#* revoide .

[laughshe-a]

‘ if you can, i can ’ : @revoide​  ──────    SHARP OBJECTS MEME

               harleen remained seated, gazing at the other woman with a small smirk lingering over her lips . the laziness of each of her movements was the telltale sign of a woman who had let go . there was nothing she could control . nothing she could change in gotham or its’ people . nothing she could change about herself . it was so therapeutic ; GIVING UP .         ❝       atta girl .    ❞    dr. kopski cheered . the raspiness of her voice could be blamed on several things : the bottle of whiskey she had been flirting with for the past few hours , the chain smoking that came with drinking alone and the crying session harleen had forced upon herself .   ───  it had been a while since she had had an emotional outburst like that . YOU SHOULDN’T BOTTLE THINGS UP , wasn’t that what harley had always told her patients ?

                her elbow bumped into the whiskey next to her , causing it to fall and crash onto the floor . there were glass shards all around her  (  looks like we won’t be bottling up anything from now on  !  ) .  the blonde arched her eyebrows momentarily , her response to the loud noise too slow , too nonchalant .      ❝       woops .    ❞    dr. kopski turned her head away from the crime scene to focus back on her visitor .      ❝       sorry toots . turns out you can’t have what you want due to the carelessness and indifference of a third party you owe nothing to , despite us being both equal and capable women who deserve to have their demands , at the very least , heard .    ❞    harleen reached for a cigarette that had been dangling between her ear and one dried up lock of hair .  she placed it in her mouth and nearly started crying again when she couldn’t find her lighter .      ❝      there’s beer in the fridge , just help yourself .   ❞    

[hellhim]

❛ let me out of here ! let me go ! ❜ ━━  @revoide

                   he had been struggling to balance the phone between his ear and his shoulder while simultaneously loading his gun . each bullet that clicked into place was a word that he struggled to remember . each lingering moment of silence was an opportunity for his current prisoner to act out . SHE WAS LOUD . every cry for help seemed to surpass the previous one , a crescendo in dramatics that hellboy had not predicted . still , her pleading wasn’t quite as convincing as her laughter had been , as her wondering stare , as the way dried blood stuck to the most unexpected bits of skin . 

                       the big red agent had noticed that . and he had been warned countless times about her . CHARLOTTE was the name she gave out but that wasn’t what the boys back at the bureau called her : THE VOID   (  whatever the hell that meant  )  wore her and made her wriggle around like a puppet . that distressed kid definitively wasn’t what she seemed . and had they not warned him time and time again , hellboy would have had a harder time convincing himself to throw this distressed young woman in a cage . his conscience had permitted him to get rid of any crumbs of sympathy he might have had when he was shown pictures of her last couple of perpetrations .     ━━    how could someone so small spread so much chaos ?

                     ❝   hold on a second , liz .   ❞         he mumbled into the phone , finally giving up on his task and slamming his half-loaded gun onto the table .        ❝   hey , blondie !   ❞        hellboy spun around and pointed one large stone index at the girl behind the glass wall . the frown on his features was enough of a threat . hellboy looked intimidating to most people without even trying . he expected charlotte to not be an exception .        ❝    ZIP IT .   ❞         his yellow eyes lingered on her , as if they were the only thing keeping her from acting out . slowly however , his demeanor softened and he turned his back to her once more only to return to his very important call .        ❝     so yeah , i’m gonna have extra pepperoni ...   ❞       

[ethicsbutcher]

‘ 𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝. ’ / @revoide​

                  many people had sat on the exact same chair charlotte currently leaned against. the doctor had been as careful as he possibly could, but the dark leather had started showing the first signs of old age. he could practically see the faint scratches on the fabric, like distant lighting bolts ripping through a night sky. though hannibal knew he shouldn’t. he shouldn’t be able to spot them because a young woman sat there. her back was pressed against the worn out cushion and, last time he had checked, ms. olesen was quite opaque. 

                     dr. lecter examined her closely. both of his heavily-hooded eyes shifted across her face, taking in the curves and edges of her cranium, memorising the shade of her hair and the colour of her eyes ... but the more he tried to remember her, the more he came to realise he couldn’t. it wasn’t as if charlotte was exceptionally forgettable, she simply felt very far away. it was as if they were sitting on completely different rooms, communicating through half-open windows. a thought crossed hannibal’s mind;   had he imagined charlotte?       (  𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴?  )        the doctor smiled faintly as he considered his patient’s words.

                   “ decency requires conformity to preconceived morals. though one could argue that any form of morality built by a violent society is intrinsically flawed . ”  his lips curved ever so slightly. a smile as faint as charlotte’s presence touched hannibal’s features. there was something almost playful in his next words . “ to conform would be very indecent of you, charlotte. ”  

[laughshe]

[INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM : MORNING ] : THIS LIFE   STARTER FOR @revoide​

                        harleen had sat in her office for what felt like an eternity before walking into the therapy room where charlotte waited . her heavily-lidded eyes had stared at the numerous piles of paperwork sitting on her desk , unblinkingly , as she slowly came to terms with the overwhelming lack of interest that had been taking a hold of her for the last few weeks . arkham asylum was as dirty as all the other cogs keeping the monstrous machine that was GOTHAM CITY working . the little girl which had always wanted to help save people now laid dormant in some dusty corner of harleen’s mind , overwhelmed by the stench of rust around her . what was she doing there , really ? besides helping gangsters avoid getting sent to blackgate and prescribing outrageous amounts of medication to make the troubled numb and quiet ? how was she any different from her supervisors , who stuck their noses so far up the pharmacy industry’s ass they had become immune to the SMELL OF SHIT ?

                           “   good morning miss olesen .   ”   the blonde greeted as the door shut behind her . harley still didn’t look like she was fully awake . truth be told , ever since clowns had begun taking over news headlines , the whole world seemed a lot fuzzier than usual . like none of this was real ; just a boring opening act for the audience to battle through before they got to see the MAIN EVENT .   “   i am doctor kopski . i was asked by gotham’s police department to conduct a short psychological evaluation in order to determine which facilities would best accommodate you .   ”   there was no warmth in her voice . all of this had been rehearsed and played out a hundred times before . accommodate , HA ! no one was actually concerned about charlotte olesen’s needs . they just wanted to know which place would keep her best hidden from the public ; prison or the looney bin . after a quick examination of her features , dr. kopski determined arkham might be only slightly KINDER TO HER . blackgate’s staff were infamous for their less than subtle inmate harassment tendencies . harleen looked away from charlotte to focus on her folder .   “   so do you wanna tell me about ...   ”    her brow furrowed as she went over the GCPD’s files . a long list of crimes that spread for at least five pages forced harleen to adjust her glasses .   “  uh . any ... any of the crimes you’ve been accused of recently ?   ”  

[laughshe-a]

“ i will be back though, ” : @revoide​   ──────    FLEABAG MEME

                                 she wasn’t sure how it all had happened . one second charlotte was in her padded cell and the next the whole building was red , BRIGHT RED ! blinking warning lights showed the way to the nearest exit , the buzzing of the lightbulbs rattled harley’s brain . she fell on her ass and sat there with her back against the wall , watching charlotte step out of her cell , bare foot against concrete , the human flesh hitting the floor  ( always remember , it’s the landing that counts , harley !  ) . harley’s hands trembled as she raised them to her face , both unsure which part of her they ought to shield from that vision . charlotte turned around and spoke to her . “ i will be back, though . ”    ───   and then the lights went out . and then they came back on . and amidst all the chaos and sound , harleen caught a glimpse of herself .

                             paler , smaller , weirder ... but that was her escaping arkham’s cell . a woman misunderstood , a woman incomplete , a woman that couldn’t find herself  ( SHE’S NOT THERE , YA BIG DUMBO ! ) . her hair looked like a mess though , like it was made of white straw . harley’s fingers had to run through it . no , the hair on her head felt soft and combed . whatever version of herself that was didn’t care much about keeping appearances ( tell ya what , you keep that up harleen and you won’t be gettin’ a promotion any time soon !  ) . she looked like a mess . a dried out , clueless , no-hope-left-for mess . and harley LOVED THAT . dr. kopski could do little more than stare at the inmate with wide bulging eyes , letting her mind slip into a space where nothing but blond girls covered in red existed . 

                           ❝       wait !   ❞    harleen reached for her pants’ pocket and threw her car’s key at the escaping inmate . there was a moment of silence between the two . the psychiatrist shrugged at charlotte .  ❝       what , ya need me to draw you a damn picture ? go !    ❞    she’d let herself go this time . just this once , she’d allow herself out of that damn ASYLUM the world had turned into . i will be back though ... don’t . don’t fucking bother .

[hebelieves]

❝ don’t feel bad for me. ❞

* 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚃𝙷𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 : 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽

                   He tried to keep his eyes on the road. But it was hard to focus on anything but the bright shade of red that clung to Charlotte’s hair. Blood was drying up her blond locks into a tangled up nest somewhere on the side of her head. Dirt still clung to half of her clothes and every once in a while he heard a pebble detaching itself from the fibers of her shirt and falling onto the car’s floor. SHE LOOKED LIKE SHE HAD DUG HER WAY OUT OF HELL. But only when streetlights brushed over her figure. In the dark she was just a woman sitting back against a leathered seat. Though even there, where he couldn’t see her, Shadow thought she looked sad.  ❝   Easier said than done.   ❞       He replied dryly, his brows knitted into an expression of both worry and weariness. Shadow always battled with both whenever he was around Charlotte. The intense desire to AID HER INTO WELLNESS was only surpassed by his unspoken and misunderstood FEAR OF HER. Shadow didn’t understand the blonde. He couldn’t tell what made her eyes go from bright green bonfires to quiet pitch blackness. Those sudden mood swings made him uneasy, unsure if he was strong enough to keep looking. But he wished he was if only so he could find whatever it was that HAUNTED HER.

                   A hand moved slowly to peel back a curtain of straight blonde hair, hoping that the blood on her was someone else’s ( a hope he’d later come to battle with before falling asleep ) but found yet more layers of red. Darker shades. As if he was peeking into the bowels of some WOUNDED ANIMAL. His fingers lingered there for a moment. But rather than tucking those locks behind her ear he let his hand fall back on the wheel and the curtain to close once more. HE COULDN’T LOOK.       ❝      ━━  Jesus, Charlotte.   ❞    

[wednesdeus-blog]

❝ i don’t want my fortune told. ❞

* HEAD FULL OF SNOW : OPEN

            Wednesday’s brows shot up when hearing Charlotte’s little protest. His man, Shadow Moon, had a bad habit of picking up strays from the side of the road. His big heart was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place. Wasting his life away in the name of DEAD WOMEN. In ancient times, one might have called him a romantic. Mr. Wednesday saw this as the purest form of FOOLISHNESS. Dead women could offer nothing to the likes of them. Whatever wisdom she might hold, Odin had already collected it. Her affection? A pair of cold pale hands clawing at men’s beating hearts, hungry to hold them against their own hollow chests. NONSENSE! No man wanted that.     ❝  My dear girl, that’s an absolutely abhorrent statement to be made by a creature of your condition !  ❞    The old god declared, looking at Charlotte as if he were genuinely disappointed.

                             ❝  What fortune do you think you could possibly have?  ❞    His one good eye watched her mercilessly, taking in her features, trying to see whatever it was Shadow Moon had seen. Pale lips and wide empty eyes, perhaps she reminded him of his deceased wife. THAT WAS NO GOOD. Couldn’t have his traveling companion’s head worrying about anything else besides their HOLY CRUSADE. Wednesday leaned over the table separating them, flashing his white teeth at her, biting the air with his next announcement.    ❝  You’re dead. Less than dead as a matter of fact, you’re NO MORE.  ❞    He said, waggling his fingers as if to imitate Charlotte’s own DISSIPATION INTO THIN AIR.    ❝  Barely a fly on the wall. You’re more of a, let’s say…Piece of gum, hm? Once bright and full of chemically infused aromas, reminding people of freshly picked berries ready for the taking. Now?  ❞    Wednesday examined her from head to toe and sniffed before mumbling against the rim of his glass.

   ❝  You’re practically part of the pavement I step on.  ❞