I think the reason why I like Battinson so much is because I feel like this version of Bruce is the most likely to cry when it comes to like, anything, but especially his kids.
I always make jokes about how all it takes is for one mean comment from his kids for Bruce to start absolutely bawling, but I actually could see this happening with Battinson, but instead of crying when his kids bully him, he just cries when they do, well, anything.
Like this man looks like he's about to cry 24/7, so imagine him with 6 hyperactive, intelligent, sassy and adorable children?? He would not survive, they'd tear him apart, but especially with overwhelming love lmao
Everytime he signs adoption papers, he cries. Doesn't matter if he's done it a million times.
His kids want him to read them a bedtime story? He's holding back tears.
Kids want a hug? Totally not crying haha.
Seeing any of his kids with various accomplishments? Tears of pride, no matter how many achievements they reach.
Kid gently implies they'd like to be left alone? Bruce is immediately all "oh no they hate me I did something wrong what did i do do i apologize should i tell them i love them am i a bad parent-" He def has separation anxiety with all of his kids.
Basically anytime any of them call him "dad"? He's hiding in his study to cry out all the overflowing affection within him.
Like I genuinely feel like this Bruce would be the most emotionally vulnerable with his kids. Like he'd be SO soft with them. I bet he's always happy to do little things for/with them, like brushing their hair, eating breakfast with them, watching TV, playing with Legos, etc.
I could see him being the most attentive father, always being cautious and trying to make sure he's doing everything right as a parent. I need to see him cuddle his kids.
DC needs to let Battinson have a Robin because I know that man would drop anything for his children.
and dont get me started on how absolutely devastated this Bruce would be if one of his kids got hurt (and imagine how anguished he becomes after Jason's death)
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When you love your friend's au so much that you write fanfic for it
Based on @punkinspice's @shadouge-family-au
***
Everyone froze as the glass shattered on the floor.
Then little three-year-old Monty started crying because it scared him, quickly followed his twin sister Mabel, who cried because he was crying. Chase (who was five, almost six) simply looked at the glass mess and said “Oh oh.”
Amy tiptoed around the kitchen table to reach the crying twins, soothing them with gentle hugs and soft words. She glanced up at her husband.
Sonic stood exactly where he’d been when the glass had left his hand (by the kitchen sink). He stared at the floor, expression unreadable; a rare moment of him being perfectly still.
He’s normally fast enough to catch things like that, Amy thought to herself. “Sonic?”
No answer.
Any hid a worried purse of her lips, instead turning to her oldest. “Chase, you still have your shoes on—can you grab the broom for mama so she can clean up the mess?”
Sonic then seemed to jerk awake. “Sorry. I’ll get it.” He quickly left the room, not meeting Amy’s eyes. Amy heard the shutting of a cupboard, followed by Sonic returning with a broom and dustpan in hand.
“Let me help, Dad!”
Chase had gotten down from his chair and now stood by his dad amid the mess. Sonic looked down into his son’s eyes, and managed a smile—small, but grateful.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Chase chatted away about what he wanted to do after dinner while diligently holding the dustpan in place. He made Sonic chuckle once or twice, oblivious of the tightness in his dad’s shoulders. Eventually, he and his twin siblings left the room to play. Amy stood and took the broom from Sonic.
“I’ll finish here,” she said, gesturing with her head at the living room. “Why don’t you go relax? It’s been a long day. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Sonic looked at her, his eyes somewhat distant, but he gave her a half smile and nodded. Amy heard him sigh as he left, noticing him shove his hands behind his quills as he plopped down on their woven pink couch.
A few minutes and a vacuuming job later (just to be safe), Amy came into the living room and sat beside Sonic. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning at nothing.
If Amy was going to get anything out of him, it was now or never.
“What’s on your mind, Sonic?”
Sonic sighed through his nose. He closed his eyes as if thinking of what to say. In the end, he gave a defeated shrug.
“You’ve seemed on edge for a few days, now,” Amy said carefully. “Ever since our last fight with Eggman.”
Sonic’s eyes flew open. “I hate that man,” he spat out. He sat up, face scrunched with more choice, but unsaid, words. Amy stared at him, surprised at his strong language. Certainly it was universal knowledge that Sonic didn’t like Eggman (and frankly, Amy hated the man too), but to hear her husband say it outright in such frank terms was… unusual.
“Are you upset about the forest he ruined?”
Another sigh. “Yes… and no.” Sonic leaned forward, pressing his mouth against folded hands. He took a deep breath.
“Do you… ever think about us as kids?”
Amy tilted her head. “How so?”
“You know… all the stuff we did.” Sonic stared at his shoes. “How… crazy it was that we were kids?”
Amy took a small breath, understanding his meaning. She bit her lip. “Yes. All the time.” She waited for Sonic to continue, but he went quiet then. He began tapping his foot at the base of the couch—a nervous habit when he was thinking.
“My earliest memories are running,” Sonic said finally. “I was, I dunno—maybe four? Five? Chase’s age. I didn’t know where I came from or where I was going, and I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. I thought I was fine. I was fine! I couldn’t even talk yet, and I was fine! I just ran wherever the wind took me.” He took a shaky breath. “But imagining our kids in the same position just-!”
He cut himself off, burying his head in his hands. After a moment, he dropped them into his lap.
“We were so young.”
Amy nodded slowly. “We were very young,” she echoed. After a moment, she asked “Does that scare you?”
Sonic’s face scrunched again, but not in anger this time. “I was never afraid for myself growing up. I knew I’d be fine. But I was afraid for Tails, when he came into the picture. Some days I was so scared I didn’t know what to do with myself. And I guess, now… I’m afraid for them, too.” He ran a trembling hand down his face, forcing a laugh. “Heh… Guess things don’t change as much as you think they would, huh?”
“No,” Amy said, watching him, “I guess they don’t.” She put a soft hand on Sonic’s knee, leaning into him. “But I think that’s a good thing. It means you love them.”
Sonic sighed, his hand going to his forehead. “I just… I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Raise our kids! Especially when we’re practically badnik magnets! It’s a miracle Eggman doesn’t send a squadron after us every week!”
Amy rubbed his knee reassuringly. “Even if he did, you know Tails’ security system would warn us long before anyone was in danger.”
“I know…”
Amy thought a moment, then she leaned forward, trying to see her husband’s face. “You know, you know how to do this better than you think you do. You forget that you raised Tails.”
A husky laugh, almost desperate. “I didn’t know what I was doing then, either! It's a miracle that kid's even alive! I pulled him into so many things without even a second thought, and I had no idea how to raise a kid, I—!”
Sonic felt Amy’s hand on his chin then. It rested there for a moment, and then he relaxed just enough to let it guide him, lifting and turning his head so he could meet her gaze. Amy beamed at him, eyes soft and gentle. “And look how well Tails turned out.”
Sonic stared at her. Then suddenly he realized his cheeks were wet, and he went to wipe them with his gloves. Instead, Sonic found himself sinking into his hands. He gasped.
Amy started as her husband began to sob. A second later, she slid over again on the couch and encircled him in her arms, leaning her cheek against the side of his head, rubbing a soothing hand along his back between his quills.
“I don’t deserve you,” Sonic coughed out from behind his hands.
“I don’t deserve you,” Amy whispered back. She continued to rub between his quills. Then she kissed his head, feeling him tremble beneath her touch.
“Do any of us really know what we’re doing?” she eventually murmured in his ear. “We’ve never done this before, and that’s scary. I’ll admit, I worry about our kids sometimes too.”
She continued as Sonic struggled to catch his breath. “We don’t know what the future holds. But,” she said, a soft smile in her voice, “you don’t have to do this alone. You won’t be alone—I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’re in this together.” She kissed his head again. “It’ll be another grand adventure.”
A few more shuddering breaths from Sonic, and he gradually began to still. Then he nodded, though his head still rested in his hands. “Another adventure,” he whispered. “Like it’s always been.”
“Like it’s always been,” Amy nodded affirmative. She moved her hands to hug him around his shoulders.
They sat there for a few minutes, neither willing to move. They could hear their three little ones playing in the other room. Monty laughed.
“You know what I think?” Amy eventually asked. “I think that, with our kids along for the ride, it’ll be even more fun. More so than it’s ever been before.”
At that, Sonic finally smiled. “Yeah…” He lowered his hands, revealing it, then he glanced her way. “The more the merrier, right?”
Amy giggled. “Right!”
She stroked Sonic’s cheek for a moment. Then she stood and took Sonic’s hand. Surprised, he followed her outside onto their balcony. It had been built directly onto the tree that had become their literal treehouse, overlooking their backyard. Sonic stopped beside Amy.
“Woah…”
A vibrant explosion of oranges and deep pinks greeted them as the sun set over the distant mountains. They stared at the glorious sight, still holding hands.
“The beauty still gets me every time,” said Sonic.
“Yes,” Amy sighed.
After a moment, Sonic cleared his throat. "Sorry that I—"
“No. It’s ok.” Amy looked away from the sky and into her husband’s eyes. She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you told me.”
Sonic’s cheeks tinged pink as he smiled, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. “Tryin’ to be better.” Then he met her eyes. “Thanks for listening.”
Amy grinned. “Like I said: we’re in this together.” Then she pecked him on the cheek, which made Sonic laugh and blush harder. He squeezed her hand in return. He pulled her into a hug, his arms around her waist, head resting on hers while facing the sunset.
“You know… I may still be scared silly,” he said, “but there’s no one else I’d rather be with on this crazy new family adventure than with you.”
Amy now felt herself blush. “Oh, Sonic.” She leaned into the fur on his chest, smiling as the sun ducked behind the horizon. “Me too.”
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thinking about how essentially every relationship john locke formed in the early seasons of lost has completely disintegrated by the time of his death.
of course there's his relationship with jack, which starts tense but manageable and culminates in jack pointing a gun at john's head and pulling the trigger. but even his smaller, less narratively prominent relationships either implode or drift apart. he bonds with walt in season one but then walt leaves the island, which is itself a severing of their bond since it was mainly based on being the only two people who wanted to stay. still, he goes and visits walt off the island so this is probably john's most successful relationship. I dont think i need to explain how he fucked up with boone, "the sacrifice that the island demanded." charlie viewed john as a mentor and claimed to trust him more than anyone on the island, but after the events of fire and water, that trust is destroyed and charlie despises him. at the same time we get john bonding with claire and having a pseudo-paternal dynamic with her, but their closeness basically drops off the face of the earth as he gets less and less involved with the other survivors.
his arc in the series is essentially a gradual distancing from everyone around him. it starts when he abandons hunting (providing for the others) in favor of trying to get the hatch open (it's extremely clear his primary motive isn't any survival applications but getting answers to the mystery). when they do open the hatch, he spends more and more time inside, underground, cut off from other people. he spends more and more time interacting with ben, a human mystery box that he's obsessed with cracking even if it gets him killed. he follows the proverbial white rabbit deeper down the hole and leaves his connection to humanity behind. the island and its mysteries become more important to john than anything or anyone else.
then in season three we get him claiming to go undercover with the others only to unceremoniously tell sawyer that he's actually going to join them. and it doesn't feel shocking, it feels inevitable. because john has spent the entire series becoming less and less connected with the people he arrived with. in that sense he actually makes a fascinating foil to juliet, who is introduced as one of the others and yet never really fits, she's increasingly sympathetic and kind in a way the rest of them aren't, her redemption arc feels so natural that she actually starts referring to her old people as "the others" like she's been one of the crash survivors from the beginning. her and john basically have inverse arcs, which is probably accidental but very neat.
in season five john tries to convince everyone to go back to the island, and fails spectacularly. and of course he does, because he was so consumed by obsession that he stopped maintaining his relationships, and in many cases actively alienated people (this is also basically what happened with helen) and now he can't wrap his head around why they're all so hostile to him. i am forever obsessed with the scene where he confronts kate and she brutally calls him out for wanting to return to the island because he doesn't love anyone. it actually struck me on rewatch how well the two of them got along in season one, and how badly their relationship has degraded by this point. john repeatedly casts aside interpersonal relationships in favor of his obsession with destiny, so when said destiny actually involves persuading the people he once shunned, he's at a loss. this is because john treats purpose as a supplement for connection, destiny as an alternative to love.
as an aside, this aspect of john's character kinda ties into my opinion that several lost characters can be read as allegorically neurdivergent under a certain lens. i know this was absolutely not intended, but as an adhd former gifted kid who struggles socially, there is something uncomfortably familiar about a character who allows their relationships to burn around them because of a single-minded obsession, especially as a result of being promised the fickle status of "special."
tl/dr: john locke is a doomed idiot and i love him
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