Gotham night's
- Reads 787
- Votes 38
- Parts 18
MatureOngoing1h 25m
Last published Tue, Mar 19, 2019
THE BATSHIT KIND OF LOVE THAT MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL AND AT THE SAME TIME.... ALL THE SENSE IN THE WORLD.......THAT IS US... YOU AND ME A WE
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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARNComplete
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--- Nothing Is Everything. No one knows where it started... and no one knows when it'll end. She appears to be sweet, innocent, and soft - the kind of woman everyone would protect. But beneath that smile lies something far darker. A master of martial arts, a lethal markswoman, fluent in five languages, and cold as ice. She is the blade - sharp, deadly, and unforgiving - her innocence nothing but a façade. He fell for the illusion. He thought he could tame her. But he soon realized that she is not the fragile flower he believed her to be. She is the predator, and he... he is the prey. He doesn't love her. He never did. Yet, he gladly bleeds for her. He sacrifices for her. Why? Because, in his twisted obsession, he finds himself addicted to the darkness she offers - even if it's not love. It's the power she holds over him, the terror that runs through his veins every time she's near. He knows she'll destroy him, but he can't stop himself. He craves the pain, the danger, the chaos. For some reason, her cruelty is the only thing that makes him feel alive. Their bond is not one of love, but of possession. She doesn't need him to love her. She only needs him to submit, to obey, to bleed. And despite everything - despite the danger, despite the torment - he can't walk away. He is consumed by the thrill of being her prey, and in that twisted obsession, he finds his truth. In a world where everything is a game of power and manipulation, they are locked in a dance of survival. She is the blade, and he is the sacrifice. And in the end, nothing is what it seems - and everything is a price to pay. ---Complete
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