbing away the sleep in her eyes. She wore nothing but a t-shirt and her underwear, her hair sticking out in several directions.

Maura sat at the dining table, putting her shoes back on her feet. Her eye makeup was smudged and her hair just as wild as Jane’s. “Your mother offered to watch Elena unprompted. I don’t want to take advantage of her time.”

“Ok,” Jane replied, too tired to fight, too unwilling to break the spell they had cast over one another in her bed the evening before. She still tasted Maura on her tongue, on her upper lip. “Want some coffee for the road?” She shuffled over to the counter and turned the coffee pot on.

Maura was pretty sure Jane had swiped it from BPD. She stood up and sighed. “Jane, we shouldn’t-“

“Shh,” Jane quieted her. She walked back over to Maura and kissed her softly. “Too early. Too early to fight. Coffee or no?”

“No,” Maura allowed one more sweet press of lips before she put her fingertips on Jane’s handsome jawline. “This has to be our secret.”

Jane’s head dropped. “That we had sex?”

“Yes,” Maura answered. “It won’t happen again. And it will just complicate people’s already confused perception of us. We aren’t back together. We aren’t going to get back together.”

“I’m not givin’ up,” Jane said sternly.

As it had constantly over the past few weeks, Maura’s anger burgeoned. “You already gave up, when you decided to do what you did,” she spat, gathering her things in a whirlwind and stomping toward the door. “This place is adequate. When I decide I’m ready to let you see her, she will be allowed to stay. With a chaperone. Not alone.”

“What do you mean when you’re ready?!” Jane called out to Maura’s retreating form, “I thought that’s what this was all about! Because you were ready! Maura!” But, Maura slammed the door shut just as Jane called her name.

#pyrite #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #otp prompts #ok but what if Jane and Maura slept together one time right after Jane took Elena to that shootout #that is such a sad thought #here read about it

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pennyserenade · 3 years

Text

ungodly hour --

tags: nameless oc x agent whiskey. angst ? rating: m ( mature ) warnings: talk of smut, language, mentions of violence, blood. word count: 1k+ summary: desire and passion are curious things, capable of bringing one pieces of heaven and catapulting them into the fires of hell all in one go. notes: this is pretty short and i wanted it to be more fun, but i don’t think i’m capable of making something like that. i also wanted this to only be a one part story, but i don’t think i’m capable of making those either so this will probably be three parts. n e ways i’m here to give this jack daniels bitch the complexity he deserves ! original gif by: @javier-pena

Her knees rest on his forearms, and she pushes his shoulders into the ground beneath him, earning a groan as his head bounces lightly off of the ground.

“Fuck,” he winces through clenched teeth. She smiles down at him, mirroring the same sort of cockiness he wears on his features every day. He offers a narrow eyed glare. “Your knees are bony.”

She adjusts above him, pressing said knees into him just enough to earn a soft, escaped “ah” from his lips. He closes his eyes, fighting the pain until she settles her weight back onto his torso. Her hands run over the surface of his chest, up and up and up, until nimble fingers find a home on his throat. She’s ghosting over all the important parts in a way that makes him nervous and her excited. He shouldn’t have doubted her. He shouldn’t have betrayed her.

“You’re not very wise, cowboy.”

She tilts her head upwards, inspecting the way his eyelids squeeze shut as her fingers press gently into the flesh of his neck. He’s not afraid, because he knows she won’t hurt him like that; he’s sad because she wants to.

“Nothing to say now?” she asks, leaning in closer to him, moving her hand away. Her warm breathe cascades against the side of his face when she leans forward and tells him, “You’re a fucking coward, baby.”

He doesn’t expect the way she nibbles on the shell of his ear afterwards, or the way her tongue swipes against the base of his neck in a way. He shudders beneath her.

He wishes his hands were freed, and he fights against her hold momentarily before he realizes she’s not going to let him go.

And why should she?

She hovers above him, his head resting between the hands that prop her up. She’s still close enough where he can feel her breathe on his face.

“You ever heard of the kiss of death, Jack?” She presses an open mouthed kiss on his jaw, and instinctively, he moves away from the sensation. She laughs hollowly. “The Sicilian mob bosses used it as a signal,” she continues. “If you had betrayed them, they marked you like that, and that was it—you were sentenced for death.” She presses another kiss, this time closer to his lips. His eyes open, staring curiously up at her. Her calm, cool facade almost begins to crack when they make eye contact and she sees remorse pool in his eyes. Almost.

“Did you mark me, Whiskey?” she asks, voice honeyed. “Was that what you were doing?”

“Not quite, darlin’.”

The sudden sound of his voice, drenched in that southern twang of his, makes her halt. Her eyebrows quirk.

“Oh no?”

“No,” he shakes his head. It's the only thing he can do right now.

She offers him another laugh, free of mirth. Her fingers take the shape of a gun, and she pokes him roughly in the stomach with it, her fingernail digging uncomfortably into his flesh.

“Just like that, Jack,” she whispers. “Just like that, you fucked it all up.”

She bites at her lip. Her eyes train on the fake finger gun that presses into him, and she remembers the very real way he’d pressed a real one into her earlier that night. He was more gentle, she remembers. She only felt the ghost of it, and he’d offered an apologetic look as he did it. He hadn’t pressed the trigger on it, either, but he had pulled the one on the gun in his other hand, the one that was pointed at the target. She remembers the way she had winced when the shot rang throughout the building and the way he hadn’t even moved his eyes away from her when he did it. She remembers thinking “I’m next,” but her bullet never came. He had put the gun back in her hand and said, “I had to do it.”

A stain of blood remains embedded on her pink evening gown, the one that had matched the pocket handkerchief in his tan suit before it was ruined so unceremoniously. She had screamed, not out of fear, but frustration. She had worked hard on that case, had been watching him and seducing that man, and getting all the access she had needed to build a better case against more people like him. And she was close, too.

“You were jealous,” she spits. Her finger gun flats out now, her hand resting on her thigh. “You were jealous because I had done so much of that case without you and you couldn’t stand it so you pointed a gun at me and shot him because you knew I couldn’t do anything.”

“That’s not true,” he answers, voice soft. “I did it because you were in over your head.”

“No I wasn’t!” she shrieks. “I knew exactly what I was doing and you ruined it, you fucking bastard.”

“Baby—“

She presses her knees back into his forearm and he winces again. “Don’t call me that.”

“Goddamnit,” he spits out sharply.

She leans in closer to him again. His head goes between her arms and her breath ghosts over him once more. “Tell me,” she presses her lips to the side of his mouth, testing the waters, “do you like it when we fight like this? That’s why you did it? This is perverse, even for you, cowboy.”

Her lips press onto his, rough and hard, and everything in him tells him to turn away, to not indulge in this, but he can’t. She bites his bottom lip, tugging gently, and he moans into her mouth. Then she bites down a bit harder and when she pulls back, he can taste the blood she’s drawn.

“Baby,” he says softly, looking into her eyes, pleading. She’s distant, far away, but she hears him, the version of her that is warm and bubbly and not bitter like this at all. Her fingers wipe the blood from his lips and she presses another kiss onto them. She’s gentler now and without really thinking about it, she moves off his arms. He groans in relief, and he places his hands on her sides. She trusts him enough to let him, even if he’s pressed a gun into her stomach and made her a fool. Trusts him because he’s Jack and she’s not sure she loves him, but she’s certain their relationship has advanced past just fucking.

“I don’t want to be kind to you,” she admits.

“Don’t be.”

His hand wraps around the wrist that is holding her up above him, and he moves her hand to its original position on his neck. She looks at him, slightly stunned and confused; she wants to be angry, and she wants to hurt him the way he’s hurt her, but the way his eyes darken with desire makes her halt.

Jack had the ability to appear rather full of himself in public, sure of his abilities as a spy and confident about his looks. Some of this translated well into moments like this, when they found themselves in close proximity to each other, drawing illicit sounds from one another. She often let him take control, favoring this confidence because it made him a more interesting being--something to be truly admired in the light of desire.

He was a handsome man, and sometimes when they slept together, she was possessed with this odd feeling she was sleeping with some sort of God. She wouldn’t ever say this, but there were times when he had held her just right; when his mouth found the exact spot she wanted it to, when his hands rested on the curve of her breasts, when he huffed into her flesh and spit out dirty, filthy things in that accent of his. And, more alarmingly, sometimes she thought this even after they’d fucked each other into a sort of stunned silence. Moments where she’d begun to look over and a bead of sweat traveled down the tanned skin of his neck, when his plush lips pursed as his eyebrows furrowed, when he laid on the pillow and his chest rose and fell quickly and the slope of his nose made her feel warm and giddy.

It was unfair, really, that he had to go and point that gun at her, reminding her that he was no God at all. When he pressed it into her, she became vastly aware of his morality. He became bound to the human condition, a man with a pulse and a heart, something she could hurt and something that could hurt her in the way only humans do.

She takes her hand away from his neck.

“I’m getting reassigned tomorrow,” she tells him, voice monotone.

And just like that, he’s gotten his wish.

tagged: @astroboots, @over300books, @penajavier

#my fic.#agent whiskey x nameless oc #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x nameless oc #kingsmen golden circle fic

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abri-chan · 4 years

Note

I was reading your unpopular opinions post and saw your buccellati is an incompetent capo without integrity point which is an interesting take! Would you mind explaining your thoughts to me?

I have hinted this in previous posts but time to compile them in a long one. However, do keep in mind integrity as a capo is different from that as a person. Sometimes they overlap: Polpo was corrupted as a person (a personification of greed) and that greed leaked into his integrity as a capo. As we see his own zone is in shambles during the opening of VA and probably what inspired Giorno to decide Passione needs a better leader. For Bruno, he is actually a kind person, but he doesn’t make the best leader.

So by *integrity* I will use the meaning of “being whole and undivided”, or said in a better way “how much do your decisions or ideals conflict?” So a person would have low integrity if his decisions really go in conflict with his stated ideals. Integrity is befuddled with morality plenty of times, but I want to make the case that it is separate: integrity only measures how much the actions of a system conflict with its core values. Morality comes into play when these conflicts have real consequences on people’s lives.

I’ll also compare Bruno with Risotto, because I see Risotto as a better leader and I want to illustrate by contrast. LONG POST AHEAD

So to start, why is Bruno inefficient? I think his inefficiency as a capo comes from his inherent kindness. It’s a bit like that part in Black panther, where the now dead king says: You are a good man, and it’s hard for a good man to be king. As a capo you have to prioritize your own team; because that’s why they are willing to sacrifice for you in the first place. So sometimes to be efficient you have to take decisions that to you as a *person* may be morally appalling but they’re needed for the greater good of the team. If you think about it murder doesn’t sound okay... but you can justify why Bucci Gang had to commit plenty of murders with regards to their team goal of getting up in the ranks. Or that it is just work assigned by the boss, and so on.

When it comes to Bruno we see him unwilling to harm citizens. Yeah I know he used this guy’s body in his fight with Giorno, but could be the Vegeta effect: at first the author makes us see this guy as bad bc he’s a villain and his personality suddenly changes a lot after he’s baptized as a good guy. I feel mangakas do change small details about characters as time goes on; overall their personality is constant but there are slip ups. Also Bruno may consider those that take drugs to not be worthy citizens... But overall Bruno is okay with torturing a 15 year old boy bc this boy is linked to the mafia by killing Luca, but he’s not okay with sacrificing a 15 year old girl bc she didn’t choose to be thrown into the mess the boss made. That’s a kind decision, and Bruno really acted like a father to Trish; but that’s a dumb and inefficient decision with regards to his team. As Fugo said, they had done plenty of vile things before, so what’s special about abandoning another girl? You can’t endanger the whole team that has served you and put their life on the line, and then just quit and tell them go do whatever, follow me or not, I don’t care.

In my opinion, one thing people don’t talk about leadership, is that when shit hits the fan the leader is someone that is willing to shoulder the responsibility. A team-member can be relieved from the stress of making a hard decision if they say: my capo made me do it. You can’t be blamed if you are a mindless machine that follows orders. And that’s what keeps you sane in morally grey situations where the answer is not obvious. The leader on the other hand, in return for all the power and the willingness of each team member to be his pawn, has to shoulder the burden of the hard decision as well as its moral blame. He has to live with the fact of being the hand that pulled the trigger, and be the ONE to take the decision that no one else wants to take (bc it’s a mentally taxing thing to do).

So you can’t have a capo like Bruno who cannot take hard decisions, but instead unloads that burden on their team: think for yourselves. Definitely makes sense for the team to be self-sufficient on their own, but the capo sets the team goals, so if you area capo, in a hierarchy, you can’t have every member doing their own thing bc it will lead to chaos. You can’t unburden the decision of “following the capo or not” onto Narancia, bc he didn’t sign up for it. He signed up to be a follower and Bruno just changed the terms and conditions (more on this in a moment). Deciding to betray the boss was a capo-level decision, getting on that boat was a capo-level decision, and Bruno the capo just throws that decision burden away and onto his teammates; you pilot your own plane now I don’t care I never trained you and it was out of the blue. (Don’t come with the argument of maybe they all wanted to be capos one day. Sure, but you don’t train fledgling capos on a life and death situation of betraying the boss! It should be a gradual process, not throwing in the towel so your members have to pick up your slack. Bruno highhandedly dissolved the Bucci Gang as a team with no warning and on the worst situation possible for all his members-- when shit hit the fan his answer was to prioritize this stranger girl instead of his own team.)

Inefficiency is linked with lack of integrity bc if your actions conflict with your core values you won’t get much done. A good capo (different from a good person) would have set some capo core values, as well as core goals for his team, and would disclose those to his team members. There’s a contract between the capo and the team member, with terms and conditions; the member follows and sacrifices for capo’s vision because of tangible benefits that come from rising up the ladder. Sure, in many cases people follow for reasons that are not in the “contract”: we have Narancia following bc he respected Bruno, Abbacchio has a one-sided crush, etc. But the reason they were all elated when Bruno became capo is that all members knew they would have power and other benefits coming from them raising in the ranks of Passione. They trust the capo to stay true to the disclosed values and goals, because TRUST is of the essence.

Now what does Bruno do? He has a different contract with the newcomer Giorno, which he doesn’t disclose to the other team members. It’s not smart to play favorites, especially if you have nothing to justify this preference with regards to what the other team members know. We slowly see signs of distrusts or at the very least anxiety appearing in Bucci Gang; Abbacchio and Fugo question why Bruno trusts Giorno so much. It eventually culminates with Fugo breaking away, because Bruno has no integrity as a capo.

In the boat scene, Bruno prioritized his personal trauma and feelings: Trish reminds him of himself and his complicated relationship with his father. But your personal feelings should not come above your capo core values. (There are core personal values and core capo values, and you cannot mix them up as you please). Other members also have had shitty lives and personal feelings, but they don’t deviate from the team values bc they trust their capo won’t either. Why should Bruno’s feelings be special? Fugo rightfully asks why Bruno suddenly changed their contract, for a girl they don’t even know. And Fugo is right; Bruno betrayed his trust, along with the team’s trust: he didn’t uphold the contract and didn’t disclose his real intentions and core values to them. Not only that, but Fugo is made out to be a coward for not getting into that boat, but how could he follow a capo that no longer has integrity? Fugo did the logical thing: his capo who he trusted broke his trust for a stranger, changed the contract, and no one even knows what the new contract is. What are the new core values for the team? What are the new goals? Bruno can’t even lead well anymore, and slowly everyone starts seeing Giorno as more of a leader (Narancia in the fight with Squalo and Tiziano). Because Giorno’s core values and actions align: he has integrity. Why would someone smart like Fugo follow a now chaotic leader like Bruno, who doesn’t even care how much the team has sacrificed for them and breaks their trust as if it were the right thing to do.

Compare that to a team like La Squadra, and it’s sad we don’t see more of their interactions. But from what we see, it’s telling that no one defected, unlike in Bruno’s Gang. And I doubt it’s bc these men were more friends or buddies than Bruno’s Gang. I’m willing to bet they have their own subgroups, and some severely dislike one another. But they stick together bc Risotto’s integrity has a leader has trickled down to his own team: they trust that Risotto will make the hard decisions when the time comes. And they trust he won’t betray the trust and sacrifice they have put into this.

Unlike Bruno who has favorites, it seems Risotto treats his men equally, since he divides the pay among them. It also seems the team clearly knows their core values and goals, otherwise they wouldn’t be so secure in following their leader. You can’t just follow blindly, if the leader doesn’t prove himself that his actions do align with the values he has disclosed to you.

As an example of Risotto putting his team’s values over his own personal feelings: Sorbet and Gelato’s death. We know he’s Sicilian and stereo-typically so at times. In the backstory, the murderer of his cousin is punished by law, but Risotto still kills him... bc blood is a family issue. You have to take honor in your own hands and inflict punishment. Mafia is a bit like family too, so the boss killing two of Risotto’s men has caused harm and humiliation to the entire team. No one will persuade me that Risotto’s initial reaction wasn’t to bust down Diavolo’s door (once he found him) and make him pay for the blood he spilled from his “squadra tree”. But he kept those feelings down, he swallowed the humiliation, bc seeking personal revenge on Sorbet and Gelato would be the foolish thing to do. It’s what Risotto the man would do, but now what Risotto the capo should do. He made the decision to bear the humiliation himself, as the capo who didn’t avenge his fallen men, and it took courage to say: “forget about those two, as if they never existed”. He swallowed both his Sicilian and capo pride in that statement. And he probably stays up at night thinking on how he would want Diavolo to pay through his nose.

In fact, La Squadra didn't’ defect again until Trish appears and they have a real chance at taking down the boss. And even then, Formaggio brings up the financial benefits of being the new leaders of Passione: it’s not just about the humiliation of having Sorbet and Gelato killed, but there are clear financial benefits to them following Risotto this time, and that’s worth sacrificing for. And Risotto doesn’t just up and change his terms and conditions as he pleases, so that makes their men feel secure. You can be angry all you want at Prosciutto killing an entire train, but if you’re need a team partner, would you want Bruno who will change his mind bc one guy on the train reminds him of his dad, or Prosciutto who to protect his own team is willing to kill an entire train? I think a lot of courage in Bucci Gang comes from the inherent virtues in his team members: Narancia is loyal by nature. In La Squadra, since even someone like Melone has “team virtues” it probably comes from the way the leader inspires them all and the kind of environment he has created. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather take the team that guarantees no one will abandon my ass in a mission, bc the capo has high integrity.

On a tangential note, I do believe Bruno is kinder than Risotto; I feel Risotto is more just than he is kind. But maybe for a leader it is more important to be just then, because too much kindness will get you into contradicting the core values you set up for your team.

#anime manga rambles #Bruno Buccellati #Bruno Bucciarati #Risotto Nero #jojo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure

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