I just LOVE this outfit wish they tease it in a posible Devil May Cry 1 remake since iIt's used in the game's arts as the clothing Lady would wear during that time.
In the second one i tried to imitate retro poster vibes.
Done watching Devil May Cry Season 2 on Netflix. To commemorate, here’s a fan art of the twin Dante & Vergil that I’ve made beforehand ☺️
Just like season 1, I also had fun with season 2. I still love the original Devil May Cry video game series the most. So, I’m just having fun with the anime adaptation.
DMC 4 is my most beloved DMC game, since it’s the game that brought me to venture the world of video games for the first time.
If John's sons had died in the fire with Mary and John became a hunter, saved two orphan boys, and raised them like he did Sam and Dean... would you still say he's a terrible father?
I mean at that point he's basically Batman but I dont see nearly as much hate calling Bruce Wayne a terrible parent.
Obviously they're both peak examples of Dads that made shitty choices but fucked up as those kids are, they're still heroes...
I think what makes the two situations different, and puts Bruce further up on the moral high ground, is that Bruce saw the robin mantle as a way to create an outlet for the pain and suffering they experienced, with the exception being Tim, of course. And even then, Tim actively chose that role, while on the flip side…
Sam and Dean did not get a choice in how they were raised. John also did not think about how raising Sam and Dean like he did would affect them. Unlike Bruce, the boys were not on the forefront of his mind, or if they were, he may have believed that getting revenge will help them just as much as he thinks it will help himself.
Now, am I the biggest John hater out there? No. Out of all the fictional dads out there, so many more outrank him in terms of shittines. However, I definitely think John can, and should be critiqued for his selfish search for revenge.
I love rebuttals/discussions! Isn't that part of why we're all here 😊
Other than Tim, idk if the bat boys really had a choice, their chance at a "normal" life was taken from them all at a young age. If John hadn't started hunting, I feel like at some point Dean would have gone searching for revenge like Dick did.
When the options are
take the shit life deals to you and not do anything about it
make sacrifices, kick some ass and be a hero
Is it really even a choice for an angry young boy?
As far as the bat boys being the forefront of Bruce's mind, I guess it depends on which storylines you read. Batman did have a tendency to treat his Robins as tools, and let the mission take priority over what was best for the boys. Control under the guise of "protection" is a common theme either way.
CHARACTERS: Beau Arlen and Russell Shaw (but I made them twins)
SETTING: AU - literally just dropped the characters’ personalities into a movie script I wrote 20 yrs ago
PAIRINGS: Beau x fem!reader, Russell x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Oops banged both of them… shit happens 🤷♀️
WARNINGS: PG (not smut), extremely slow burn, flirting, teasing, a little lust, intoxication, meet-cute, regrets, sibling banter, boss/employee power dynamic trope, sexual innuendo, self-deprecating thoughts (reader), cussing, some drug use (weed)
A/N: Tiny nods to Dark Angel and Supernatural. I’m conflicted on the whole 1st vs 2nd person thing so I tried a neutral-ish route that is kinda both but it came out more like stage direction and excessive internal monologue.
Note on bracket usage: [reader actions] and <text message>
BACKSTORY:
Reader has been a Records Clerk at Graham County Sheriff's Office in the small rural town of Safford, AZ for a few years. Sheriff Beau Arlen is new in town and no one seems to know much about him. He craftily avoids personal questions with stereotypical Texan charm.
Reader hosts a birthday party for one of the deputies at her home and invites everyone, including the new Sheriff. Beau arrives when the party is in full swing, then leaves after a few hours. About an hour after all the guests have left, Reader hears a knock at the door…
*** Saturday night ***
[Looks through the peep hole in the door and sees Sheriff Beau, then opens the door.]
“Sheriff?”
“Hey, did I leave my knife here by chance?” He seems a little flustered.
“I don't know. I was just starting to clean up a bit, but you're welcome to take a look for it.”
[Walks away from the door, leading him into the living room.]
“Thanks.” He steps through the doorway and closes the door behind him.
After a few minutes of searching, he finds the pocket knife under some napkins.
“Got it,” he says plainly.
“You know, I could've just brought it to you on Monday.”
“Yeah I know, but it's like an anxiety comfort kinda thing,” he explains.
“Like a security blanket.” [Smiles playfully.]
“No. Well, kinda… I guess,” he concedes, slightly embarrassed.
“Hey if that knife is your version of a fidget spinner, it's a healthier outlet for stress than a lot of other options.”
“Very true.” He almost starts to say more, then thinks better of it. “Do you need any help cleaning up?” he points around the messy living room.
“No, it's fine, I'll get it done eventually. But I was just finishing up some rum balls if you want to be my taste tester?”
“Rum balls?” He seems confused.
“Yeah, I didn't want to keep all these nearly empty bottles and I'm not gonna let good booze go to waste, so I'm putting the leftovers to good use.”
“Makes sense, lead the way.” He follows into the kitchen.
“So instead of cleaning the living room, you decided to make an even bigger mess in the kitchen?” Every counter top is covered with food processor accessories, powdered sugar, and cookie crumbs.
“You gotta make a mess to clean a mess, right?”
Beau laughs. “Pretty sure that's not how it works.”
“Well I have ADHD, so that's how it works when I try to clean. I get distracted easily. My life is a never-ending series of unfinished projects. Now have a seat and taste this.”
Beau sits in the bar stool at the counter and grabs a rum ball off the plate. He coughs after just one bite. “Um, maybe a little strong.”
“Really? I didn't think so… I guess I could throw in a splash of milk or crush up those leftover cashews… could you bring me that dish off the coffee table?”
Beau returns with the snack tray from the living room, then sits down again.
[Hums along to the music that's still playing from the party and zooms around the kitchen adding ingredients into the food processor, then rolls the dough balls through corn syrup and powdered sugar.]
Beau watches with amusement.
“Since that knife is so important to you, how'd you forget it?”
“I used it to open something for Lucas, then Val knocked over that bowl of chips, and I don't know, guess it just never made it back into my pocket.” He pulls out the knife and looks over it thoughtfully. “Didn't realize it was missing until I needed it at home,” he explained, his brow furrowing.
[Looks at the switch blade while handing Beau the newest rum balls.]
“Is that an engraving? Initials?”
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “It belonged to my old partner back in Texas. He passed, in the line of duty.”
“I'm so sorry to hear that Beau. I understand wanting to keep it close.” [Sighs.] “Nothing worse than the what-if game.”
Beau looks confused. Now it's his turn pressing for more details.
“When I was young, a friend died right in front of me after a quad accident in the desert. So I know it's hard not to blame yourself or constantly run through a million things you could've done that might have yielded a different outcome.”
“Yeah.” Beau looks relieved to hear his own thoughts echoed from the person standing in front of him.
[Grabs two glasses and pours some whiskey into each of them.]
“At first, I felt like he was haunting me. Took me a while to realize that it was my own obsessive thoughts that were haunting me. You know how they say the final stage of grief is acceptance? I hated that idea because I'll never accept that was how my friend's life was meant to end. But then someone told me, it wasn't what happened that night that I needed to accept. The fact I needed to accept was that there's nothing I can do about it now. All the over-analysis and wishful thinking in the world wouldn't bring him back, so I couldn't let those thoughts control my life.”
“Yeah I haven't quite reached that point of acceptance yet. That's actually why I left Texas. Thought a change of scenery might help,” he fakes a small smile before finishing the whiskey in his glass.
[Puts hand on his arm.] “That's not accepting hon, that's running.”
[Notices the rum balls are gone and points to the empty plate.] “I take it that batch was better?”
“Oh yeah, they're really good,” his smile is genuine this time. “But I should probably get going.”
“Oh hell no. If you think I'm just gonna let you leave after that trauma dump, you're out of your damn mind. No, we are going to make some munchies and watch TV with my friends Mary Jane and Jimmy Beam until we feel better.”
“You do know I'm the sheriff, right?” He smirks.
“What, you're gonna arrest me?” Shit, stop flirting with him dumbass. “It's medicinal. I have anxiety and the prescription to prove it.”
“Uh huh…” His smile indicates that he's not worried about it.
“Go pick out a comedy while I make some popcorn.”
Beau refills his glass, grabs the plate of rum balls, and obediently disappears into the living room.
That's surprising… I thought he would've protested more or tried to leave again.
[Walks into the living room with the bottle of whiskey and a large bowl of chocolate and butter drizzled popcorn and plops down next to Beau on the couch.]
“Whatcha pick?”
Beau points to the screen where the title Good Luck Chuck is displayed.
[Raises eyebrows.] “Have you ever seen it?”
“No, but I recognize that actress,” he replies.
Internal Angel: You should warn him some scenes may be awkward to watch.
Internal Devil: Fuck no! Just wait and see if he squirms (evil giggle)
“Works for me. Start ‘er up.”
*** Sunday morning ***
Sunlight peaks around the edges of the closed curtains.
Uh my head… Guess it's morning…
[Shifts to roll over, then freezes upon feeling another body in the bed.]
Fuck! That wasn't a dream?! That actually happened?! And he's still here… in my bed.
This is not good. Actually it was fucking amazing. But how the fuck am I supposed to go to work and not have flashbacks of his face between my thighs everytime I see him from now on??
[Gingerly slides out of bed and tiptoes into the bathroom. Closes the door most of the way but peeks at him through the remaining inch that's still ajar. Stares at his profile as he sleeps soundly.]
Okay, think… is there any way to make this not awkward? Maybe if he hears me in the shower, he'll just leave and I won't have to face him…
[Turns shower on, then peeks out the bathroom door to see if he stirs.]
No movement. Shit, what do I have to ‘pretend’ to drop a shampoo bottle or something?
[Gets in the shower while contemplating the situation.]
After a few minutes, there are sounds of movement coming from the other room.
Ok moment of truth… what's your move Beau?
Finally his voice calls out from the bedroom, “Hey, I gotta head out.”
“Ok I'll see you later!” Yeah, that's about what I expected. I'd be stupid to hope for anything more.
*** Sunday afternoon ***
Panicked spiraling escalates. Should I text him? What the fuck do I say??
< I still have the song from that movie stuck in my head LOL >
*** Several hours later ***
No response from him. I'm so fucked.
[Deep breath.] No, I can handle this. I'm not gonna bring it up unless he does. Otherwise we'll just act like it never happened.
"Ya done messed up A-a-ron." The quote from the Key & Peele skit seems especially appropriate right now.
*** Monday morning ***
Just bury yourself in busywork. Act normal and everything will be fine. Like a duck on the pond, calm on the surface and no one will know what chaos is happening underwater.
Beau strolls in chatting with one of the detectives. “Morning,” he calls out with a slight wave as they walk past. A perfect friendly, professional greeting just like he has done every other day for the past two months.
“Good morning!” Okay, good job. That totally sounded normal. I can handle this… right?
*** Thursday afternoon ***
[Walks into Beau's office while flipping through some documents in a folder.]
“Beau, do you… WHAT THE FU–” Why are there two sets of those sparkling green eyes staring back at me right now? Am I dreaming??
“Hey! I told you I was a twin, right?” Beau is not even bothering to hide his amusement.
“Um… no. You mentioned that you had a younger brother.”
“Younger by four minutes.” The twin throws a skeptical look towards his brother.
“This is Russell,” Beau says nonchalantly. “Did you need something?”
“Uh, I was just gonna ask if you still need the Menendez information or can I file it away?” [Eyes darting back and forth rapidly between the two men.]
Beau steps out from behind his desk. “I'll take it, there's still one more thing I want to look into with that one.”
“Ok.”
[Hands him the file and turns to leave the office.]
“Nice meeting you,” Russell’s deep voice is anything but casual.
[Briefly glances back and sees Russell's cocky smile and Beau rolling his eyes.]
“You too.”
[Throws a tiny smile and a quick wave, then scurries out of the room.]
Identical twins?? What the actual fuck? Thank goodness I'm heading to San Diego tomorrow for my friend's birthday weekend because I have to talk to someone about this crap and it sure can't be anyone in this town.
*** Sunday evening ***
While driving back to Safford, the Jeep overheats on the most deserted part of Interstate 8. A quick inspection with a flashlight reveals a cracked radiator, and it's not a hairline crack, it's major.
Shit. There's no way I can drive it without risking serious engine damage.
After a Google search and a phone call to the nearest towing company, there's nothing to do but wait.
I wish I could push the car further off the road so I don't have to worry about someone hitting me. I know the safest thing to do is stay in the car, seatbelt fastened. I should put some glow sticks out though so I don't have to listen to the flashers blinking for the next 4 or 5 hours while I wait for the tow truck.
After sitting in silence for about 20 mins, a car approaches.
Please don't stop. Maybe if I duck down they'll think the car's abandoned and just keep driving.
But the sky was cloudless, the moon bright, and even with the rag top up, the Jeep is practically a fish bowl. Not much chance of hiding.
The car pulls side-by-side next to the Jeep and stops. It's an old black convertible Chevy with the top down. Even in the dark, it's easy to recognize the driver.
“Need a hand?” He calls out over the sound of his engine.
“All good, thanks!” Please don't recognize me.
The Chevy backs up and pulls to the side of the road behind the Jeep.
Shit.
[Climbs out of the Jeep.]
Russell gets out of the Chevy and smiles. “Thought I recognized you… car trouble?”
[Fills him in on the radiator and tow situation.]
“I could give you a ride.”
“But… my Jeep… I can't just leave her all alone out here.”
Russell chuckles. He understands the sentiment better than most.
“So, guess we're just waiting here then?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Oh no, I can't ask you to do that. I'll be fine.”
“You won't leave your car alone, but you expect me to leave you alone out here?” He saunters closer.
“Fair point.” Crap.
[Backs up and sits on the Jeep's rear bumper.]
Russell looks up at the stars. “At least it's nice out.”
“Yeah a nice cool 90 degrees.” [Heavy on the sarcasm.]
“Could be worse.” He seems deep in thought. “So what's up with you and my brother?” he asks after a moment.
Well that's a helluva segue. “What do you mean? We work together.”
“Uh huh… so that's it? Just coworkers?”
I'm probably the only person in Safford that knows why Beau left Texas, but his identical twin never was somehow never mentioned. “Well I'm not sure I could say that we're friends since I didn't even know he had a twin.”
Russell chuckles again, clearly enjoying the sarcastic tone. ”What are you doin’ out here anyway?”
Please stop eyeing me up and down like that. I know my comfy driving clothes are skimpy, but damn dude. “I'm just on my way back from visiting a friend in San Diego. What about you?”
“Heading out to Portland for a job but had some time to kill, so I decided to take the scenic route.”
“What kind of job?”
“Helping out a buddy with a military contract. Transportation security kinda thing.” He shrugs and starts to head back towards his car.
What does that even mean? Is he intentionally making that sound shady? “When's the last time you saw Beau?”
“Been a few years. I travel a lot. Just me and my baby.” He pats the Chevy affectionately and leans against the front fender.
“She’s beautiful. ‘65?”
[Can't resist the magnetic pull and starts walking toward the Chevy for a better look.]
“Yeah,” he smiles and walks around to open the passenger door. “Hop in.”
Why'd he have to walk so close to me? He smells amazing. Damn, my addiction to classic cars is always getting me in trouble. “It's so clean.”
Russell walks around and gets in the driver's seat. “What, your car's not?”
“It's a Jeep. It's not supposed to be clean.”
[Stretches out in the passenger seat and looks up at the stars.]
Russell appreciates the view.
Damn this guy and his wandering eyes. “Have you eaten?”
“Why, are you tryin’ to feed me?” he asks suggestively, then laughs at the incredulous look he receives in response. “Yeah, I had dinner with Beau right before I got on the road. You?”
“Same. Had dinner with my friend before I left. Had a couple drinks too, so ended up leaving later than I intended.”
He turns on the stereo and Journey's ‘Don't Stop Believing’ is playing.
“Speaking of small town girls, have you always lived in Safford?” he asks coyly.
This motherfucker thinks he's so smooth (‘cause he is). Damn my conflicting inner thoughts. Now is the time to listen to the angel on your shoulder, not the damn devil on the other shoulder. “Yep, my whole life. Born and raised.”
“Don't you ever want to get out and see the world?” he asks.
“Ha! With what money?”
“Maybe you need a sugar daddy?”
“You offering?”
“No,” he answered quickly while shaking his head.
“Didn't think so. Maybe one day it'd be cool to see Paris or Tokyo, but honestly, I'm happy in Safford. I've got everything I need.”
“Everything you need, but what about everything you want?” He's fishing for more clues.
“Yeah yeah I know ‘content isn't happy.’ But come on, how many people can honestly say they are truly happy? Society has shaped us to always strive for more, to never settle… content is good enough for me. For right now anyway.”
“Yeah I get that. I'm still trying to figure out my end game.”
Russell continues chatting about his ideas of maybe opening a bar or a gun range.
His hair is longer and darker than Beau's. His beard is slightly thicker. But he's got the same glowing green eyes, and like his brother, I can tell he's seen some crazy shit. Maybe even more than Beau.
The conversation leads back to cars. He seemed impressed. “So you're a bit of a gear head huh?”
“A little.” [Laughs] “Want to know something kinda embarrassing?”
“Definitely,” he leans closer like he's waiting to hear a major revelation.
“I used to hang out at the tire shop in town because I loved the smell so much.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I used to say that I wanted to bottle the smell and make it into a cologne. I know it's weird but I think it's the sexiest smell in the world.” Maybe if he thinks I'm weird, he'll stop flirting with me.
He laughs. “It almost sounds like you like cars more than men.”
“Oh for sure. It's no contest.” Damn it, stop teasing him. You're not helping.
“Careful, I might take that as a challenge.” He inches even closer.
“Says the man who's just passing through.”
“Eh, who needs tomorrow when you've got tonight?” And there's that cocky grin again.
[Laughs] “Does that line usually work for you?”
“On occasion,” he says with a sudden intensity in his eyes.
Crap. [Looks away.] “Maybe I should go back to my car, I'm kind of a mosquito magnet.” [Grabs the door handle.]
“Probably means you taste good.”
“Damn it, I walked right into that one!” [Quickly climbs out of the car.]
He chuckles again. “Yeah you kinda did, but here I'll put the top up.”
He gets out of the car and starts to pull the fabric top up to the windshield.
A large semi-truck slows as it drives by and Russell waves them on.
[Looking at the Jeep.] “I wish I had pulled over more.”
“Want to push it a bit further away from the road?”
“Yeah, if you wouldn't mind…”
“You steer, I'll push.”
[Hops in the Jeep and puts it in neutral.] “Ready.”
Russell starts to push.
“Think that's good?”
“I'd say so,” he confirms as he wipes his hands on his jeans.
[Gets out of the Jeep and trips over a dry bush.]
“Shit.” [Bends over to inspect the scratches.]
Russell saunters over to see what happened. “You ok?”
“Yeah, it's only bleeding a little. I've got a first aid kit.”
[Leans into the Jeep and pulls the driver's seat forward. Feels around under the backseat for the mini med kit.]
“I have one in my car if you can't find yours,” he offers.
“I doubt yours has Benadryl cream.”
[Stands up on running board to reach further into the Jeep.]
“Oh now you're just being mean,” he says with a big smile.
“Sorry that came out harsher than I meant… I'm just frustrated and stubborn.”
“No, I meant putting your ass cheeks in my face.”
Way to go, genius. These tiny shorts are giving him a full, eye-level view right now.
[Luckily finds med kit right at that moment and quickly clambers out of the Jeep. Pulls the driver's seat back to its normal position, then sits in the seat and unzips the kit, while trying to ignore what just happened.]
Meanwhile Russell continues to watch every move with that interested smirk.
How does he manage to look like a curious kid and a mischievous cheshire cat at the same time?
[Pulls out an alcohol wipe and begins to blot the red scratches. Grabs mini flashlight from the glove box to get a better look. Struggles to hold the flashlight and wipe without spilling the contents of the first aid kit.]
“You gonna let me help you now?” Russell asks.
“Fine.”
[Hands him the alcohol wipe and sticks out leg while aiming the flashlight at the red marks.]
Russell wipes the scratches tenderly, then leans over to blow the sting away, his lips dangerously close to the sensitive skin.
Tell him to back off. Tell him he doesn't need to get that close. Say something!
“Better check the other leg too,” he muses.
[Obediently sticks out other leg and shines the flashlight on it.]
He stoops even lower, carefully inspecting every inch of skin, despite his hair hanging in his eyes.
[Leans forward to brush his hair behind his ear. Then immediately retracts hand and leans back.]
The fuck was that? What the fuck are you doing??
“Just trying to help.” [Smiles shyly.]
But that slight touch was all the invitation Russell needed. Suddenly he rises to his full height and steps closer.
[Breaks the intense eye contact and digs in the med kit for allergy cream. Finds the tube and unscrews the cap.]
“I got it,” Russell says, taking the tube. He notices hives have started to form around the scratches. “How can someone who grew up in the desert be allergic to tumbleweed?”
“I don't know… never built up a tolerance I guess.”
Russell gingerly applies cream to the hives, then puts out his hand, silently asking for the cap. He seals the tube and places it back in the med kit. “Better?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you.” [Zips the kit closed and tosses it into the backseat, still trying to avoid his gaze.]
He's practically standing in my lap. Is he ever going to back up? Oh shit… no, don't do that… don't lift my chin and force me to meet your eyes.
But that's exactly what he did.
“You're staring.”
“Am I bothering you?” he asks rhetorically.
He knows damn well I'm enjoying this. The feeling of his rough fingers, one hand on my thigh, the other still under my chin.
“No.”
Shit. I just gave him a green light, didn't I?
His hand moves from your thigh to your lower back, pulling you into his embrace. His other hand tugs your face to his and he kisses you. Soft, at first, more gentle than you expected. Suddenly he has both hands under you and lifts you out of the Jeep. Your legs instinctively wrap around him. He supports you with one arm wrapped under your ass, and slams the Jeep door shut with his free hand, his lips never leaving yours. He carries you over to the Chevy, opens the passenger door, and slides the passenger seat forward. All one-handed while still holding you.
“Impressive.”
He laughs and pushes you into the backseat.
The angel on your shoulder is screaming. STOP! This is so wrong. You just slept with his brother last weekend, you slut.
“Maybe we shouldn't do this…”
The devil on your shoulder is making excuses.
But it feels so good. He feels so good. You don't want him to stop. You want this as much as he does. Beau only slept with you because he was drunk and feeling vulnerable. It practically doesn't even count.
“I won't tell if you don't,” Russell teases.
*** A few hours later ***
Russell is talking to the tow truck driver and helping him load the Jeep onto the flatbed. It's nearly sunrise and the sky has already begun to brighten.
[Grabs shoes from under the passenger seat and climbs out of the car.]
Russell strolls over with excessive swagger. “Mornin’ doll,” he says with his signature cocky grin. “So he's gonna drop you at the nearest mechanic?”
“Yeah even if they can't replace the radiator, a patch should be enough for me to make it the rest of the way home.”
“So I guess this is where we part ways then?”
“Yep.”
He leans in to place a kiss on your cheek. “Will I see you again next time I pass through?” he whispers.
“Maybe.”
He purses his lips. “Let me see your phone.”
[Unlocks phone and hands it to Russell.]
He saves his number in the contact list. “Text me once you're back in Safford, so I know you made it home safe.”
[Trying very hard to feign disinterest.] “Fine.”
He smirks, gets into his Chevy and throws a little wave as he drives off.
*** Monday evening ***
[Looks at phone and sees that Russell saved his number under the name “Russ the Stud” and texted himself from your phone. Rolls eyes.]
< Home safe now >
After a few minutes, his reply is delivered.
< Glad to hear it hun >
< Thank you waiting for the tow truck with me. It was nice to have company. >
< It was my pleasure >
Ugh… what have I done?
*** five weeks later, Tuesday morning ***
Beau is still acting like nothing happened. Occasionally, flirty texts arrive from Russell but mostly they are just updates on his location. He really does travel constantly.
Suddenly an intense wave of nausea hits you out of nowhere and you have no choice but to grab the trash can next to your desk and heave into it. Your coworker Beth rushes to your side.
“Oh honey, are you sick?” she asks.
“I don't think so. Must be something I ate.”
“Maybe you're pregnant,” Beth teases with a laugh.
“What?! Of course not! Trust me that's physically impossible.” You add a laugh to make it more believable.
[Peeks up towards Beau's office, hoping that his door is shut. No such luck. Beau is standing in the doorway with a slightly panicked look on his face.]
*** Tuesday evening ***
[At home, sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at the three pregnancy tests that all say the same thing.]
“I am so screwed…”
A/N: Thoughts? Too much dialog, not enough payoff? It was originally written as a movie… If anyone wants to write sex scenes for this I will happily add them in and give you credit. Or feel free to use these ideas/dialogue in your own stuff, just tag me so I can read it too 🥰
Maybe I'll rewrite it the normal 2nd person way. I'm sure other writers have tried to do a reader insert without using “you/your” before (please share if you know of any examples).
Disclaimer: All characters, music, tv/film quotes/references belong to their respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.
If John's sons had died in the fire with Mary and John became a hunter, saved two orphan boys, and raised them like he did Sam and Dean... would you still say he's a terrible father?
I mean at that point he's basically Batman but I dont see nearly as much hate calling Bruce Wayne a terrible parent.
Obviously they're both peak examples of Dads that made shitty choices but fucked up as those kids are, they're still heroes...
you know that face infants make when they're mostly asleep and you take the boob/bottle out of their mouth and their lip twitches cause their still expecting the nipple to be there... we call it milk-drunk face and it looks just like that ☝🏻
So I've been seeing casting rumors about the upcoming James Gunn Batman movie The Brave and the Bold and now I want to build an ideal/dream Batfam cast...
Bruce - I know that Jensen would be a good Batman, but wondering if anyone thinks there's another actor that might be better?
Dick - I've always thought Robbie Amell would be a great Nightwing, but idk he might be too old now...
Jason - I loved Curran Walters as young Jason (he's so talented and kicked ass in that role, definitely gives me young JarPad vibes, I dont understand how he doesnt get bigger roles with that jawline that could cut glass and those lips 🥵) but I think he's too skinny to play post-lazpit Jason. We need someone with like an Alan Ritchson build but younger. Suggestions?
Tim - Jay Lycurgo did a good job and I wouldn't mind seeing him as Timmy again, but I'd be open to others
Damian - This is a super hard role to cast, any ideas?
DC timelines are wack so its impossible to tell how old everyone is but here's my estimated age ranges so trying to find actors that fit these ages:
Batman 45-50
Dick 26-36
Barbara 28-38
Jason 20-30
Tim 17-20
Damian 10-14
Steph 17-20
Cass 18-21
Duke 16-18
Look, I’m as much of a canon purist as anyone, but one thing that does irritate me is when other canon purists shit on people they deem “fanon fans who’ve never read the source material” because they “over-exaggerate” the interpersonal relationships between characters.
Now, don’t get me wrong, the vast majority of comic book families are at best dysfunctional, and at worst held together with questionable legality and duct tape, and none of them are like what you find in Wayne Family Adventures. BUT!!!! it’s also crucially important to me that people realise that the vast majority of relationship building in comic books happen off-panel.
Like sure, the Bats probably aren’t standing together and singing kumbaya, but it’s also not necessarily non-canon to suggest that they do have more of a sibling/friendly relationship than what we generally see on page. Just off the top of my head, we get minor references to the Dick and Jason ski trip; Jason and Tim joking about Alfred’s waffles together; the Jason, Steph, and Cass anti-Valentine’s Day dance party; Steph meeting Jason for coffee before he leaves on a plane and calling him her friend; Tim and Damian promising to still hang out even if Tim’s on sabbatical; the Batfamily group chat which has been shown to be active in multiple titles and issues. All of which implies that there was relationship building which we as readers simply were not privy to. Like sure, I don’t think that characters like Jason and Cass would be close, but it’s also important to note that comic writers are often limited to something like 20 pages – it’s up to readers to fill in the gaps with the snippets we do get, and doing so doesn’t make you a LARPer or a fake-fan.
