CALL IT.

RULES.  ABOUT.  VERSES.  INTEREST TRACKER.

this blog is LOW ACTIVITY. i disappear for long periods of time. 

mun & muse are 25+. blog is restricted to 18+ only. shipping is very selective. this blog is private, and i will only interact with mutuals. read rules before following. low activity and plotting preferred.

          “Don’t get smart.” It’s at least said in a vaguely casual way, as if he wasn’t truly offended, but perhaps bordering on offense. “It was supposed to be sarcastic.” Though, he should know by now that being sarcastically self-deprecating was going to leave him wide open for remarks like that.

NAME:   harvey dent/two-face

RESIDENCE:   various places around gotham city, NJ. if he’s had the time and resources, it’s horribly gaudy, with all of the decor split down the middle of the rooms.

TYPE OF BED:   varies, but he prefers at least a full bed. it’s always in the middle of the room, with the head against a wall.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS:  two.

NUMBER OF PILLOWS:   two.

TYPE OF CLOTHING:   either just a pair of pajama pants or his underwear, though he sometimes falls asleep mostly or fully clothed in his suits.

DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY?:   almost never.

DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY?:   it depends.

DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP?:   they both sleep better in an actual bed with proper bedding, but they can sleep just about as well (or rather, poorly) anywhere. they’ve slept on a dirty mattress on the floor, or passed out drunk directly on the floor before.

WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP?:   a lot of the time two-face can’t sleep because he’s obsessing over something, so he’ll just stay engrossed in whatever it is. other times, he’s just not doing well mentally/emotionally, and in that case, he drinks.

FREQUENT DREAMS,  NIGHTMARES:   they both have nightmares of their childhood, sometimes. two-face has had nightmares of being torn in half by angels and demons. harvey has nightmares about the things two-face has done.

DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS:  either.

WHEN DO THEY SLEEP:  usually at night, but they don’t have a regular sleeping schedule.

WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP:   literally anything, unless they’re just unconscious.

Perhaps it would be disingenuous, deceitful even, to take him into the safety of her embrace. To clasp her needy arms around him and breathe in his scent. To confirm his safety through senses other than sight. Such a reunion isn’t in the cards for them, however. Instead, she takes a step backwards, eyes never leaving his face but body needing to create space. Another chaotic event in the city is being relayed on the television, a shaken reporter describing the horrors. She could dwell here for a century, two centuries, and still Diana would never be able to stomach the horrors that plague this city. The horrors that are, at times, instigated by the man she’s been sharing a bed with for the last few months. Diana looks at him now, really looks at him, in the way that sears into the soul. ❛ Tell me this wasn’t you, ❜ she says. She pleads. 

@dosdeux​ / starter call.

          His eyes subtly glimpse at the screen, one hand buried in his pants pocket. It isn’t as if he never expected Diana to see him for who he is -- in fact, he thought she knew exactly the sort of man he was from the start. But she’s so willing to see the good in everyone, even when there isn’t any. At some point before this moment, he realized she must have believed he was a changed man, or at least one who was capable of change, and he doesn’t want her to know the truth.

          It isn’t his decision, and he has to flip the coin before answering, an act that might itself give away the fact that he’s lying. “It wasn’t me. Of course it wasn’t.” He risks stepping closer to her, even reaching a hand out for his fingers to graze her arm just below her shoulder. 

SPOTIFY WRAPPED MEME   accepting.

HE ASKS HER TO stay longer, as if Diana hasn’t already derailed everything entirely by staying for just another night. She closes her eyes, searching for a peace that is now firmly out of her grasp. She forgot how persistent he could be, how committed to his own failure he was at times. It’s like he’s pushing a gun into her hands and begging her to hurt him. Because they both know she can’t stay in the capacity that he wants her to. And she can’t come back either, because there was nothing for her to return to in the first place. 

❛ That would depend on why you needed me to stay. ❜ It’s the kindest way she can think of to deny him. The most direct way she can think of to mitigate his hurt. She continues. ❛ Because I could stay for a night or a month, but I wouldn’t change my mind. I still couldn’t give you what you want to hear. I’ll never be able to do that. ❜ She’s shooting him with the metaphorical gun now. Again. 

❛ But if you needed me, really needed me, of course I would stay for as long as… ❜ For as long as she could until someone needed her more. She doesn’t say that. ❛ Is that really what you need, though? ❜ Is it even really what he wants? She doesn’t say that, either. 

          The way he grimaces and turns his head is reminiscent of a reaction to physical pain. Does her dedication to the truth mean she has to keep reminding him of it? For once, he thinks he’d prefer to be lied to by way of omission, at least for a while. It was the entire idea behind tonight, wasn’t it? Only Diana wasn’t playing along like he’d planned and intended.

          He’d like to flip on it, but neither he nor Harvey really knows what they want or where to go from here. Every step of the way, things seem to become more and more unclear. In the end he knows he’ll be begging her to stay once it’s time for her to go, but he can’t allow it to happen so easily, not just yet.

she  lands  quietly,  like  a  gentle  death.  cassandra  is  a  shadow  on  the  gotham  backdrop,  an  actor  drifting  behind  the  curtain  long  after  the  show  is  done.  being  threatening  is  no  large  effort  for  the  girl  who  was  raised  to  be  a  hidden  threat,  a  knife  in  an  open  palm:  she  drops  behind  dent,  her  quiet,  solemn  voice  the  only  warning  he  gets  in  the  quietness  of  the  room.  “two-face.”  her  snarl  does  not  sound  like  the  batman’s,  not  to  her  own  ears.  it  will  suffice.  “i  have…questions.”

@dosdeux liked !

Well, mister, if you meant to stab her right in the heart, then you did just that! Harley recoils, and despite her best efforts, it’s visible in the way her nose curls. In the way her eyes narrow. She ain’t so keen on being reminded that she’s been dumped yet again, this time by the person she thought couldn’t hurt a fly! Well, it turns out Harley Quinn is worth less than a fly. She could almost cry about it. But she decides to be a taunting pain in his ass instead. 

❛ You call her princess, huh? What is that? Some kinda term of endearment or somethin’? ❜ She licks her lips real loudly, smacking the two petals together. ❛ Nah, I think you got it just as bad as I do for her. So what went wrong? Are you a two pump chump or somethin’? Or maybe you just couldn’t get it up at all? Or maybe she just finally realized your personality is shit? My guess is all the above! ❜ 

          She was just about half right, though he had yet to admit that much to himself. (For the record, that first thing she mentioned only happened twice, but that’s none of Harley’s business.)