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[karanguni]

OKAY US GOVERNMENT, YOU CAN TAKE MY MENTAL HEALTH AND YOU CAN TAKE MY SENSE OF REALITY AND YOU CAN TAKE MY EVERYTHING BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE MY WORDS.

Basically, my life is mostly shambles. Writing makes things less shambly. Give me a prompt - any fandom in the tags; hell, any fandom: I'll look it up and make stuff up if I have to at this point - just give me something to do that isn't fall apart at my computer screen. It would help beyond words.

Comments

[scheherezhad]

Batfamily? I miss your way with the boys, especially Terry.

I hope things become less shambly soon, bb. <333

[karanguni]

Terry is sick as shit of living up to ghosts that he can't see; he's not sure what happened with all the other Batmans, all the other Robins, all the other Batgirls, but he's sick of seeing their shadows cast everywhere. Sometimes, when he can lay aside the fact that he's being enormously hypocritical, Terry wonders if Bruce wouldn't have been put away for corruption of minors if he wasn't so rich and well connected, etcetera etcetera.

Because Terry gets it: Terry gets that you want to save the city you grow up in from itself, save Gotham from the freaks that its streets and its rich-poor gap and its industrial airwaves produce. Terry understands that red tape can wind its way around innocent people and innocent lives, slowly asphyxiating the ones who need just that little bit of liberty or just that little helping hand. It is hatefully difficult to watch good men and women suffer because no government, big or small, can save anyone from the little tragedies; the immediate crimes. Police forces and paperwork can trace the bullet back to the gun, but it won't bring anybody back from the dead; won't stop the trigger from being pulled in the first place.

So Terry gets it: he gets why there always has been and always will be a Batman, but he looks around the cave at night when Bruce is coughing and bent over from having a bad back and wonders if all of this isn't just transference. One man, one myth trying to take on all the little hurts of the big, big city.

It's a rare person who can do that for a long time without burning out and calling it quits. After a while, Terry's come to realise, you learn that wearing the cowl means giving up on your personal victories, the ones that you would've fought with your friends, your lovers, your family. And Terry's sick to death of all those could've-beens and should've-beens; sick and scared of them as they watch him from the aisles of the cave that Bruce built.


----

Thanks ): It's been a bad coupla months.

[scheherezhad]

God, this is just what I love about Terry. He is so concretely Batman and never would have been a Robin, because even though he came into it still young, he has always had the drive for it despite being aware of exactly how fucked up the whole concept is from top to bottom. I love him for his ability to carry on under the weights not only of the job, not only of filling Bruce's shoes, but also of living up to the spectres of every member of the family that came before him.

Thank you, darling!


Also, so much hugs. *smishes you lots*

[cordialcount]

Vetinari and Angua! Or Vetinari and Sybil, or Vetinari and Vimes 100% not-sarcastic-here gen.

I feel kind of terrible taking advantage of your shambles to ask for drabbles: please, please ignore this comment if nothing comes to mind. I can't say a damn thing about the government but I hope your brain does what you need it to soon. ♥

[karanguni]

Today was a day of so much application filling and trying-to-save-my-life from exploding; but whatever! prompts save my brain, it is nay taking advantage of anything when I ask for it xD

Angua doesn't really deal with Vetinari; she never has, even after her weird progression of promotions and the subsequent general improvement in werewolf awareness that that had brought about.^* There was only this vague sensation, every now and then, that Vetinari knew more about her life than he really had any real need to know. This sensation was really only aggravated whenever Carrot was called up to the Palace -- an increasingly common occurrence. Her senses were telling her that the Patrician would, if able, whisk away the man who was her boyfriend (man friend? man partner? partner? gods above) and dispatch him to faraway continents to do Good Deeds in front of many reporters.

'It's the sword, really, the whole king business,' Nobby opined to Angua, sidling up next to her as they watched Carrot be summoned, yet again, to the Palace, ostensibly to do something about the gang violence that had arisen around the latest round-robin Thud tournament.^** 'Or maybe the V-shaped, muscle-bound upper body he has.'

'Nobby.'

* Not that Angua would ever go to any of the Werewolf Women WRights meetings, all of which seemed to be run by people who were either a) not werewolves or b) not women, since c) women werewolves didn't really see a need for fighting for wrights when they could just take them.

** You had to give Carrot the nod for getting what were essentially miniature hoodlums to play Thud; the whole gambling racket and violent repercussions stuff, on the other hand, were entirely their invention, since they claimed that 'mind sports' weren't no sport till somebody got shanked for the hell of it.

[cordialcount]

AHHHH. I'd like to be more specific, but this is one of the rare things where I genuinely love every line: it sparkles more densely than the canon itself, really. <3