So I’ve Been Wondering Abt How The Next Conflict Will Unfold After The Current Breather In The Manga…

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.

The AMOUNT of Dick Grayson character ERASURE…

…that occurs to prop up the Bruce Wayne that exists in everyone’s head is just…baffling to me.

Lemme point out that the #TiredDad chasing after everyone, and trying to force them in a get-along shirt so they can actually get shit DONE…who probably has done the most wellness check-ins and evaluations…who gives a stern talking-to when someone has gone off the rails…and gives chances to those who don’t always deserve it…the guy who has heart-to-hearts on rooftops and has the tough talks with people about things not everyone wants to hear…the guy who puts himself LAST and keeps the wrongs done to him to himself…basically the unsung Knight figure in his group and the difficult brooding parent who’s loyal enough and supportive enough to let people make their own choices that either fail or succeed on their own merit, but he’ll be there Regardless…

Dick is HANDS DOWN the Batman that lives Rent Free in everyone’s noodle.

Every time a fan has a headcannon about Bruce as a Dad…about 7/10 GUARANTEED that Dick either has in CANON-ly DONE IT as either Batman or Nightwing.

And that’s the TEA NO ONE on this HELLSITE can actually handle.

the conclave book constantly emphasizes how being a pope is basically a lonely death sentence. cardinals close to being elected pope are isolated out of respect and awe, popes can't go out to eat at their favorite restaurants or go on strolls, they're constantly targeted as the head of the church etc..

the book frames benitez as, literally and symbolically, a 60ish year old boy who has no idea what hes getting into. he stumbles to think of a name when he gets elected pope, begs lomelli to stay with him to guide him, and even the smallest papal clothes literally do not fit him because he's so tiny. he's framed with a childlike awe and openness needed to lead the church through dark and cynical times

i think another genius moment for the movie is that it frames benitez in almost the opposite direction. movie benitez is quiet and contemplative. he likes lomelli, but in the same way an angel would favor a prophet. he's the only one to care about His Holiness' turtles and see their virtue despite their apparent stupidity, which is obviously a reflection of how His Holiness saw the cardinals and the rest of the Kingdom of God. From the very beginning, he is isolated from the other cardinals, never really shown to discuss things with anyone other than lawrence. In the end when he scolds tedesco, you dont get the impression of a wise childlike figure speaking up against a bully, you get the impression of moses telling ramses to let his people go.

and in the end when movie benitez is elected pope, he pauses. he refuses to get dressed until lawrence sees him about the one issue he knows will be a problem. he comes into the papacy knowing he will make a great sacrifice, and he treats it that way.

tldr book benitez is a 60ish year old boy wearing papal clothes too big for him to fully handle, movie benitez is a man walking up cavalry hill, both are my babies, thank you for coming to my ted talk

I get winded by the fact that Dick and Damian fully expected to spend their foreseeable futures as Batman and Robin only for Bruce to come back and have them separate early. It was just a year but also it was spending every day and night together for a decade that just. Didn't come. Instead, Dick will tell Damian he wanted to adopt him and give him his parents' trapeze bar or Damian will feel threatened by Dick potentially having another child and try to hold onto him with all his might. It's a never ending game of chicken, both of them constantly flinching towards a future they'd already accepted, but being so insecure of what they mean to each other now that it didn't happen that they can only ever talk around it. It's clawing at someone you lost but they haven't left you. It's 'you belong to me in a way that you can never belong to anyone else but you're not mine'.

one thing i think is so Neat about atla is how all the main bender characters have an arc that corresponds to their "opposite" element. zuko's arc is about the capacity to change yourself and your worldview, and the culmination of his arc is learning a move inspired by waterbending. katara is all about passion and drive, wanting to become a great waterbender and fight for what she believes in, and over the course of the show she comes into her power. toph's arc involves getting free of her restrictive family and connecting with a community, and aang's arc is about learning to stand fast in his beliefs and confront difficult issues head-on. it's a beautiful bit of symmetry that reinforces the show's point about the illusion of separation

Gojo Satoru is the prime example of a character whose very existence is rooted in weaponisation. His dehumanisation is so severe that it serves as a point of origination for who he really is. And while it is a fact that Gojo, as the strongest sorcerer, cares very little for his inherent weaponisation, it still doesn’t make his character any less tragic. Canonically speaking, Gojo used his weaponisation to bring his long term goals into motion, without his dehumanisation, the narrative would be very fractured. This is why the hidden inventory arc was the rawest, most jarring arc of the entire series because not only does Gojo get a taste of normalcy but gets hooked onto it to the point that he, a weapon of the Jujutsu society, lets a mass murderer roam freely for ten years. Gojo’s weaponisation is tragic when you see it from the lenses of a viewer. Because at his very core, he is human, which is why his blue spring of youth serves as the point where the entire trajectory of the manga changes because it is when he experiences something akin to normalcy. Obviously this doesn’t take away from the fact that Gojo himself uses his weaponisation to his convenience and often asserts himself a weapon to fulfil his motives but it just gives a lot more dimension to his character. He is not someone who pities himself for being a weapon, because he has honed himself as a weapon, along with the very narrative but that doesn’t take away from his innate humanness.

From having a bounty on his head from the moment he was born to experiencing a taste of youth, to loving and living and losing and then dedicating himself to give the next generation of sorcerers the youth they deserve, to fighting and dying by the hands of the strongest. Gojo fulfils his role not only as a weapon but also a human.

I love that, despite how reserved and nice Suo seems on the surface compared to someone like Sakura who’s outwardly gruff and eager to fight, it’s really in your best interest to fight Sakura instead of Suo. At least Sakura will leave you with your dignity mostly intact. Suo isn’t here for a two sided fight conversation, he’s not interested in listening to his opponents, only toying with them and then dropping them once he’s gotten his fun out of them. It’s just such a fun contrast between them

What's interesting about Sakura wanting to fight others is that in the beginning of WBK, he only used to pick fights when he felt threatened or provoked. Think of it as a wounded animal's only defense mechanism (but in a more unserious way).

But with Suo, he not only wanted to fight him, but Sakura declared that they will fight at some point, despite him only observing Suo in action. He didn't necessarily feel threatened, but more-so intrigued/interested despite his criticisms. This is crazy when you consider how ‘reluctant’ Sakura was at getting to know people earlier in the story, and how withdrawn of a character Suo is—coupled with Umemiya’s philosophy of fights being a conversation to get to know your opponent better.

Suo's fights aren't exactly fights in the traditional sense, they're more like one-sided beatdowns haha. Though there is a sadistic undertone with his behavior, I feel like it's more of a hidden/restrained anger that he takes out on his opponents. KEEL is the most obvious example, but I really do find it interesting how Suo remained rather respectful to Kaito before he started yapping about how wrecking havoc is fun.

Unlike Suo though, Sakura is more likely to treat you with some modicum of respect since you're either a small fry to take care of, or a challenge that he wants to understand better (ie. following Ume's advice). Their personalities are reflected in their fighting styles—Sakura is straightforward and direct, while Suo remains passive and likes to ridicule others occasionally.

Suo and Sakura have tons of contrast with each other — I like to joke that Suo is an 'Anti-Sakura' in a way, because their differences are so stark when you compare these two together. In fact, I’d argue the only similarities that are specifically unique to them are their ‘irregular’ eyes. I could make a whole write-up on how opposing they are in WBK, but I don’t want to get too carried away here lol

Aldo Bellini's cross: an analysis

As we know, each cross in Conclave has a unique design and meaning that reflects the character they're designed for.

The main symbol on Bellini's cross is the pelican. According to many ancient legends (pre dating Christianity) the pelican was believed to pierce its own breast with its beak to feed its offspring with its blood, so early Christians adopted it as a symbol of Jesus Christ sacrificing himself for mankind.

The most immediate explanation is that the pelican represents Bellini: he's the righteous cardinal who doesn't want the papacy, who sees it as a burden that will most likely destroy him, but who, at the same time, feels like he has to become Pope in order to prevent Tedesco from winning. In other words, he feels like he has to sacrifice himself in order to save the Church.

However, the quote engraved on the back of the cross reveals something more, something deeper. The quote comes from a hymn written by Thomas Aquinas in 1264, titled “Adoro te devote”.

Pie pellicane, Iesu Domine, / me immundum munda tuo sanguine.

Good pelican, Lord Jesus, / clean me, the unclean, with your blood.

It's a prayer TO the good pelican from the point of view of a sinner who feels unclean, impure.

And that's how Bellini constantly sees himself: as unworthy, as dirty. His whole character is built around this sense of shame, self loathing and self-doubt, which he must shoulder alone and which is at the centre of his (torturous?) relationship with God.

The quote is hidden on the back of the cross, it's private, it's for Bellini's eyes only, his shame is between himself and the Lord, the only one who can save him, who can clean him.

And of course you can read this however you like but it's definitely one more thing to be added to the list of gay undertones in Bellini's character.

One last thing (and this is probably my biggest reach but indulge me): I noticed that in the scene where Bellini finally admits his shame to Lawrence his cross is facing backwards.

This movie is so meticulous with its details and symbolism that I'm almost 100% sure that it was made (or left like that) on purpose.

In the scene Lawrence (and the audience with him) is finally given access to Bellini's inner turmoil. Bellini is baring those parts of himself he's so ashamed of to the person he cares about the most, so it's only fitting that his words and actions are accompanied by this subtle, yet powerful symbolism.

My favorite thing about reading Dicks thought process vs literally how everyone else views him.

This is the least exaggerated version of this I will willing produce.

-older gen JL: thinks wing is dependable, charming, intelligent and a great leader, impressed how much he’s grown and how well he’s done in the hero world

Heroes his age: the golden standard that everyone tries to match up to and fails at one point in their sidekick-hood before accepting yeah I’m not Dick Grayson and having him lead them in a hero team. The defacto person to look towards in a crisis situation, manages tasks efficiently and doesn’t let personal details affect him. He’s cool, calm and collected while still being the most empathetic man on the planet.

Heroes younger than him: straight up awe. if the heroes who saw his awkward teenage phase, discowing and are privy to his love life info. How do you think people who just saw ‘Mr perfect’ without any of the painful growth to get there and since about 9 billion things have happened since Dick was Robin people have too much to talk about to ever bring it up. I see their thought processes going something like this

-oh my god is that nightwing like THE nightwing like Robins big brother nightwing like the leader of the titans nightwing is he looking at me oh my god he smiled at me wtf wtf wtf until they hyperventilate

(Source how Kow talks about dick Grayson like 99% of the time- ignore all Dan Dido works )

Batkids: awe with a side of insecurity bc that’s the gold standard and how tf are you supposed to get there. Even if you’re an amazing fighter like Cass, the leadership skills, ability to talk people down, make more allies than enemies, infiltrate, lie, cheat, steal, put on a million different masks and come out whole.

How does he know what he’s doing? How does he look so calm and collected when the worlds ending

Batman and Superman (remember when they co-parented in the 60s yeah me neither): like uncomfortable amounts of pride like the type of pride that feels too big for your chest as well as implicit trust.

For B specifically Dick is his crowing achievement as Batman

VS

Dick Grayson at any given moment pre Tom Taylor run: everything is my fault, I suck at everything, I’m never good enough to stop bad things from happening to the people I love it’s all my fault and I will never be able to stop it. My life is an accidental trolly problem except I didn’t know it when I started, I didn’t mean to press any levers I didn’t know what I was doing I am a burden who must make himself useful as an apology.

Like Dick is in a constant spiral of how much he hates his limits and how he just isn’t ever going to be strong,fast,smart or good enough while everyone is staring at him with heart eyes like omg it’s nightwing <3

sometimes i sit and wish zoro had a ‘hat moment,’ like nami’s in arlong park, usually just as an extension of me wanting zoro content. but i’ve been thinking about it, zoro and luffy’s straw hat, and realised just how many times he has either caught it or been trusted to hold it.

zoro doesn’t need a shifting character moment that impacts his relationship with the crew because he doesn’t have anything in his backstory that hinders his openness with them. as far as we can tell, there is nothing subdued and hurting in his past that needs addressing. if any of the strawhats asked, i think he would easily tell them about kuina, his parents, the dojo, if they don’t know already.

zoro being trusted to hold luffy’s hat, to catch it over open waters when it’s dangerous for luffy to, etc, it speaks so hugely about zoro and luffy. zoro doesn’t need the anchoring support it has, instead he acts as a person luffy trusts to protect it.

in a lot of ways, luffy’s strawhat is an extension of himself, his strawhat is him. it’s what makes the moment in arlong park so special, it makes every moment it’s in danger so terrifying. he’s straw hat luffy. in fact, many enemies, friends and acquaintances refer to him as just that- straw hat.

luffy’s trust in zoro to hold his treasure, a piece of himself, is so special. it perfectly sums up their relationship, their trust and their willingness for vulnerability with each other. luffy allows zoro to protect him, and zoro would catch him every time.

zoro not having a ‘hat moment,’ instead having multiple where he holds it in tricky situations instead, it makes sense. luffy leans on zoro, he allows himself to be supported. though not shown, i am sure zoro would be equally comfortable for luffy to hold onto wado if he couldn’t.

luffy physically handing over a part of himself to zoro, a part that i am sure he values over a limb if need be, it’s so telling. he repeatedly trusts zoro with his life many times, yet somehow giving him his straw hat feels just as special.

zoro doesn’t need the comfort of the hat, he’s able to offer the opposite instead. luffy is comforted with the knowledge it’s in his hands.