Can we all just take one second to admire this giant brute of a man hyping himself up after being the first person to get an exclusive interview with Dick Grayson? Clark Kent, you are so loveable.
Superman: American Alien #4
also i think about Crime Alley as both the physical source for bruce’s loss and also a sign of gotham’s renewal — leslie’s clinic as one example, or bruce’s dedication to social reform in park row. how after twenty years he is still tethered to the cinema, the alley, the gutters. he knows each brick by touch alone, in the dark he can find his way unaided. like the manor it is the foundation holding him upright. does he find comfort there for himself, knowing that he can always return?
but the graysons died in a field, in the ring. the ring is not stationary, it moves as haleys does. its sawdust floor is discarded after the show, its bleachers disassembled, the big top packed away for the next town, the next country, the next show. the graysons died at haleys, but it isn’t anywhere their son can return to. he can stand in the field, knee deep in grass, but the crowd will not be there, nor the tent nor the jugglers. he could travel the world and never truly find the place his parents died. the only way out is through.
Genuinely I think this makes him the smartest person in the room. Not only is he a brilliant detective, but the fact that he's able to outmaneuver and control virtually everyone including other geniuses and masterminds makes him the most terrifying. There's a reason why his enemies have give up using intelligence against him and simply resorting to brute force.
Now hold your horses before you bring your crowbars and let me explain.
Dick once said, "On an even playing field, I always win."
And it's true. But how do you even the field if your enemies are geniuses, detectives, or metas?
And that's exactly what Dick does.
Let's begin from his younger years. Dick is 19, newly out of Batman's wing and in no position to take on a skilled mercenary on by himself. But the mercenary isn't going to stop just because he says please. So.
DEATHSTROKE WAS CLEARLY NOT EXPECTING TO GET OUTPLAYED BY A 19 YEAR OLD.
"You're right Slade, he's not a fool so choose a dumber kidnapping victim next time."
Ofcourse this is the least of his abilities.
This cover is perfect because it shows how two of them are literally in a constant game of chess. And evidence of Dick's tactical expertise was never more obvious than the bombing of Bludhaven.
By all means Dick had won.
And he's right. Dick is incredibly intelligent, and he has to be given how he maneuvered the entirety of the world to save him city. Not just the heroes and villains, but everyone - the heroes, the villains, the government, the civilians, the organized crime - everyone. He ruled the freaking world at that moment.
@haroldhighballjordan actually made a post about this that explains this scene so well
But yeah Slade knew he lost so in his petty vengeance what he basically did was set the whole fucking chessboard on fire.
The perfection to which Dick had calculated and moved millions of people to force Slade into abandoning their game and leave him shrieking and seething in rage over his loss. Another reminder that this game only happened because Dick manipulated Rose away from her father, away from his control to a better life.
Spyral is one of my favorite comics because it shows just how good of a manipulator Dick Grayson is.
One of Dick's coldest traits is his ability to manipulate a situation to fit his needs.
In the beginning Dick wanted to calm the meta down and take him in but the second his opponent let out the slightest hint of weakness, look how fast he flips his words. This man is brilliant.
And his planning came to fruition as the meta wore himself out, allowing Dick to take control of the situation and the opponent with no harm to himself-a quick, two second exit. He can manipulate emotions, thoughts, and people to get what he wants like he's playing chess with a child.
But it's not just other people- he can completely change himself to become a whole new person. In the earlier chapters, Dick is learning how to shoot a gun for the agency.
Dick's a terrible shot. Not a single bullet lands in the center of the target-there's no way he's ever going to shoot well....or atleast that's what he wants you to think-
"Yeah, well, that's what spies do."
"We lie."
part 2
I feel bad for Lin Ling, but my brain demands angst. Or the horrors. Miss J said that Nice's fans have been waiting long enough for him to reach the top. And if for the public (for it's significant part at least) heroes are nothing more than spectacular characters, what if even after Lin Ling became his own hero, some fans would demand Nice's comeback. Like "yeeeah the OG is dead((( but the copy looks just like him! also he has new cool fighting techniques! and he genuinely loves Moon like Nice is supposed to! idk the commoner is just a downgrade in comparison :( i miss Nice's grace, commoner is just... meh". They would leave negative comments, spread their opinion, attract like-minded people. And no matter how hard Lin tries to move on from Nice, Nice would be forced upon him. The fans' will is no joke after all. Damage to his mental health (he finally became "himself", but there're people who prefer false identity other the real one and see him as a perfect mannequin) would be bearable, but then their desires pile up and start to affect his appearance again - everyday, looking at the mirror, he would notice more and more white strands. And distinct flecks of blue in his brown eyes... Sure, he has loyal fans ready to support The Commoner no matter what, but the consequences of "playing Nice" would haunt him. Because it's the fans who create the hero. And some fans have different plans for you. Teehee.
If you think that Dick doesn't share his problems with other people because he thinks it will upset others...
Let me introduce you:
Dick knows perfectly well that he has a world of people who would drop everything to go help him, that he would never be a bother to them, but that's precisely why he doesn't want to worry them, because as he is usually the support, he knows how tiring it can be, and because he doesn't want anyone to think that he is unwilling to help them.
Honestly, I’m exhausted by the discourse surrounding Aldo Bellini :)))
Why can’t we keep the canon intact and build on it, rather than bashing Aldo’s character to fit a different narrative? The depth of his relationship with Thomas, the weight of their history, the fact that they know each other too well—that’s what makes their story so rich. It doesn’t need to be rewritten, and Aldo doesn’t need to be cast aside to justify another interpretation...
What exactly has he done wrong? The way people project their own political views onto this fictional character—one who has the courage to say outright that he refuses to be anything other than what he is and what he believes in, in order to sway undecided voters, even at the cost of the papacy—is ridiculous. The fact that he’s a liberal figure shouldn’t make him more politically skewed than the literal fascist in the film.
Yes, he stops speaking when the nuns enter the auditorium—who wouldn’t? They’re organizing a campaign in his name, one he never asked for.
Yes, he doesn’t address the women directly in the film as Benítez or Lawrence do. That does not make him a hypocrite regarding his views. The film is from Lawrence’s POV—we don’t see everything that happens outside of that lens.
He stands up to Tedesco, even if it’s short-lived, not because he’s weak, but because he’s done it countless times before, and it has changed nothing. It’s habitual—he has defended the late pope’s legacy against Tedesco before. As he himself mentioned, the smears, the leaks to the press—he faced the Venetian Patriarch again and again, likely alone, as one of the highest-ranking officials in the Vatican, shielding a dying pope who could no longer shield himself.
And Tedesco knew that. Canonically, he knew. Because he has eyes and ears everywhere in the Vatican. That’s why the last months of the late pope’s papacy were so brutal. Why the attacks against his leadership and his vision were so savage.
But Aldo still speaks up. He does. Thomas doesn’t. No one else in that room does—except Aldo and Vincent. And yes, Vincent articulates it better. He is more forceful, more impassioned, more genuine. Because this is his first time in the Curia, and he is stunned by the hypocrisy, by the blatant power-hunger of it all.
Aldo isn’t stunned. He can’t be. He has lived in it for too long, fought too many battles that went nowhere. He knows the game better than anyone, and he knows that fighting with everything he has won’t change the fact that the system has been built to withstand men like him. So does he still push back? Yes. Does he still try? Yes. But he no longer expects it to make a difference. Because it probably never has.
The idea that he is somehow spineless, or merely a foil to Vincent Benítez, while the actual deplorable men in the film go unchallenged by the fandom, is frustrating.
It ignores the central theme of Conclave: these are flawed, human men, all of them, shaped by faith, experience, and immense pressure. None of them are “better” than the others—they are all navigating their faith, their responsibilities, their mistakes, their choices.
Yes, Aldo later chooses a moderate candidate, Tremblay, rather than pushing for himself—but that’s what they’ve been reduced to by that point. Maybe if Aldo had been in the lead from the beginning, he would have fought harder. But it's one thing to be expected to win and another to be faced with the reality that he does not have enough support. And crucially, he has no idea that Tremblay only made it into the race because he bribed their brothers. Aldo isn’t playing politics for personal gain—he is choosing the lesser evil to salvage what he fumbled, to protect 40 years of progress, the legacy of the late Holy Father—progress that he personally fought for.
And we never know if Aldo actually accepted Tremblay’s offer to continue as Secretary of State if Tremblay won. We don’t even know if the offer was made. But even if it was—even if Aldo had accepted—it would not make him a bad person. It would not make him corrupt. It would make him pragmatic. It would make him someone willing to do what he could to keep his work alive, to preserve some of the progress of the Church, even in the face of his own failures. Accepting his shortcomings and trying to fix what he would be allowed to fix is not weakness. It is not cowardice. It is a man doing his best with what he has left.
Yes, in the book, he casts an early vote for someone who stands no chance, and then for Lawrence, who in his eyes is just as unlikely.
But imagine what it must be like to be so brilliant, so well-versed in theology, and so skilled in Vatican realpolitik, only to realize that those very traits make you unworthy of the papacy—because the papacy should be the result of divine intervention, not a media campaign that crowned him as the next pontiff before the conclave even began.
He knows the late pope betrayed Thomas’s trust by confiding in Aldo about Thomas’s struggles with prayer. And so he chooses to betray their late friend in return—not out of malice, but to ease Thomas’s burden, to tell him that even the pope had doubts too. To make sure Thomas understands that maybe the Church is what’s wrong—not Thomas, not him, not his faith.
Even in their worst moments, Aldo and Thomas do not let go of each other. They still sit next to each other, even after arguments. They still walk side by side. They still seek each other’s gaze, even in disapproval.
The core of Aldo and Thomas’s relationship—and I am only speaking about what we explicitly see—is that they know each other too well. So well that it’s uncomfortable. Their bond is deep, intimate, and painful because it forces them to confront parts of themselves they might otherwise ignore.
Thomas is right to call Aldo a coward in the moment that he does, but that doesn’t make him one—it means he was trapped by circumstance, by months of mounting pressure, by the expectation that he would step into the late pope’s shoes despite feeling unworthy. And Thomas knows that, too. That’s why he doesn’t make a sweeping judgment about Aldo’s character—he doesn’t mark him as faulty, doesn’t condemn him as lesser. He simply states that Aldo lacks the courage to become pope. Because at that moment, it’s true. But it isn’t about Aldo as a person—it’s about Thomas realizing, too late, that he backed the wrong candidate. That Aldo had been telling him from the beginning. That Aldo never wanted it. That he knew Aldo never wanted it and he finally accepted the truth of it.
And Aldo is right about Thomas’s ambition before Thomas even admits it to himself—before he confesses that he already has a papal name chosen.
Aldo—despite his anger—protects Thomas. He tells him to save his precious doubts for his prayers, but only after checking the corridor to make sure no one is listening, to make sure no one can use this to destroy his friend. Even when they lash out, even when they misunderstand each other, they still protect each other. Because the reality is, they are both exhausted, both distressed, both making mistakes. And that’s okay.
But this is not one-sided. They are very much equals. Aldo downplays Thomas’s doubts, yes, but Thomas does the exact same thing to Aldo. When Aldo tells Thomas he doesn’t believe he is worthy of being pope, Thomas laughs. He treats it like a joke because to him, Aldo is worthy.
But their friendship will not fall apart because of it.
The most important thing? They recover. Their closeness is neither a flaw nor a weakness. It is terrifying to be fully known by someone, but it is also a profoundly beautiful thing. They don’t doubt each other—they give their votes to each other through it all. They doubt themselves because the other sees too much, unearths too much. Their story is about tension, about recognition, about the pain of seeing and being seen—but ultimately, it is also about growth.
Aldo Bellini actively recognizes his mistakes, apologizes, and takes tangible steps to make things right—all in a single day—to fix the hurt he caused his dearest friend.
Aldo is the one who takes the first step. He is the one who acknowledges his own failings, and in doing so, he gives Thomas the space to admit his own. They were both right about each other. Not just Thomas being right about Aldo—Thomas could have sat with that, could have enjoyed the sense of superiority in the moment. But he doesn’t. Instead, he levels them. Because Aldo was brave. Because Aldo chose to be honest. Because it was unfair to dismiss him as a coward, while Thomas himself holds the truth of his ambition back.
And Aldo? He is genuinely happy when Vincent Benítez is elected. He claps, he stands, he moves on. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he was the heir presumptive, that his dear late friend beat him in chess one last time. That the late pope was, once again, eight moves ahead. Because he doesn’t mind. He never wanted the papacy out of ambition—only out of necessity. That’s why he positioned himself as a foil to Tedesco’s views, not as a person. So, of course, he is relieved that a man with morals and principles was chosen instead, a person, not a politician.
Read the book. Read the script. Watch the film again.
These men don’t have to sacrifice their friendship just because a “new, better, shinier” person sits in the Vatican now. Because guess what? Vincent Benítez isn’t perfect either. He has struggled with his faith. He has experienced traumas that shaped him. This is a man who has faced warlords, mafias, criminals both petty and powerful. He is no stranger to being stripped of his vestments and forced to exist as nothing but a man. Even he, in the book, the script, the film, does not always act rationally. He throws Aldo’s arrogance about returning to Rome and potentially having to stay right back at him—and honestly, he isn’t wrong, neither is Aldo. Vincent is stubborn. He is not innocent, despite the name he chose. He needs Thomas’s acknowledgment of his anatomy for a reason. He has doubts, too. And doubts are not a bad thing. Just as Aldo seeks Thomas’s approval before taking the chessboard, before opening up, before allowing himself to grieve.
Aldo and Vincent are not foils—they are the same in their love, just as Aldo and Thomas are united in their pain, just as Aldo and Tedesco are the two sides of the same coin in their intellect and ideological strength. They are men. What they do is what sets them apart—and what brings them together.
And if you’re going to tell me that a stupid BuzzFeed quiz calling Aldo Bellini “spineless” months ago is still driving this entire discourse? Then maybe it’s time to admit you never understood him nor the source material in the first place.
Honestly, I’m exhausted by the discourse surrounding Aldo Bellini :)))
Why can’t we keep the canon intact and build on it, rather than bashing Aldo’s character to fit a different narrative? The depth of his relationship with Thomas, the weight of their history, the fact that they know each other too well—that’s what makes their story so rich. It doesn’t need to be rewritten, and Aldo doesn’t need to be cast aside to justify another interpretation...
What exactly has he done wrong? The way people project their own political views onto this fictional character—one who has the courage to say outright that he refuses to be anything other than what he is and what he believes in, in order to sway undecided voters, even at the cost of the papacy—is ridiculous. The fact that he’s a liberal figure shouldn’t make him more politically skewed than the literal fascist in the film.
Yes, he stops speaking when the nuns enter the auditorium—who wouldn’t? They’re organizing a campaign in his name, one he never asked for.
Yes, he doesn’t address the women directly in the film as Benítez or Lawrence do. That does not make him a hypocrite regarding his views. The film is from Lawrence’s POV—we don’t see everything that happens outside of that lens.
He stands up to Tedesco, even if it’s short-lived, not because he’s weak, but because he’s done it countless times before, and it has changed nothing. It’s habitual—he has defended the late pope’s legacy against Tedesco before. As he himself mentioned, the smears, the leaks to the press—he faced the Venetian Patriarch again and again, likely alone, as one of the highest-ranking officials in the Vatican, shielding a dying pope who could no longer shield himself.
And Tedesco knew that. Canonically, he knew. Because he has eyes and ears everywhere in the Vatican. That’s why the last months of the late pope’s papacy were so brutal. Why the attacks against his leadership and his vision were so savage.
But Aldo still speaks up. He does. Thomas doesn’t. No one else in that room does—except Aldo and Vincent. And yes, Vincent articulates it better. He is more forceful, more impassioned, more genuine. Because this is his first time in the Curia, and he is stunned by the hypocrisy, by the blatant power-hunger of it all.
Aldo isn’t stunned. He can’t be. He has lived in it for too long, fought too many battles that went nowhere. He knows the game better than anyone, and he knows that fighting with everything he has won’t change the fact that the system has been built to withstand men like him. So does he still push back? Yes. Does he still try? Yes. But he no longer expects it to make a difference. Because it probably never has.
The idea that he is somehow spineless, or merely a foil to Vincent Benítez, while the actual deplorable men in the film go unchallenged by the fandom, is frustrating.
It ignores the central theme of Conclave: these are flawed, human men, all of them, shaped by faith, experience, and immense pressure. None of them are “better” than the others—they are all navigating their faith, their responsibilities, their mistakes, their choices.
Yes, Aldo later chooses a moderate candidate, Tremblay, rather than pushing for himself—but that’s what they’ve been reduced to by that point. Maybe if Aldo had been in the lead from the beginning, he would have fought harder. But it's one thing to be expected to win and another to be faced with the reality that he does not have enough support. And crucially, he has no idea that Tremblay only made it into the race because he bribed their brothers. Aldo isn’t playing politics for personal gain—he is choosing the lesser evil to salvage what he fumbled, to protect 40 years of progress, the legacy of the late Holy Father—progress that he personally fought for.
And we never know if Aldo actually accepted Tremblay’s offer to continue as Secretary of State if Tremblay won. We don’t even know if the offer was made. But even if it was—even if Aldo had accepted—it would not make him a bad person. It would not make him corrupt. It would make him pragmatic. It would make him someone willing to do what he could to keep his work alive, to preserve some of the progress of the Church, even in the face of his own failures. Accepting his shortcomings and trying to fix what he would be allowed to fix is not weakness. It is not cowardice. It is a man doing his best with what he has left.
Yes, in the book, he casts an early vote for someone who stands no chance, and then for Lawrence, who in his eyes is just as unlikely.
But imagine what it must be like to be so brilliant, so well-versed in theology, and so skilled in Vatican realpolitik, only to realize that those very traits make you unworthy of the papacy—because the papacy should be the result of divine intervention, not a media campaign that crowned him as the next pontiff before the conclave even began.
He knows the late pope betrayed Thomas’s trust by confiding in Aldo about Thomas’s struggles with prayer. And so he chooses to betray their late friend in return—not out of malice, but to ease Thomas’s burden, to tell him that even the pope had doubts too. To make sure Thomas understands that maybe the Church is what’s wrong—not Thomas, not him, not his faith.
Even in their worst moments, Aldo and Thomas do not let go of each other. They still sit next to each other, even after arguments. They still walk side by side. They still seek each other’s gaze, even in disapproval.
The core of Aldo and Thomas’s relationship—and I am only speaking about what we explicitly see—is that they know each other too well. So well that it’s uncomfortable. Their bond is deep, intimate, and painful because it forces them to confront parts of themselves they might otherwise ignore.
Thomas is right to call Aldo a coward in the moment that he does, but that doesn’t make him one—it means he was trapped by circumstance, by months of mounting pressure, by the expectation that he would step into the late pope’s shoes despite feeling unworthy. And Thomas knows that, too. That’s why he doesn’t make a sweeping judgment about Aldo’s character—he doesn’t mark him as faulty, doesn’t condemn him as lesser. He simply states that Aldo lacks the courage to become pope. Because at that moment, it’s true. But it isn’t about Aldo as a person—it’s about Thomas realizing, too late, that he backed the wrong candidate. That Aldo had been telling him from the beginning. That Aldo never wanted it. That he knew Aldo never wanted it and he finally accepted the truth of it.
And Aldo is right about Thomas’s ambition before Thomas even admits it to himself—before he confesses that he already has a papal name chosen.
Aldo—despite his anger—protects Thomas. He tells him to save his precious doubts for his prayers, but only after checking the corridor to make sure no one is listening, to make sure no one can use this to destroy his friend. Even when they lash out, even when they misunderstand each other, they still protect each other. Because the reality is, they are both exhausted, both distressed, both making mistakes. And that’s okay.
But this is not one-sided. They are very much equals. Aldo downplays Thomas’s doubts, yes, but Thomas does the exact same thing to Aldo. When Aldo tells Thomas he doesn’t believe he is worthy of being pope, Thomas laughs. He treats it like a joke because to him, Aldo is worthy.
But their friendship will not fall apart because of it.
The most important thing? They recover. Their closeness is neither a flaw nor a weakness. It is terrifying to be fully known by someone, but it is also a profoundly beautiful thing. They don’t doubt each other—they give their votes to each other through it all. They doubt themselves because the other sees too much, unearths too much. Their story is about tension, about recognition, about the pain of seeing and being seen—but ultimately, it is also about growth.
Aldo Bellini actively recognizes his mistakes, apologizes, and takes tangible steps to make things right—all in a single day—to fix the hurt he caused his dearest friend.
Aldo is the one who takes the first step. He is the one who acknowledges his own failings, and in doing so, he gives Thomas the space to admit his own. They were both right about each other. Not just Thomas being right about Aldo—Thomas could have sat with that, could have enjoyed the sense of superiority in the moment. But he doesn’t. Instead, he levels them. Because Aldo was brave. Because Aldo chose to be honest. Because it was unfair to dismiss him as a coward, while Thomas himself holds the truth of his ambition back.
And Aldo? He is genuinely happy when Vincent Benítez is elected. He claps, he stands, he moves on. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he was the heir presumptive, that his dear late friend beat him in chess one last time. That the late pope was, once again, eight moves ahead. Because he doesn’t mind. He never wanted the papacy out of ambition—only out of necessity. That’s why he positioned himself as a foil to Tedesco’s views, not as a person. So, of course, he is relieved that a man with morals and principles was chosen instead, a person, not a politician.
Read the book. Read the script. Watch the film again.
These men don’t have to sacrifice their friendship just because a “new, better, shinier” person sits in the Vatican now. Because guess what? Vincent Benítez isn’t perfect either. He has struggled with his faith. He has experienced traumas that shaped him. This is a man who has faced warlords, mafias, criminals both petty and powerful. He is no stranger to being stripped of his vestments and forced to exist as nothing but a man. Even he, in the book, the script, the film, does not always act rationally. He throws Aldo’s arrogance about returning to Rome and potentially having to stay right back at him—and honestly, he isn’t wrong, neither is Aldo. Vincent is stubborn. He is not innocent, despite the name he chose. He needs Thomas’s acknowledgment of his anatomy for a reason. He has doubts, too. And doubts are not a bad thing. Just as Aldo seeks Thomas’s approval before taking the chessboard, before opening up, before allowing himself to grieve.
Aldo and Vincent are not foils—they are the same in their love, just as Aldo and Thomas are united in their pain, just as Aldo and Tedesco are the two sides of the same coin in their intellect and ideological strength. They are men. What they do is what sets them apart—and what brings them together.
And if you’re going to tell me that a stupid BuzzFeed quiz calling Aldo Bellini “spineless” months ago is still driving this entire discourse? Then maybe it’s time to admit you never understood him nor the source material in the first place.
thinking about lawrence and bellini and how they think they know each other, and they do, but not without the clarity each expects...bellini's 'don't be so naive' comment comes out with such force. he's been holding that between his teeth for years. decades maybe. all the time bellini spent struggling with his ambitions, his resentments.
it's only now during the conclave that will make or break his career and redeem the course of his life, his chance to step up and take up the mantle of the dead friend he is grieving deeply. it's now that it comes out - how much he has been living like a politician.
presenting himself one way, upholding the virtues of justice and humility, enjoying his own flair in throwing down the gauntlet, listing all his ideals and principles.
add: dramatic refusal. add: dramatic exit. performing so well, even his oldest friend cannot see it. cannot see him, for who he is. and so of course lawrence's trust and belief in him cannot be true; but bellini can't help but crumble when it starts eroding.
he is a false icon and a false man. he envies what he sees of lawrence, the doubts he has which are turned towards god and not towards the church (a doubt he shared with the late pope, and can only confess to it through him, even in absence). his self-denial that keeps him safe from ambition, that makes it terribly easy to set aside as competition, makes him safe to rely on.
except lawrence has a courage bellini can't replicate. an ability to respond to circumstances and not merely react and hesitate due to the possible costly outcomes.
because he is brilliant, he can see risks so clearly, he is so deeply aware of the weight in every decision and that hinders him terribly, it is the hubris of the righteous, a self-hating sense of responsibility. who else but him should be pope?
the big test of character he faces is not a scandal with victims or a crime: it is only disappointing a friend, disappointing himself. only that. a very quiet thing happens, behind closed doors, like so many other quiet things.
lawrence breaks the papal seal. he breaks vows and promises and protocol and ritual; he broke faith with the institution they have served together for decades, and so bellini cannot hold faith with him, or the truth he is trying to bring to the light.
the truth does not, then, matter as much as the look of the thing. the risk is too great. oh, it is always too great, for aldo bellini to take.
it is only when he loses lawrence's faith, the last steady old living faith lawrence has, that bellini realizes he does not have it in him to live by integrity. what an ugly thing to know, and to learn from someone renouncing him, the one person he thought would not.
lawrence makes clear bellini's weaknesses, as he does for the rest, and bellini sees him clearly in the light of day after a night of looking at himself, and he is very sorry, and grateful to him, for being the crucible. the least of all evils, and the one who cuts closest to the bone.
he looks at the darkness inside himself and apologizes. so quickly, so simply.
bellini apologizes; he makes amends; he offers supports, upholds the mirror as lawrence did, works towards a better future. it is another day. he is a politician, and it is another day.
when they reconcile he says: it is shameful to live this long and not know himself. and it is then, because he says that, at his prompting, in the example of that peculiar courage bellini has and thinks he does not have, that lawrance admits it. he does have a name scrawled in his heart, a small ambition; he is capable of wanting, even he would rather not.
and still, bellini leads the way for lawrence. in facing his failures to live up to his image of himself, in the possibility not only of regret and shame and struggle for dignity when facing the certainty of defeat (adeyemi) or denial, incomprehension (tremblay) - but in making amends.
lawrence's old trust in him is not baseless or empty, there is love between them still, because bellini is not that good of a politician, it turns out; he doesn't have what it takes to stick it out, to pretend at a thing he cannot be.
he is too true for it. he is brave, only not in the way he sought to be thought of. a quieter thing, less emphatic, more powerful by far. he is so clearly exhausted of himself. pretending at certainty is so much more treacherous and exhausting and dangerous than doubt admitted. and humility, the scholar learns, is the only possible road for knowledge of the self and the other and the world.
don't be so naive thomas. don't be so naive. but in the morning it is bellini asking for the name john, preparing in expectation and hope for his friend the moment he would ask him the term of his papacy after being elected. he asks without resentment, and with a new belief in him, a true understanding.
a reverse-baptism, which never happens, except for how it exists between them. what is the name of your fearful desire, your sin, your hope in the midst of hopelessness, your weakness like my own?
the dangerous ones are the ones who want to be elected. but aldo bellini is the one person who says, everyone wants it. he denies the possibility for false pretenses.
and because it is his friend who speaks of it, not tremblay accusing him of it or benítez offering it freely, but aldo bellini who asks what is the shape and sound of his secret faith in himself, lawrence can admit it.
if he can forgive bellini for it, he has to forgive himself. if bellini can face what sort of man he is, so does he. and he doesn't, of course, forgive himself for it, or give himself much of any grace. but he begins to believe that is it possible others might truly know his doubts and desires, and not look away, or be appealed, betrayed, renounce him for his humanity. bellini doesn't.
they see each other clearly now. they sit on the same bench, apart from the rest of the world, secluded in friendship.
in the script, after the explosion, they walk arm in arm for the last vote.
“batman loves his nightwing” this and “batsibs love nightwing that”, what about the batsibs’ friends / team loving nightwing ‼️‼️
The thing about Dick Grayson is that he has such a unique quality that just draws people in and holds them captive.
Titans (2016) Issue #26
He has a charisma that's intense. People from all walks of life find themselves just constantly looking at him for friendship, advice, love, guidance, and just something that calls them to him.
It's the impact he has on people that's astounding.
Titans (2016) Issue #27
They love him so much and they respect him so much that his absence is like a huge gaping hole in their chest. People feel lost without him because they've come to rely so heavily on him. Gar and Steel literally only joined because Dick asked.
This is something Roy catches on to and is well-aware of. He practically hounds Dick into creating the Outsiders with him.
Outsiders (2003) Issue #1
But you think Roy is the only one to capitalize on Dick's Nightwing effect? Hell no.
Titans East Special
Dick isn't just a person. He's a home. He's the guiding hand and the ship's steer control. He's special to people because he's everything they want him to be. He's their lover, best friend, brother, and partner. Whatever role they're missing in life they find it him him because he makes himself versatile enough to fill whatever they're looking for.
Dark Crisis Issue #1
We say batsibs' teams but he's the whole Justice community's everything. He fills the connections of both Batman's side and Superman's side.
He IS the most well-connected person in the entire community.
Teen Titans (2003) Issue #23
Look at what Kon says -
"Nightwing and Starfire brought wave two. Which is just about everyone whose ever been a Titan. It's a natural thing when Nightwing shows up. None of us are conscious of it, really--but we all look to him for orders. Robin's lucky."
The sheer respect. That Kon has for Nightwing is indomitable. Oh, but you think that's all?
Do you know what the superhero community says about Nightwing? Kon will tell you what they think -
Teen Titans (2003) Issue #33
The Titans (1999) Issue #39
He calls. They answer.
Epilson
The Titans (1999)
Red Condor
Nightwing (2016) Annual #3
Hutch
Nightwing (2016) Issue #75
Kara
Justice League of America (2006) Issue #49
Supergirl (2005) Issue #3
And sometimes this means more than friendship love but still born out of respect. It's so funny to me how Dick goes around friendzoning people.
Cassie
Even when people don't like what he wants they still do it because they respect him. Because he had an impact on them and they were were moved
Titans (2003) Issue #89
Aquaman, Ollie, John (Green Lantern)
JLA (1997) Issue #121
Kyle Rayner
Even people he's just met are like - this guy's pretty good!
Green Lantern (1990) Issue #81
Coming from a Green Lantern comic!! Not even a Wondergirl, Wonderwoman, Batman, or Nightwing writer. A green lantern!
Speaking of which, when Hal Jordon dies, a list of people are selected to be The Hal Jordon's replacement and guess who it is?
Action Comics (1938) Issue #642
Hal forces his soul back into his body and comes back to life but DC does a "what-if" thing and shows what it would be like if Dick actually became a Green Lantern.
Superman/Batman Issue #60
AND BRUCE'S REACTION!! His most favorite son combined with one of his least favorite people 🤣🤣
Superman/Batman Issue #60
But Bruce's faith in Dick actually elavtes his opinion of Hal.
ALSO!!-
Superman/Batman Issue #61
I JUST KNOW THAT BRUCE WAS WRITHING IN JEALOUSY!!
But anyway, shows to prove that no matter who Dick is and what identity he takes, he will always be the love of the hero community. Because in this world, each member is a combination of the Justice League AND the Titans.
Superman/Batman Issue #60
Yet Dick is still the center of it all.
A literal god
Nightwing (2016) Issue #49
Jon and the hero community
Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis Issue #1
"It would mean a LOT to people if you came and said--" "You're all overreacting." "We need you."
"You're all overreacting." - Clearly, this isn't the first time someone has already come to Dick about being the center of the community.
Not just by the batfam, but for everyone Dick is the most beloved person in the community. That is a fact.
(spoilers for EP 1 under the cut)
note: i'll refer to the original nice in this analysis, not lin ling. (we'll talk about him later LOL)
this is purely based off of the official trailers, pv, character concept, and episode one, so my thoughts are subject to change as more episodes are released <3
in nice’s character concept, he’s is shown to be nothing short of a perfectionist. everything has to be perfect: stationary, plates, silverware (or goldware, i suppose) have to be in their rightful positions. all of his belongings are gold, white or fall in a shade of brown, black. even his pillowcase is set in a neat geometric pattern. his hero costume’s color scheme- gold, white, and blue- screams sophistication and poise.
nothing can be out of place- so why choose to die the way he did? it's messy, undignified- and most importantly, public.
what type of fan wants to see their shining hero's brains splattered out on the street? in his hero suit, no less.
nice wanted to permanently tarnish his image of being “perfection incarnate.” he decided to damn himself even further by pointing finger guns at lin before falling- a bittersweet farewell.
despite his endless pursuit of perfection- and having seemingly obtained it (with the title of no.10 hero, his face plastered across every other billboard in the city, and a beautiful girlfriend fitting of his clean, polished image)- i think nice hated himself.
his floor in hero tower is devoid of any personality or sentimentality. the only decor is a piano off to the side, two treadmills (the other presumably meant for moon)- and most importantly, a statue of himself- of nice- in the middle of it all.
offering a palm out to whomever stands before it, the statue almost seems welcoming, friendly. almost. it looks like it belongs in a city hall or museum, not someone's personal residence.
so why keep a statue of himself in his personal living space?
you could theorize he's narcissistic. i mean, people would kill for the prestige tied to the name "nice." (we even get a glimpse of this jealousy in his character promo- hello mysterious stranger.) maybe it inspires him as he steps into another day of being “nice.”
but to me, it’s a reminder fueled by self-loathing.
nice has nothing- is nothing- without being perfect, adored, and envied. he's a former ballet dancer- an art form known for its severe dedication to the craft. we don’t even know his real name. If he can’t be the perfect hero, what is he? And when that image is threatened, what will he do to maintain it?
according to the official trailer 3, nice says he will “use whatever dirty tactics it takes to prevail.” the “villain” we see in his PV calls him out on his hypocrisy, implying that he was involved- or at least knows of some of nice’s misdeeds in the pursuit of perfection.
hell, even his own hero name calls him out. To be nice is to be agreeable, pleasing. niceness is a surface level trait: a veneer meant to cover imperfection and rot. he's not supposed to be kind, much less good.
“Nice” has to be perfect, and whoever held the mantle before lin was unable to afford the cost.