thing is i don't really feel bad for any tma character. i get disappointed when a character i like dies, but i can't observe the series from an "i feel bad for these people" perspective, because it's so damn fascinating to observe it from a thought exercise perspective instead. not "would i feel bad if this bad thing happened to this person", but rather "would this person be bad if they did this thing?" or "if a bad thing happened to a bad person, would they deserve it? is pain something you can deserve?"
which is why malevolent is fucking destroying me because it's not a thought exercise or a philosophical ramble, it's a story. and i'm viewing it from the perspective of "this is a story that i am being told about awful things happening to people".
all of this to say, i feel genuinely bad for arthur lester and i don't know how to deal with that
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If there's one thing I like more than time travel it's crossover reincarnation, so.
Botk link reincarnated as Damian Wayne.
An incredible weapon master of all types, but especially prodigious with a sword - he was beating knights at the age of 4 and with his memories as intact as they get for him I can see that goalpost moving even further (probably with traps and tricks, a 3yo doesn't exactly have great bodily control).
He's an excellent survivalist, agile, strong, durable, cunning and creative. He can move like a feather in the breeze, strike from behind with ease. His first kill, an animal, did not stir him as it did the other children. With his poise, grace, skills, obedience, he ought to be ra'as' finest assassin in the making, a jewel in the crown of the league.
Except he never speaks a word. Half his targets escape unscathed. He skates by true punishment on the merit of his skills and achievements in other missions. Testing has shown it is not a physical deformity that prevents his speech, but not even talia has been able to coaxe a word from him past his second birthday.
It is a defect ra'as is growing more and more frustrated by, as each attempt to fix these two final flaws ends in resounding failure. Less extreme solutions are running dry.
Talia fears those solutions. Her child does too, she knows. For them, there is a possible solution, more extreme than anything ra'as would tolerate.
She sends him out of the league. To his father.
To Gotham.
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He has never been afraid of the night or the shadows that wait within it, has never been bothered by the silence that others deem oppressive. Sometimes, tucked away in his office until the late hours, he feels the quiet of an empty incident room gather 'round his shoulders like the hug of an old friend - familiar and comforting in its stillness. His heart quickens at large crowds and loud parties, lungs aching at the energy to form conversation and fingers curled into sweaty palms until they leave crescent shaped marks in their wake. People, noise, small talk ... those are the things that leave tendrils of fear in his chest that snake their way into the pit of his stomach and sit like heavy boulders, holding ground against whatever courage he tries to rouse.
Tonight, he sits at his desk like always - proud with shoulders rigid and straight as he flips through notes with fingers that are raw from hot water, fingers that he pretends aren't trembling the slightest bit. He's always been good at hiding, at control .. but here and there .. the movement of a page or the click of a pen ... his discipline slips - a corner gets crumpled, a stark white page blooms with an ill placed bot - and the detective does his best to rein it in all the tighter. He's long stopped paying attention to the empty room outside his open office door. The whiteboard looms against the wall, empty and taunting, a stark reminder that their current investigation is getting no where... and Joe stares at his files, ignoring it..stares at the pages of evidence and suspects and testimony until the words swim and the photographs blur .. and all the while he can feel that whiteboard staring at him, whispering...
Catch me if you can.
One palm has moved to his side, pressing against the stiff fabric of a fresh shirt as if testing the sting, fingers tapping the area around the ache like poachers teasing out their prey. It's gotten worse since they arrived back, it's gone from a dull ache to a sharp pain that feels as if the flames of hell themselves are burying their way beneath skin and into muscle and bone... and Joe all but grits his teeth against it. He hadn't been near anything, it was just raw skin from damp fabric - he had been sweating, they all had - it wasn't anything important... making a deal of it would have only led to fodder for more bloody ghost stories. The shadow that suddenly falls across his desk makes him jump, calls forth a squeak of a noise that the detective will absolutely not own up to, and the feel of warmth in his cheeks causes blue eyes to narrow when they look up at the office's assailant.
@gentlemanstarkey: lift up your shirt a little so i can see. (WC)
"Wh-what? What?" The question is indignant, a single word tripping over itself as it waits for him to unravel the others from a tangled up tongue and Joe opens and closes his mouth soundlessly for a moment at the other man's appearance. It occurs to him, suddenly, that his one hand is still pressing against his side, protective of a tender wound that he is still telling himself isn't really there, and he removes it with as much of a relaxed air as he can muster, using suddenly free fingers to rearrange papers to the clearing of his throat.
"It's nothing. I checked in the .. I looked when we got back. Just irritation from my shirt or something, that's all." Blue eyes stay trained on the polished wood before him, jaw set tight against the memory of what he had seen in the mirror. Lines, three of them, angry and raised ridges of crimson that had stood out in stark contrast against his pale skin... he had thought cold water from the tap would soothe them, had taken a damp towel and tried to care for them as best as he knew how ... but with each cool drop, Joe had felt that fire burn all the hotter until the heat felt as if his very bones were turning to ash.
James Starkey is a thorn in his side - a man who by all rights should be an absolutely mad charlatan but instead has proven himself a fount of intelligence and quick thinking time and time again. It's enough to set the younger man's teeth on edge. He can feel it on him now - that silent, judgmental gaze that seemed to see everything .. even the things that Joe wasn't aware he'd been hiding. The younger man knows what awaits if he glances upwards, knows the power of those sharp, piercing eyes that seem to shatter the disguise that's served him for decades with a single flicker... but he finds himself doing it anyhow, brows furrowing in an effort to quiet the sudden lurching of a heart that begins a steady and thunderous rhythm inside the hollow of his chest.
"What are you still doing here? Don't you need a good night's rest to fight whatever evils you find in the archive tomorrow?" There's a snort of laughter at his own joke, a huff of breath that serves as the sound of a man awarding himself a point in the competition he's dreamt up... but Joe is quick to frown soon after. "Seriously, James. As flattered as I am that you've chosen to wait for the opportune moment to appear out of bloody nowhere and ask to see under my shirt ... There's no overtime in it for you." He's angry. He doesn't know why. But the rhythm of his heart is chased by a heat that seems to pulse in time with the wound across his flank and his left hand taps restlessly atop the paper it currently sits on, fighting the instinct to return to where it was pressed against his side. "Go home. Find someone else to study like an experiment. I won't be used as fodder for one of your ... stories... or whatever it is you call them."
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Not be screaming Insanely to you about strollonso again but I have thots. Thinkings. And yeah.
So like I love how everyone expected them to not get well w each other yk like people THOUGHT they would be on each others throats, and nando would commit warcrimes against lance etc etc(Especially after last years Austin incident yeahh....)WHILE they were actually ALREADY on good terms in 2021(the recent gifs that showed lance being like a teenager w crush ykyky)(plus I do remember photos of them interacting just casually) and before that yk when nando congratulated lance on his first podium in baku(which I'll never get out of my head gladly)
And like NOW they are also so well w each other ESPECIALLY now that they are teammates. And its NICE and they are COMFY plus WHAT HAPPENED IM BAHRAIN OFC. And now wih nando casually making lance photos..they are so comfortable. Like aughh.
Thats all I guess please add anything you have in mind aswell 😭😭
Well I think it's funny because, as you mentioned, one of the only pre-2023 moments of strollonso I remember distinctly is when they had the collision during the US gp 😭 and I feel like everyone saw that and were like "oh god Nando is gonna kill him when they're teammates", and then a similar situation kinda happened again at the very first gp when Lance hit the back of Nando but when Nando found out, he's just like "okay :)"
I wonder though sometimes what they'd be like if the AMR23 was like the prev one. Because I do think Nando does actually like Lance, but also I don't think you can deny that Nando's podiums are indeed a buffer. Kinda like him being like "anything you can do to me is literally nothing because I have a great car and I'm doing better than I have in years", like bro is on top of the world after so long, and it feels like he's gotten a second wind where nothing can really touch him or bother him.
I hate how everyone uses that "Lance is the owner's son, so of course Fernando will treat him nicely" argument. Like yeah that's a factor, but I feel like I see it more as Nando appreciating Lance bcs he factors into why Nando has a good car and a good team in the first place. I think tho my fav strollonso plot line is Nando being like "ugh ill put up w him I guess", but then he ends up having such a good car and finds out in the process that Lance is more than he ever considered(like in this fic ) And also the narrative of Nando being a very different, supportive teammate as compared to most other Lance has had. I like that they probably came into being teammates with certain assumptions, but now look at how comfy they are with each other!! Enough to tease each other is such public ways, like Lance saying certain things in interviews and Nando with his socmed. It's very fun!
BUT YEAH OH MY GOD THAT CLIP OF THEM WITH LANCE BEING SO TOUCHY AND SHOVEY WITH HIM!!!! people need to look back at older clips like that and the others you mentioned before they make assumptions about why they are the way they are >:(
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