i am wren

UNDER 16 DNI // Arwen has currently been magicked to her 7 year old body. She has OSDD-1 and two of her child alters are mostly in control atm!

[wrensdivineviolence]

‎ ‎

‎ . BLOODLESS IN THE BATHROOM MIRROR

. NOR THE BLOOD OF YOU BLEEDING AS YOU TRY TO LET GO

" You're drinking bottled love now. "

Arwen Upton grew up in a gang, conditioned to be a weapon or a something that can withstand plenty of hits, forced to do horrific things to survive. Now physically free, Arwen has turned to vigilantism as way to continue following through with her conditioning in a slightly less harmful way. Stubborn and withdrawn but still craving connection and affection, it's usually difficult to get an answer out of Arwen that isn't evasive or sarcastic. That being said, she was conditioned to be maternal, and believes it to be the only good thing she was ever given.

Still holding onto the name 'Wren,' Arwen has recently been spending every single night on the streets in her vigilante suit, feeling abandoned by everyone around her and angry at herself for the things she's done. It's rare to see Arwen without a cigarette or a bottle now, and it seems she's now out of her depth regarding keeping her health issues hidden. She is technically a meta-human, and still unaware of it as well.

" I don't need no good advice, I'm already wasted. "

" Come on, angel, come on, come on, darling. "

Arwen is 18, having recently had her birthday. However, please don't send any NSFW asks. I am not okay with that!

Mun is twenty one, and would prefer if muns under sixteen didn't interact. If I accidentally interact and you're under 16, please let me know! I will delete any posts involving you and apologise.

Please be kind! I deal with multiple physical and mental health issues.

Please do not involve me with drama or call out posts. I have enough bullshit going on in my real life!

Want to plot? Absolutely! Send me an ask or a DM.

This blog and character feature dark topics such as gang violence, organised abuse, alcoholism, child abuse/exploitation, forced murder/perpetration and other canon-typical themes/violence.

No homophobia, transphobia, racism, ableism, fatphobia, etc. Fuck ICE, fuck Trump, fuck Reform, pro-choice. No MAPS or anything like that either lmfao fuck off. No batcest or proship for me please

I live in the UK and have a weird ass sleep schedule due to my health issues. Feel free to remind me to answer you!

My inbox is always open! Currently, anons are okay, but any harassment or coming into my inbox for anything drama/call out related will mean you lose anon privileges.

Generally, I don't mind what other people do as long as nobody is getting hurt. That does not, however, mean I want certain interactions (ie proship and batcest)

Pleaaase send me asks pleaaase I'm so bored

" String the sinner by his wings. "

" Praying that just for one second you could feel the warmth of equally returned love. "

Family: @cain-matt-keay @roy-the-harper @dickgrayson-wayne @timothydwayne719 (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

Girlfriend: @somewhereleda (ran by me)

Tags:

#wrencore - stuff that reminds me of her!!

Storylines:

#﹙✶﹚i want a better body

" Once upon a time, in a land faraway, there lived a little boy and he drank all day. "

[arabella-drake-wayne]

I have found a small child in Arkham. He is my son now. He has imprinted on me like a baby bird and if anyone touches him I’m blowing your head off.

//new blog incoming

[wrensdivineviolence]

so you're getting clean, yeah?

i am an auntie...

[yourlocalgothamitegal]

I may or may not have punched a mugger in the gut when he tried to jump me. I heard the crack, I broke something in them. So uh….yeah. I’m fine btw, I ended up calling an ambulance for the dude before dipping tf outta there

[wrensdivineviolence]

congrats

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“This whole conversation has made me realise you really are like a dog… You only had one sip, right? I don’t have to tell Roy you drank loads?”

The difference in the grand scheme of things was minimal but the little details might work in her favour when Roy inevitably chewed her out.

[wrensdivineviolence]

She seemed to go a bit quiet at the dog mention. Looking away, she sighed.

"At least two mouthfuls."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are we lying to him or are you transparent? Because I can turn that into one big sip which becomes one.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'd rather not lie. I don't enjoy lying."

She seemed in an odd mood now- more withdrawn.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Ugh, fine then. Truth it is.” Arabella watched Arwen, taking apart her expression. “Okay what’s wrong? Don’t bullshit me, I know something’s up.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I don't know," she answered. "I only know that something's wrong."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Tell me about something, then. Anything. Just some random bullshit or even something depressing as hell.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I met Leda because I was tasked with stalking her and stealing her necklace. She fucking judo flipped me and knocked the air out of me and told me I picked the wrong fucking person. But the guy I mentioned wasn't happy with that. So I kept trying. And trying. And failing. Eventually, she realised what was going on, gave me her address, and said if I needed patching up, go to her. He also gave up on the necklace eventually. At a price."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“She judo flipped you?? What a weirdly cute love story. You two are disgustingly destined for each other.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Apparently so. He wasn't too happy about it."

"Only left him when he tore my piercings out." She pointed to two scars on her lip that led halfway down her chin. "Leda stitched them up. He never tried to find me, though. Guess he realised he took it too far."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“This whole conversation has made me realise you really are like a dog… You only had one sip, right? I don’t have to tell Roy you drank loads?”

The difference in the grand scheme of things was minimal but the little details might work in her favour when Roy inevitably chewed her out.

[wrensdivineviolence]

She seemed to go a bit quiet at the dog mention. Looking away, she sighed.

"At least two mouthfuls."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are we lying to him or are you transparent? Because I can turn that into one big sip which becomes one.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'd rather not lie. I don't enjoy lying."

She seemed in an odd mood now- more withdrawn.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Ugh, fine then. Truth it is.” Arabella watched Arwen, taking apart her expression. “Okay what’s wrong? Don’t bullshit me, I know something’s up.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I don't know," she answered. "I only know that something's wrong."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Tell me about something, then. Anything. Just some random bullshit or even something depressing as hell.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I met Leda because I was tasked with stalking her and stealing her necklace. She fucking judo flipped me and knocked the air out of me and told me I picked the wrong fucking person. But the guy I mentioned wasn't happy with that. So I kept trying. And trying. And failing. Eventually, she realised what was going on, gave me her address, and said if I needed patching up, go to her. He also gave up on the necklace eventually. At a price."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“This whole conversation has made me realise you really are like a dog… You only had one sip, right? I don’t have to tell Roy you drank loads?”

The difference in the grand scheme of things was minimal but the little details might work in her favour when Roy inevitably chewed her out.

[wrensdivineviolence]

She seemed to go a bit quiet at the dog mention. Looking away, she sighed.

"At least two mouthfuls."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are we lying to him or are you transparent? Because I can turn that into one big sip which becomes one.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'd rather not lie. I don't enjoy lying."

She seemed in an odd mood now- more withdrawn.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Ugh, fine then. Truth it is.” Arabella watched Arwen, taking apart her expression. “Okay what’s wrong? Don’t bullshit me, I know something’s up.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I don't know," she answered. "I only know that something's wrong."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“This whole conversation has made me realise you really are like a dog… You only had one sip, right? I don’t have to tell Roy you drank loads?”

The difference in the grand scheme of things was minimal but the little details might work in her favour when Roy inevitably chewed her out.

[wrensdivineviolence]

She seemed to go a bit quiet at the dog mention. Looking away, she sighed.

"At least two mouthfuls."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are we lying to him or are you transparent? Because I can turn that into one big sip which becomes one.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'd rather not lie. I don't enjoy lying."

She seemed in an odd mood now- more withdrawn.

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“This whole conversation has made me realise you really are like a dog… You only had one sip, right? I don’t have to tell Roy you drank loads?”

The difference in the grand scheme of things was minimal but the little details might work in her favour when Roy inevitably chewed her out.

[wrensdivineviolence]

She seemed to go a bit quiet at the dog mention. Looking away, she sighed.

"At least two mouthfuls."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I’ve never gotten clean off coke, though. That while sober thing was for weed, before I even did this shit properly. It was never meant to be another thing, you know?” She smirked. “And I’m definitely using that against Roy, yeah.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"That wasn't my point. My point was that you bringing a bottle of alcohol out in front of me was pretty much like dropping a dog treat in front of your pet that knows it can't have one and will eat it faster than you realise."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Her prolonged silence was enough of an answer, her eyes breaking away from Arwens face and suddenly finding the sky very interesting.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"... point is that even though I don't want to drink it, my body quite literally relies on it to live. And your body requires cocaine to live right now. That's why you're supposed to wean off, not go cold turkey. Roy made me go cold turkey while doing chemo, and he's still not forgiven for that, so if you want to slip that in while you tell him, I don't mind. It's in our instinct to take the thing because we've used it for so long. It's difficult to ignore it if you've only recently gotten clean."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“But you don’t even do coke.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Don’t fucking remind me… You didn’t have to drink it, you know?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"And if I brought out a baggie of coke, what would you do?"

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Are you?” Arabella shot back. She noticed Arwen’s eyes on the graves, reminded of those the girl had lost so young.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I did, right up until you brought out a bottle. You better tell Roy. Seriously."

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Am I meant to say thanks?” Her tone was dry, the question bitter. Being with Arwen relaxed her a bit from her usual facade. She could be herself - as cold and bitchy as it was - around the other.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Are you going to cut down?" She changes the topic, her gaze entirely focused on the graves in front of her.

[maidslime]

mom's minion memes for real justice

i posted these originally like 9 or 10 years ago or something but I can't find them anywhere, so now you get retortured.

[queer-as-in-fuck-12]

drug addicts deserve housing, food, water, and healthcare btw

[wrensdivineviolence]

@arabella-drake-wayne - CLOSED RP. TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, GENERAL ABUSE, AND PROPERLY MORE TRIGGERING TOPICS

Arwen sat in the outskirts of Gotham, staring at what looked to be three graves. They weren't official graves- they looked like a random person had buried them and stuck a piece of wood with writing on it in the ground. Which was exactly what had happened.

She sipped from a can of soda. She'd already texted Arabella to meet up- bored and needing company from someone that wasn't a responsible adult or her girlfriend. Someone who understood the fucked up art of self destruction.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

Arabella approached, her heeled boots making her arrival audible. She’d never quite mastered that whole ‘vigilante walking silently thing’ but she never wanted to, she was the type who wanted her presence known.

The graves were a sorry sight. Different from the ones she was used to seeing in the Drake or Wayne graveyard. Nonetheless, she could feel whoever rested there were loved and missed more than anyone in the Drake graveyard with their expensive gravestones.

The girl sat down next to Arwen, making sure to put her black leather jacket (which was certainly not hers) underneath her. Her clothes were expensive and she liked this dress.

“What you drinking?” She asked, gesturing at the can. She’d brought her own poison in her bag, a pack of cigarettes, a couple blunts, and a water bottle that was filled with vodka. Some stupidly expensive shit she’d stolen from Dick.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It is a 7-up." She sipped again. "Nooothing special."

Arwen's clothes were on the cheaper, grungier side. Ripped jeans, simple graphic shirt, leather jacket, boots. She kept staring at the graves. They'd been written on in whiteboard marker- one read FS, age 7. Another read IS, age 12. The last read, OS, age 27. She ruffled her boyish hair- the way she dressed definitely helped her masculine/androgynous appearance.

"What's up with you?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Right..." Her nose scrunched up at the drink. She'd never liked fizzy drinks (whether that was from her mothers conditioning or her own preference was a mystery).

The boyish look of Arwen compared to the ultra feminine clothes Arabella was wearing almost made her smile. They were so different but so similar.

"Nothing different from the normal. You? You look all brooding and angsty." Arabella knew brooding and angsty. She lived with the people who were the human embodiments of the two.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I'm brooding and angsty because you're my friend and you're destroying yourself and my last three friends are lying riiight in front of you. And I'd like it if my fourth didn't end up in the ground too."

She sipped again.

"You're not untreatable or unloved. You just have complex PTSD or whatever. Someone made you think you are. Or that you're not worth treating or loving. So you're a fucked up case and fucked up shit happened to you. And?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

"Oh my god did you just admit that we're friends? What day is it? What's the time? I need to write this down." Yes. Deflecting the point with stupid comments. The best strategy ever.

"These are your friends, huh?" She looked at the graves, she was curious about their stories but she had a feeling it was not the right time to ask.

"If I was gonna die, end up in the ground, I'd be buried in the Drake lot. You'd have a hard time getting there." It was something she thought about often. When she was younger she was certain that was where she'd rest but now... Maybe the Wayne plot? She was adopted. If not for any emotional love behind the gesture it would be for the sake of appearances.

The suddenness of the other girls blunt words struck hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Arabella laughed nervously. "I'm fucked up, yeah, that's true and I won't try dispute that. I'm not an idiot. But... I just- I don't know. It's complicated. Emotions and all that."

[wrensdivineviolence]

She glanced at Arabella, before pointing at the first grave.

"Florence Solace, died when she was seven years old, internal bleeding, died in front of me. Isobel Solace, died when she was twelve years old, hung herself and me and the other guy walked in on her body. Orion Sonnenfeld, I was forced to murder him."

She then leaned back, sipping the soda again. If Arabella was gonna be reckless, then she was gonna get the blunt story with the details. Some people needed a reality check. Arabella was one of those people.

"Like it or not, you would be missed. I am absolutely fucking haunted by these three. If you think I wouldn't be haunted by you dying, you're stupider than you look. If you think your twin wouldn't tear himself apart, thinking about all the way he could've saved you, you'd be damn fucking mistaken."

"You have issues. You have serious issues. But you're not the only one. You're destroying yourself, and for what? Why? Because someone fucked you up when you were a kid?"

She paused for a moment.

"When you were five years old, what did you want most?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

The description of how those kids had died felt like a sledgehammer to the face. They were kids. So young, so innocent. “You were forced to murder him?” Arabella asked, voice softer and quieter.

“He can’t save me. I’m not- It’s not his job. And he’s got all the others. They’d help pick him up. I’m sure of it.” The mention of Tim stung. He was her little brother. She’d long stopped pretending not to care about him. After the incident at Titans tower she realised her true feelings. “You… You shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be haunted. It’s- It’s inevitable.” Death was just one of those things to Arabella.

She blatantly ignored the questions about what had happened to her. “Shit, when I was five? I guess… I wanted my parents to tell me they loved me. God that sounds fucking pathetic. No. I- I wanted, like, a day with them. I used to imagine us all going out to a museum or something. Anything. Without Tim, just us. We’d walk around and take pictures and they’d hold me and we’d get food or- God that really is pathetic.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a lighter that she’d taken out from her bra.

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Yes. By an older man, who did fucked up shit to get me to do it."

She took her own cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You know what happens when you lose someone who even feels like your sibling? It's a deep hole. Very fucking deep. And nothing will fill it. Nothing at all. You are empty forever and you blame yourself for fucking ever. It doesn't matter if you think it's his job or not. To him, it is his job. And it doesn't matter if you think I shouldn't care. Because you can't stop me from caring, just as much as I can't stop myself caring."

She took another drag, before continuing. Her tone had become harsh and almost angry.

"That child is still there, you know. That five year old you. Your job is to fucking tell her that you love her. And you act like you love her. And you do that by knocking off this idea you have that because someone fucked you up horrifically as a kid, you're not worthy of that. And you at the very least cut down on your goddamn drug intake. Why do you think people are mad at you all the time? Cause of your own choices to kill yourself slowly. Because they care. Worrying is one of the many ways people fucking love you."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“I didn’t- I- Ugh, I don’t have a good response to that. God, you’re making me actually reflect you fucking bitch.” She groaned, leaning back so she was lying on the grass, watching the smoke fade away as she exhaled.

“That kids dead. What does it matter? She was stupid and naive. I just don’t get why what I do is any of their fucking business! If I wanna ruin myself with drugs who cares?” She gritted her teeth. Her anger building but her emotions and words mainly being driven by desperation. She didn’t know what for.

“It hurts me as well! Watching them all go out and come back beaten and bloody. That’s how they cope so why the fuck can’t I? I know it’s bad. Shit, I’ve tried to stop. I’ve gotten so close. I was sober for, like, five months once. But it always fails.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She lies back in the grass, taking another drag as she listens to Arabella rant. While she can see where she's coming from, it doesn't mean she's not going to stop tearing into her like this.

"So why do you destroy yourself with drugs? Why do they go out and come back bloody and beaten? Have you ever actually asked them to stop? Told them how you feel? Or do you just shut down and keep up your dramatic playboy esque act, when you're really breaking down every second you're alone with your thoughts?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“It feels good, alright? You get it. It- It gets rid of the god awful feelings. I feel free, truly free. From my emotions, expectations, just everything.” She sighed, turning her head to look at the other.

“If I asked them to stop they wouldn’t. I know that. They think it’s their duty. Fuck, they’d die rather than stop. Tim especially…” She trailed off, taking another drag before starting again. “It’s not dramatic.” Arabella made a small noise of annoyance. Maybe it was slightly dramatic but she was not going to admit that. Certainly not now and not here. “My thoughts have always been shitty. Everyone knows that. They’re all just so tense around me. Waiting for another outburst or another episode.”

She smirked. “In my last, they were going at me for my ex - the now dead one - and I completely lost it. Started waving a knife around, stabbed Jason. I’d be wary too.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Do I look tense to you? Because I'm not. You could stab me and I'd still come back. I'm a loyal fucking dog."

She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out and watching it dissipate.

"So negotiate with them. You'll cut down the coke and weed, as long as they cut down the dangerous shit they throw themselves into."

She stares at the dark sky, initially not responding to her first statement. Deep in thought.

"And for the record. I don't get it. It never made me feel good. I never wanted to start drinking."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Hah! A little dog, huh? Should I be calling you Pupwen? Nah, I got enough of those types.”

Arabella knew her type. The loyal to a fault. Her best friend had been like that but she’s still left her. Chosen death over living through the suffering with Arabella.

“Negotiate? They’re fucking detectives and shit. I am not winning that.”

The last statement caught her attention more than anything. She lit another cigarette, taking a drag. “No? Why did you then?”

[wrensdivineviolence]

She sighed, taking another long drag.

"That man. He told me to drink, I said no, so he pinned me down and literally poured it down my throat. Drink or drown, baby. I sure as shit drank it voluntarily the next times he asked. Once I needed it to get through the day, he took it away, so I'd do what he wanted."

She gave a brief cough.

"If they really care about you, they'll listen. I negotiate with Roy and Dick just fine."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Well fuck me dude what a dick. Is he dead?” Arabella turned her head to look at Arwen. “If you… You know. You’re ever struggling you can call me or whatever. I’ll probably annoy you enough to distract you.”

She reached into her bag, sitting up and taking a swig from her bottle. The alcohol burning her throat woke her up. It made her feel better. “Yeah? You’re better than me though. With all your control.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"No. He's not."

That was all she said about that.

"And you call me too. As for control? It's a sick joke. I don't have control over shit."

She eyes the alcohol, watching her take a swig. She's silent for a few moments, before reaching over and snatching the bottle, taking a swig. The guilt hit her almost immediately, though she kept her usual blank face.

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“You want him to be?” She asked casually, like any other topic. Arabella watched as Arwen took a swig. “Clearly you don’t. Have control, that is.”

As the sky darkened and the stars came into view, Arabella’s voice was quiet. Barely even there as she spoke. “I was planning on killing myself in three days.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If he dies, it'll be because I do it. Nobody else. And no, I don't have control. Never have. But I'm also not sure what you expected."

She squinted at the stars. Light pollution made it near impossible to see many stars- just the moon and the fewer brighter stars.

"Was? What changed?"

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fair enough. The offer’s there if you want it though. Always will be.” She shrugged, sipping again. “I have no idea what I expected either.”

She exhaled softly, her breath showing in the cold air. “Is it sappy to say you?” She chuckled. “I guess… I don’t know. Feels kinda bitchy to kill myself after you told me about them.” She motioned to the graves. “And I am a bitch but that’s far for even me.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"Not sappy." She took another swig. "But just to be completely clear. You're gonna have to be the one who tells Roy you brought alcohol to me."

She handed the bottle back after that, staring at the dark sky.

"Please don't kill yourself. There's more to life than this. There better be."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Kinda sappy.” She scowled. “Seriously? I’m spilling my guts out to you and you’re gonna make me take the blame!? Like yeah I’ll do it and it’s totally my fault but bitch. He’s going to, like, hang me up in the streets for this.” She took back the bottle, taking a large sip. “You better of enjoyed that.”

She was silent for a while, content to watch the clouds move and the crows fly. “I can’t promise anything but… I’ll try. God knows if I die and then you show up later I’m never hearing the end of it in Hell. Or, well, you seem like the type to go to Heaven. If it exists.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's not sappy, it's hopeful. I can go back to being a miserable pessimist if you really want. And yeah, you're taking the blame, because if I do it, I'll cry so hard I'll throw up, and I'm not at that point with Roy yet."

She took another drag.

"Except for when a blood clot got in my lungs, but that was because I was oxygen deprived and tripping on painkillers, and I decided being held by Roy was a lot less scarier than a doctor."

She put the cigarette out now.

"I'm not going to Heaven. Killed too many people. Murder's a sin or something. Same with hurting others, lying to your parents, cheating on your partner, being jealous of others, all of which I've done. It's hell for me."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“At least I’m more used to the miserable pessimistic act. That act agrees with me, I like that one. As for Roy… Yeah, fair enough. I can’t see you crying in his seems yet.” Arabella stared at the bottle in her hand, contemplating before eventually taking another shot.

“Doctors are assholes. I have never met a good one and I don’t believe Leslie is that nice. She’s hiding something.”

The conversation of the afterlife made her think. Arwen seemed to be a victim of her own situation. A god that punished that wasn’t a god she wanted to believe in. “I guess I’ll see you there. I’ve been there done that. I blackmailed Bruce once, before when I moved in with Tim. I didn’t trust him at all.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"I used to be fine with doctors. Then I had chemotherapy and some traumatic complications, and now me and doctors don't get on anymore. Never seen Leslie. Don't plan to. Roy takes me to QueensGuard instead. Says they're more trauma informed or something."

She kept staring at the sky.

"I'm not religious anyway. Never seen divine intervention. Divine violence, I've seen that. That's what I believe in."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Fucking hell, everything you tell me somehow just gets worse. You know that, right?” She wondered about the QueensGuard place. “Is it good? My lot have been trying to get me to see a trauma specialist. One that I won’t manage to terrorise anyway.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"It's good. I mean, I don't see them for.. trauma reasons, but they're good with trauma informed medical care. And they're.. ran by someone who... has experienced a lot, without me spilling their details. Someone who understands what it's like to have so many people not know how to cope with you."

She sat up to sip her soda again.

"And you don't need a trauma specialist. You need a complex trauma specialist, and probably dialectical behavioural therapy to at least stabilise you. But you have to want to try it and they'll also want you off drugs."

[arabella-drake-wayne]

“Stop calling me out. It’s just one train after another talking to you.” She sat up as well, crossing her legs and fiddling with the grass. “I know. Treatment doesn’t work unless you try and all that… I just feel like some sort of hopeless case or whatever.”

[wrensdivineviolence]

"If you were a hopeless case, I wouldn't be here talking to you, you know. I would've let you run yourself into the ground and not given a single fuck."