dick's relationship with bruce + the titans too-long meta
there's been so many of these but i have many thoughts on this subject!!! dick's two biggest allegiances are to the batfa.m and to the titan.s and the two simply do not vibe (with pictures!).
for the most part, i feel like (at least in team settings) the titans are pretty vocal about not being batstans and bruce in kind has never put a 'proud parent of a teen titan' bumper sticker on the batmobile. like i feel like there's so many examples of:
and:
and:
i also think both sides thinks dick goes too easy on the other. that dick will always give batman the benefit of the doubt, and he will always answer a titans call. like the titans are constantly grilling dick about why he would listen to batman:
and batman thinks the titans focus too much on the power of friendship:
& i personally do think its a dash of 'what do you mean you're adults you were twelve yesterday'. like all the titans are the original sidekicks to most of the JL, and generally speaking the firsts of their mantle's so i do think there's a dash of parental caution at letting your newly adult kid do whatever they want with their friends. especially considering its not like theyre working at safety & gentle work emporium theyre all vigilantes/heroes and their missions are often life or death. they also are very excessive about each other and would absolutely kill or die for each other given very little prompting (ex: wally literally turned back time and revived dick grayson, thereby killing himself in this very issue). and the titans cannot go a single run without saying 'we didn't create a team... we created a family' and saying shit like:
when they are also (often) the JLs family. But especially in younger years, like the titans were dicks main reason for ever leaving gotham. and in early years robin, dick's sole focus was gotham, bruce and robin. & they worked so well together, dynamic duo who became such a cohesive unit and spent every waking moment together in some capacity (and often enjoyed that time very much)
but once the titans started to meet his duties split and like any teenage kid he found himself wanting to just hang out with his friends rather than his dad sometimes. and dick was so lonely in the early years and naturally sociable that finding other kids who could relate was so important to him.
& i just think there's no doubt the titans were the rift that caused b&r to end. at the very least the timeline was sped up by the titans because dick was the youngest of the OG 5 and watched them all break off into their own adult selves and being the first active sidekick i think dick started thinking if they can be adults, can no longer be someone's #2... why can't i? and considering the titans were older than him, dick had several places to land or look for comfort or reassurance in his friends who seemed to have it together more than seventeen year old him. and bruce pushing him away (whole meta on that later) and dick seeing everyone else age out of their sidekick roles, led to stuff like:
and don't get me wrong, no matter the age, i think dick values very few other opinions than batman's. like titans (2016) broke apart because bruce was disappointed in dicks leadership and eventually convinced him wally & donna needed extra supervision (context: wallys heart problems & troia). also, dick rarely leaves things out of reports so im sure bruce saw that /technically speaking/ both dick (bruces son who he is not normal about) and wally died on this mission. but the titans didn't back down:
i also think the titans really respect dick's leadership, and they rarely (if ever) take well to anyone outside the titans shittalking dick grayson (sidenote -- specific titans can do it all they want because they have been a long time dg stan sufferer(TM) but outside of the team it rarely goes over well). but anyway, only dick could convince the titans to not fight this (much) and only bruce could convince dick:
so when dick stopped fighting it and agreed with the JL i feel like it was obvious bruce influenced that.
AND i think super important is that batman/most of the titans aren't super close so all they hear about each other is through dick. and dick can be emotionally intelligent, but he can also be unreasonably secretive. so every time bruce and dick fight or like, those big moments like dick's firing, or kicking dick out of the mansion after jason's death or like any of their big, shocking fights its like dick coming to the titans at his lowest. and because he places so much self worth on bruces opinion on him, i feel like that in turn might make the titans dick does run to in those moments (donna, roy, wally, etc.) resentful because he doesn't always go back into how or why they made up, when they always do.
but anyway all that to say this wouldn't be a problem if dick didn't love them both SO MUCH like:
THE BLACKERT CLAN: ( eldest to youngest. ) Officer Alexander Alan Blackert ( Papa. ) Laura Anne. ( Momma. ) Hannah ‘Lou’ Louise. ( Big sis. deceased. ) Windsor Rose ( The middle baby. ) & Faina Marie. ( Little sis. )
Officer Alexander Alan Blackert gave most of his livelihood to serving in the Portland PD. He broke down political boundaries to become a detective on the field, attempting to take most cases with an impersonal basis. However, after the death of his eldest, Hannah and her dear friend Rachel, he was required to take a near 6 month sabbatical to get his mind in the right shape. He remained forever hindered by these murders and blamed a lot of the legislature for the injustice served. He remains to be what he refers to as a ‘political atheist’ finding that most of his battles are man-made and simply cannot be helped for the corrupt exist very much within their broken system, especially in a place as evil-centric as Portland, Oregon.
Laura Anne Blackert was a nurse, before she gave birth to Hannah and decided to focus her time on her marriage and life as a mother. When the girls grew old enough she began to home-school them in hopes of solidifying a higher education. When the girls hit their teens they were granted the opportunity to attend public school for the first time which became a slight challenge for Laura, however she found solace in returning to the work scene and taking up time in the triage department at Legacy Hospital.
Hannah was only 21 when she lost her life to a drunk driver. She’d been the designated driver and was completely sober at the point of impact. She had gone out with Rachel to celebrate Rach’s 21st birthday ( whom was also sober ). The girls never found much joy in getting drunk. When they went out to dance, they always ordered non-alcoholic beverages such as Roy Rogers or Shirley Temples. Most of their joy in life came simply by existing in the moment. Hannah was an up and coming ballet dancer and volleyball coach at the local community college. She gave her all to her team ( her ‘girls’ ) and was a loving and very dedicated older sister to Windy & Faina.
Faina is the youngest of the Blackerts. She’s exceptionally sporty, but also a brainiac. Where Windsor took her studies in the arts very seriously, Faina pursued other outlets with a focus on medicine. After the loss of Hannah, she suffered a deep depression that severed her relationship with Windsor. Hannah was always the ‘umbrella’ for the three, shielding them from pointless arguments and often being the voice of reason. Without her presence it became difficult for Windsor and Faina to get along, now witnessing just how night & day the girls are. However, with time and growth, the two became closer and would do anything for each other. After graduating in the top 10 of her class, Faina shot off to George Fox University where she worked on her nursing degree, just like her momma.
once my mother sent my grandparents a short story i wrote (the one on hercules u know the one idk why she did i think she just wanted to be like "hey remember the chronically depressed child? well they did something!") to them. problem is, neither of them have an email, and there's no computer in their house, because they live in rural ireland, and their tv has less then 10 channels and they have no wifi. only my grandmother has a phone, and its a flipphone from the 90s. she does actually have a smartphone, but she doesn't know how to use it so only the blueberry thing gets used.
so, how to send them my shitty 1.5k words of mythological revision? she sent it to my uncle, who also lives in ireland, but in a place that isn't in the middle of fucking nowhere. he printed it out, and sent it to them in the mail. fine, right? wrong. the envelope he sent, while it obviously had their address, had no other attached information to it. no context. it was just a weird story in an envelope mailed to them.
fine, you think. they probably were at first like "oh what is this?", but then figured out what it was and figured out that their grandchild, who they know to be interested in mythology, especially greek mythology, must've wrote this.
nope! instead, the logical conclusion that they arrived to was that this has come from a strange cult, that was attempting to indoctrinate members via strange myth pieces. they were freaking out about this, i need you to understand, trying to figure out where the hell it had come from and how did it have their address, they must be spying on us, what in our house could be used as spy equipment-
luckily, my uncle came back and was like "oh it arrived!" and explained the situation and all was well. but honestly the fact that my shitty 1.5k fic on some weird immortal bisexual recovering alcoholic managed to freak out my grandma so much she had an anxiety attack? i just... this was a whole weird situation.
moral of the story? don't send unmarked envelopes to your grandparents, especially if they're rural. they will make up some weird convoluted story about cults for a little excitement in their lives.
NICKNAME/ALIAS: Stella, Star, ‘Aim’ ( if you are close to her! ).
BIRTH DATE: May 5th.
ETHNICITY/NATIONALITY: Caucasian / American.
GENDER: Cis female.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.
RELIGION: Non-denominational.
SPOKEN LANGUAGE: English & some Italian.
CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: A little cottage of a home with an adorable garden full of bunny rabbits. -- But she also finds herself on the road quite a bit.
OCCUPATION/AFFILIATIONS: Grade-school - Middle-school English Teacher & Supernatural huntress.
relationships.
PARENTS: Joseph & Aster Hicks.
SIBLINGS: None, only child.
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: @ghostbloomed. Sage King.
CHILDREN: N/A.
PETS: She’s often too busy to care for domesticated animals, so she takes care of the little ‘wild-lings’ that show up in her garden, such as the squirrels and rabbits and birds.
physical traits.
EYE COLOUR: Green.
HAIR COLOUR: Blonde.
HEIGHT: 5′4.
BODY BUILD: Mesomorphic.
TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: Only one piercing in each ear and a small tattoo of a Celtic cross on her mid-back ( aka a ‘tramp stamp’. )
NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: Beautiful, bright smile and vibrant green eyes.
phobias and disorders.
PHOBIAS: Clowns ( nothing scarier! ) & spiders.
MENTAL DISORDERS: None.
WHEN WAS THIS DIAGNOSED?: N/A.
personality.
INTELLIGENCE: Amé has always been extremely bright and intuitive. Her classes genuinely came fairly easy to her, even mathematics which she hated. Where she most thrived was English lit, which she took with great pride, reading for enjoyment whenever she could. Her desire for knowledge and far off places came in handy upon the many hunts her parents took her on. Amé would always want to fill her brain with as much intellect regarding the various creatures they searched and studied ( and took out. ) She also knows a thing or two about plant life, gardening, awareness of poisonous berries, vines and leaves, etc. - camping and animals. She’s a wild heart, with a free spirit.
LIKES: (Favorite) Drink: She’s a simple girl, tap water. Food: Pasta. Snacks: Potato chips. Movie: Much Ado About Nothing ( the Kenneth Branaugh version w/Kate Beckinsale. ) & Monty Python & the Holy Grail. Color: Red.
DISLIKES: Negative energy, letting people down, tight spaces.
DISPOSITION: She’s generally a laid-back being who tries to fill the world with a bit more positivism. Though she’s witnessed a number of brutal occurrences, including death, she does her best to exude a pragmatic heart and advantageous nature.
Logically, Essa knew that the scene stretching out in front of her was a simulation in the Trials chamber, but it felt as real as ever. Thick, dark smoke billowed from the burning ruins of a village, stinging her eyes and obscuring her vision as she wove in and out of the rubble, searching for survivors. Her eyes burned from the noxious smoke and she squinted them shut, taking as deep a breath as she could manage and focusing her attention on the force.
The chaos of the battlefield faded away, revealing several survivors of the blast standing out brightly in the tapestry of the Force like a gleaming silver thread. She let the force guide her as she made her way through the ruins, only blinking her eyes open when she reached her first survivor.
His leg was sticking out at an odd angle, clearly broken by fallen debris. Slightly more concerning, though, was the large gash on his side, bleeding rapidly. She knelt down beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder gently as she spoke, “I am Jedi padawan Essa Barsta, I’m here to help.”
The man only moaned in response.
Essa spared a quick glance around the simulated room, scanning for any sign of a medkit. ‘No, that would be too easy,’ she thought, ‘I’ll have to improvise.’ She focused once again on the force, sending waves of calm, of peace, towards the man and speaking one phrase, “there is no pain.”
The trick wouldn’t work for long, the pain would eventually catch up with him, so she started work immediately, tearing strips of her cloak up to tightly bind the gash on his chest, willing the wound closed. She lent some of her vitality to him through the force and the edges of the wound began to knit together forming a messy scar. Next, she set to his leg, bracing it with a splintered piece of wood and some more scraps from her cloak. It wasn’t her best work, but it would have to do.
The man’s strained voice brought Essa back to the moment, stuttering from the returning pain, “my fam- family, my k-kids. Where are they?”
Essa froze. “Your family? I don’t know, but I will find them, they’ll be safe.”
"Please," the man said, squinting his eyes closed against the pain now returning to his consciousness.
"I promise."
~~
Essa once again reached out with the force, focusing on the gleaming thread of survivors, allowing it to guide her to where they were.
This building was in far worse shape than the first one had been; much of the roof had caved in and flames licked at the walls, threatening to grow. She paused for a moment, taking time to steady herself for what she might need to do.
Essa pushed at the door only to find it blocked from the inside by debris. In an instant, her lightsaber was ignited, its green blade cutting through the rubble and granting her a path inside.
It was worse than she hoped.
She could see one dead already, crushed beneath the debris that had fallen from above. Her promise was broken before she even had a chance to keep it.
Her attention shifted to the back of the building, where a steady thumping sound could be heard as flames started to lick up the walls. There must be someone inside.
Essa once again sliced through the door, scanning for anyone immediately visible, hearing the banging and cries for help coming from one of he adjoining rooms.
The flames were growing stronger, blocking her path; Essa took a deep, focusing breath and stepped forward into the blaze.
"There is no pain. There is no pain," She thought, trying to stay focused on those she needed to help, rather than the way that the flames licked at her skin and set her outer robe ablaze.
She shrugged it off as she pushed through to the fire and towards the door.
Essa rapped loudly on the door three times, cringing loudly as the heat of the metal singed her knuckles, and called out to the four people she could sense inside. "Move away from the door, I'm going to have to cut my way inside."
Her lightsaber flashed to life as she forced it through the metal of the door. Inside, she was able to see four figures huddled together, trying to seek shelter as best as they could. Distantly, Essa realized that she could only feel the presence of three.
The structure groaned under the heat of the fire, threatening to collapse further if she didn't hurry.
"Come on, we don't have time to waste-" She called to them, shooting out a hand to catch some falling debris before it could hit one of the survivors.
They coughed and spluttered against the thick, acrid smoke that filled the room, stumbling forward on unsteady feet. As Essa caught clearer sight of the group she could see one of them had a large gash across their forehead.
It bled steadily, and their presence in the force felt fragile and flighty as if it might wink out at any moment. Essa knew she needed to provide some kind of care, some kind of healing before it was too late.
She led them outside, only then taking the time to really look at the group. The person with the head injury seemed to be the oldest and was clutching the unmoving form of a child no more than three years old to their chest; the other two seemed to be mostly uninjured, save for the wet, hacking coughs they had from the smoked.
Looking closer at the head injury, Essa made the grim realization that there wasn't much she could do without any proper supplies. She would do what she could, but the person had already lost too much blood, and the wound was too deep to be tended by force healing alone.
The burns on her hands and arms stung as she coaxed them to lay down and employed the same trick that she had with the child's father, making them unaware of the pain and filling them with a sense of peace. It wasn't long before their presence in the force flickered out, signaling their passing.
She turned her attention to the other two, willing their lungs to clear, for them to breathe easily.
Another explosion sent the world listing as Essa jumped to shield the two remaining children from the shower of falling debris, feeling the presence of yet another villager slip away; their father.
Her head swam with emotions, both her own, and those of the only two she had managed to save. Essa scrunched her eyes closed, fighting as hard as she could to try and control the wave of thoughts threatening to pull her under. There were six survivors and now there were only two; if she had only been faster, if only she been a better healer, if only had an emergency medkit with her- Essa took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come next, pushing the thoughts away.
The scene around her faded, leaving her in the Trials chamber. A voice spoke and she looked up, still struggling a bit to contain the onslaught of emotions and regrets she felt. She would need to meditate on that later.
"Congratulations, Padawan Barsta. You have passed your Trial of the Flesh."
