#The Penguin Spoilers

[sofiagigantegirl]

Nights With Sofia

Sofia Falcone Gigante x Fem Reader

words: 1820

Sofia and I were in bed. It was eleven o'clock when we lay down to sleep, but now it must have been almost one in the morning when I felt Sofia restless. It’s been getting harder and harder to get her to bed; the nightmares grew stronger every night. It was almost impossible to have a peaceful, full night of sleep.

She spent most nights by the window, smoking, thinking, watching the movement below... and sometimes, watching me as I slept. Rarely does she manage to sleep for even a few hours; only the medication Dr. Julian prescribed helps, but Sofia doesn’t like taking it. She says she doesn’t want to rely on it or risk becoming addicted. She’s never been a fan of medications, and she wouldn’t change her mind now, not even for me.

I felt her moving in bed behind me, carefully lifting her arms off me as she got up. I opened my eyes just enough to see her silhouette crossing the room and heading for the window. The soft sound of the latch being unlocked was followed by a cold breeze flowing into the room, carrying the scent of rain falling outside.

I sat up in bed, but Sofia didn’t seem to notice me. She kept staring out at the rain as she lit a cigarette, her pack usually sitting on the windowsill. Sofia spends most nights at my apartment. The atmosphere in her house at night is neither safe nor pleasant, especially after her brother’s death. Because of that, she started coming over more often. Sometimes I have late-night shifts at work, but even then, she stays here to sleep.

I watched as Sofia tilted her head upward, exhaling smoke through her mouth, with a bit escaping from her nose. I don’t understand how she does it, but there’s something mesmerizing about the way she smokes, turning the simple act into something incredibly captivating. Every movement she makes feels hypnotic.

I got up from the bed carefully and walked over to Sofia in silence. The only sound was the soft patter of rain outside. She didn’t notice me approaching, completely absorbed in her own thoughts.

“Sofia,” I said, stepping closer and placing my hand on her shoulder, which was covered by the oversized shirt she was wearing. It was a rare sight, as she was usually dressed in her elegant dresses, luxurious fur coats, or expensive designer outfits—one piece of which could easily cover my rent.

She turned to me, taking one last drag from her cigarette, now nearly finished, and then stubbed it out on the windowsill. The smell of smoke mixed with the rain’s freshness as she casually flicked the butt out the window, not caring if someone might be passing by. She shut the window, muffling the sound of the rain, which was now falling softly but steadily outside. The sound of water blended with the silence in the room, creating a contrast with the lightness of her presence.

She smiled at me, her expression calm and gentle.

“I thought you were asleep, darling. Did I wake you?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern, though its softness betrayed that the worry was more a polite gesture than genuine. She took my hand, the one that had been on her shoulder, with a delicate touch, as if holding something precious. Something she didn’t want to let go of. I shake my head, a nearly imperceptible motion, and pull her toward the bed. “I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.” My voice comes out softly, more like a confession than an explanation.

When we reach the foot of the bed, I motion for Sofia to sit against the headboard. She does so without saying a word. As she adjusts herself, lightly tugging her shirt down to cover her legs, I climb onto the bed carefully, approaching her slowly. When I sit on her lap, her hands move automatically, as if drawn to me. They rest firmly on my hips, her fingers grazing my skin beneath the fabric of my shirt. Her face finds my neck almost immediately, and the warmth of her breath against my skin makes me close my eyes for a brief moment.

My hands begin to move over her instinctively. One slides up to her hair, my fingers weaving through the soft strands as I gently stroke the nape of her neck. The other moves slowly to her back, my fingers tracing light patterns that seem to relax her even more. I feel the tension in her shoulders gradually fade under my touch, as if I can ease, even just for a moment, the weight the world seems to have placed on her.

Moments like these with Sofia are the ones I cherish the most. The silence is filled only with the soft sound of our breathing and the faint whisper of rain outside. It’s in these moments that she feels truly present, fully here with me, without the ghosts that sometimes steal her focus.

Arkham left her quieter, and as a result, more distant too. She carries a melancholy that’s hard to put into words, as if part of her never really left that place. Even when she’s with me, it’s like something within her is always wandering somewhere else.

Even so, she tries not to drift too far away. I can feel it in the way her hands grip my hips, in the way she breathes deeply against my neck, as if searching for an anchor. But still, there are moments when I catch her lost, staring into nothingness, completely out of touch with reality.

I run my fingers through her hair with a bit more firmness, tilting my head slightly to rest it gently against hers. I don’t say anything; I don’t need to. In moments like this, the silence between us speaks more than any words ever could.

After a while, I feel the kisses she starts placing on my neck, soft and warm, as if each touch carries something she can’t put into words. Her hands caress my sides gently.

I pull back slowly, just enough to meet her gaze. Sofia’s eyes always hold something that captivates me—a glow that’s both strong and vulnerable, as if she carries the weight of the world but still wants to share it with me. I cradle her face in both hands, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingers, and lean in closer.

When our lips meet, it's as if the entire world disappears. The kiss is calm, sweet, and each movement feels like a silent conversation between us, where words would never be enough. Her kisses are always like this, as if she’s giving me pieces of the purest parts of herself.

The first kiss I shared with Sofia felt like every step I had taken and every decision I had made in my life had led me to her. And now, in that moment, everything made sense. I had never felt like this with anyone before, and with Sofia, everything was different.

She holds me tightly, her arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer, as if she wants to merge our bodies and souls into one space. It's almost impossible to be closer than we already are, but her embrace defies that idea. Her warmth surrounds me completely, making every point of contact between us feel like a refuge.

The kiss continues, slow, but filled with a passion that doesn’t need to rush. I feel its intensity in every gesture, in the way her hands slide down my back, holding me gently, and in the way her lips move against mine, as if memorizing every detail.

When the kiss ends, it’s Sofia who pulls away first, but only enough to rest her forehead against mine. Her hands stay on my waist, and she lets out a light sigh, almost as if she had been holding her breath the whole time.

“You’re everything to me,” she whispers, as if it were a secret. I smile, not saying anything, because I know she understands. I pull her into a longer embrace, as the rain outside continues its tranquil symphony, as if the world is conspiring to make this moment perfect.

Sofia sighs against my neck, and the sound is almost a relief. It feels like she’s found refuge, even if just briefly. I run my fingers gently through her hair, and I feel her arms tighten around me a little more, as if she doesn’t want this moment to end.

“Sofia,” I murmur softly, my voice sounding like an invitation. She lifts her head, her eyes shining in contrast to her tired expression. There’s something deep in her gaze, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability that makes me want to protect her from everything.

“Lie down with me,” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. She hesitates for a moment but then nods, slowly releasing my hips. As she settles into bed, I move to lie beside her. Sofia turns to me, reaching out to pull me closer.

Our bodies adjust naturally, as if made to fit together. My head rests on her shoulder, and one of her hands moves up my back, tracing soft, reassuring lines. Her other hand holds mine, our fingers intertwined in a gesture that says more than words could.

The warmth of her body is comforting, a perfect contrast to the light chill of the night air seeping in through the window. I press my face against her neck, breathing in the familiar scent that is uniquely hers — a mix of cigarette smoke, expensive perfume, and something softer that I can’t quite name.

Sofia leans slightly, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “Sorry for worrying you,” she says softly, her voice carrying a weight it shouldn’t have.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I reply, still nestled in her embrace. My hands slide down to her waist, holding her firmly, as if I want to anchor her to the present moment.

I feel her chest rise and fall with a deep breath, and I realize she’s slowly relaxing. Arkham may have taken a part of her, but moments like this make me believe there’s still so much of Sofia here with me, enough to build something worth it.

She hugs me tighter, and the warmth of her touch lulls me. There are no more words, just the sound of our synchronized breathing and the distant beat of the rain against the window.

Eventually, her movements slow, and I realize she’s giving in to sleep. My hand moves up to her face, gently tracing the line of her jaw before resting on her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart.

“Goodnight, Sofia,” I whisper. I don’t expect an answer; I know she’s already falling asleep. I close my eyes, letting the comfort of her embrace take me as well.

[marvelsgirl616]

「 ✦ Sofia ✦ 」

-> The Penguin Season 1: Episode 3

[mcudc616]

*•.¸♡ 𝕤𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕒 ♡¸.•*

-> The Penguin Season 1: Episode 4

[anonymousgayrobot]

bestie you're the only person i agree with about the finale of the penguin

everyone seems so surprised that os is a villain and im ????? did everyone miss that time he set a guy on fire in front of his mother??????? did everyone miss him leaving sofia for dead after she found out he was manipulating her????? he's been a monster all along, that doesn't make him any less of a layered character

i really wish vic hadn't died but his death didn't feel like a revelation of how evil oswald is to me. i think this episode was more about the lies that os tells himself to feel better about his life than it was about "he was evil all along and you too fell for his manipulation". why else would he say all that as he strangled him? vic was dying. if it was about getting rid of him because he didn't need him anymore, why would he bother saying anything?

also that last scene with os pretending to dance with his mom was fucked up but it also seems to me like another way of showing how he's choosing to live in a world of his own lies. he can't deal with the truth, so he doesn't. it's easier that way. and this doesn't make him any less of a monster; it just makes him a complex one.

anyway your analysis is on point and i can't believe they killed off vic to progress os's character

HI! YES i totally agree; please don’t mind my lengthy yapping— i have sooooo much to say about this show

one thing I noticed predominantly throughout the show is the level and intricacies of complexity the characters were given, which you typically don’t see in the average shows pumped out these days, where good and bad is black and white and behavior will always be ‘straightforward’ with the character, unlike in real life where a person’s true nature will more than often contradict their actions, whether that be in acts of denial, or repressing something. whether large or grand, we all do it—so I kind of disagree with people only seeing this finale at surface level.

I really do think Sofia kind of ‘cracked the egg’ with dismantling or at least shaking loose oz’s denials through aggravating the unhealed wound of his brothers and the unspoken wounds between him and his mother; i saw that scene as sofia trying to force out feelings of remorse from oz, which I believe he repressed x100 after his brothers’ deaths, as seeing his expression struggle to remain stoic and continuously denying the truth even if it cost his mother her finger (if he did lack any true guilt, he would’ve admitted it much sooner with indifference ; and if he didn’t feel guilt but never admitted the truth to solely benefit his mother, he would not have hesitated to admit the truth with that priority over his mother. But he doesnt) . But by ‘dismantling’ oz himself, she unleashes this newer version of himself—she showed an opportunist what happens when he slips up with his greed and pauses to care for someone other than himself/guard. before sal and sofia find his mother, sal angrily comments that oz has no one—no one they could weaponize. family is weaponry, a step above simpler loyalty. someone can have as many allies as they want, but it doesn’t mean anything if they’re expendable. oz has viewed all of his allies as expendable, like sal, sofia, and the rest of the gang leaders. victor was an ally initially expendable and a failsafe for alberto’s murder, but upon becoming his protégé, an emotional tie was thrown in.

So in order to fully prevent his guard from ever slipping up again (caring for his mother despite the endangerment), he cannot similarly care for anyone else again (caring about victor despite the endangerment). so vic has to be shut out completely now both for oz’s self-preservation and possibly vic’s ‘preservation’ in a more morbid sense, by knowing his life is now endangered by his own care for oz likewise. who knows what sofia could do to him and what she could wrench out to harm oz again. and when he ‘shuts’ vic out, he has to shut out any sympathies/empathies that follow.

when he steals the money from his wallet, I saw it more as a not-wasting-resources gesture (sewers blown up + crown point hideout raided) rather than genuinely-indifferent disrespect, which goes in hand with that ever-prevalent opportunistic characteristic. “it wasn’t for nothing.” throwing away his ID also appeared disrespectful, but with how his expression froze, it was clear he was shutting out unwanted feelings of regret, perhaps a rogue emotion (seeing as he expresses nearly no remorse for his actions and lies his way around it to avoid it altogether), and threw it away briskly. He needed that reminder gone before the feeling could settle in. (a lack of expression does not always mean a lack of feeling)

If anything, killing victor could also symbolize oz killing his former self—tragically fitting for a finale and change of occupation/direction. it was obvious that he saw himself through vic, or at least began to until it reached a point of no return. That idea could also be applied through vic finding strength in family—oz realizes that was his own undoing, family, and that vic was officially non-expendable. It’d already been basic knowledge that non-expendable people are lethal tools of manipulation (using taj to also kill nadia, and their deaths against sal, alberto against sofia even if it was pinned on the maronis anyways).

And you’re right about him killing vic differently. In the beginning of the show, if he’d done what was expected and had shot vic while his back was turned—it’d be quick and easy, indifferent like everyone else. Same with the second time he nearly killed vic, Oz gives in and spares him, giving him yet another chance even when it didn’t benefit Oz at the moment. Oz centers those around him with how they benefit him, so choosing to spare victor despite the potential burden is an obvious sign of care. Although it makes it much more twisted, oz killing victor the way he did was the furthest thing from indifferent. He could’ve lifted his hand at any moment, but didn’t until the end, further exposing his need to snuff out his own weakness, his care for victor. its the ultimate and worst father-son moment— oz recognizing his care for victor as his protégé to be non-expendable, and the recognition that he couldn’t let himself genuinely care for another person again. i see a lot of people saying that there was no reason for oz to kill victor after everything he did for him—but that’s the exact reason why he needed to. Vic did all of that because he was just that close to Oz, not even taking that exit when given, his loyalty had become familial which could become just as dangerous as Oz’s love for his mother. I also think Oz’s care for vic was similar to the nature of his lies regarding his brothers—not it being a lie itself but rather getting caught up in the short term benefits and attention while blocking out the long term consequences waiting—perhaps distracted by becoming this fatherly figure as a fatherless son himself to a fatherless boy, and avoiding the inevitable pain at the end of the road (their criminal circumstances/predicament) until it’s too late and boils over from his mother’s incident. its also important to note the unique situation this is and how heavily survival and preservation is involved here. Oz can’t care about anyone, it’s dangerous and just as dangerous for everyone else involved in crime (alberto to sofia, nadia + taj to sal). its why he was untouchable when his mother was still hidden, he had nothing to lose—but after sofia, oz learned his lesson the hard way about exceptions, urging him to turn his attention towards vic for the last time.

It could also be similar to how he never returned his brothers despite having time and even staring out the window (slowly killing victor with time to change his mind). It could be that in the moment as a child he was accepting the situation for what it was, he’d killed his brothers and needed to assess what to do, but us the viewer have to keep in mind his opportunistic personality (hinted by oz’s admiration of rex despite his older brother’s moral aversion) and the possibility of shock feigning as indifference (i say this because of the severity of oz’s denial reminds me of a trauma response). as many children do, he sought the short term benefit—the short term benefit was keeping his mother’s affection over disrupting that current peace and causing long term harm. (i don’t really believe the real reason was to have it solely for himself, mostly because it was only from his mother’s bias/pov and then by sofia who was only out to hurt him—but i think he just wanted to sustain it). by seeking the short term benefit of saying nothing and sharing a nice moment with his mother, it also further highlights, as you said, his inability to deal with the truth and the lies he upholds to keep his own peace (something his mother also did by constantly lying to oz that she didn’t know what he’d done and actually loathed him for it instead)—a ticking time bomb which sofia uses and demolishes completely, or at least enough for the viewers to realize the severity of oz’s delusions, which as you said, had been prevalent since the beginning, but never quite the full depth or scope of.

[andrew-garfielld]

Cristin Milioti as Sofia Gigante THE PENGUIN (2024) S01E08 | "A Great or Little Thing"

[bittwitchy]

The Penguin (2024) 1x01 -- After Hours

[bruciemilf]

So I watched Penguin

[mdnet]

Cristin Milioti as Sofia Gigante. / The Penguin Finale Preview.

[useragarfield]

⸺ The Penguin 1.04 | "Cent'anni" (2024)

[balls-heheh]

Oh fuck you-

[weak-hero]

there is so much to unpack about dinner scene but it comes down to two people finding themselves in unexpected pseudo-familial dynamic born out of grief and loneliness

sofia asks if she can help in cooking/changes plates and then be still for millisecond, almost bracing herself for harsh reaction because that how it was with carmine. but sal is not like her father. she doesn't have to walk on eggshells in case she makes him upset, she can actually relax a little bit and eat in peace.

and i love all the parallels and anti-parallels between these dinner scenes from 1x04 and 1x06 :

grand room vs kitchen

sal actually cooking the meal vs carmine getting the prepared food

soup (symbol of warmth/intimate dish) vs roasted hunted meat

carmine/sal both pour her wine (as in she's the big girl sitting at adults table)

carmine positioned at the head of the table vs sal choosing to sit next to her

sofia in proper dress/hair done vs nightgown/hair disheveled

all the food x sofia scenes post-arkham were a build up to this scene with sal so audience would see how she's more considerate to him -> actually mindful of his opinion about herself ; cause sofia was eating like time was running out, not caring what people would think about her and here she's makes herself to slow down and actually enjoy the meal like!!!!!!!!!!!!! so much to unpack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[opheliacore]

NOOOOO NOOOO NOOOOOOOOOO NOOOO

[spiteslucanis]

THE PENGUIN S1E1: "After Hours"

[outislovescomics]

oh ,,,,

[finniestoncrane]

[artofdoubt]

THE PENGUIN (2024) 1.08 A Great or Little Thing