Poisoned Star
parsonsia
  • Reads 253
  • Votes 17
  • Parts 13
  • Time 2h 22m
  • Reads 253
  • Votes 17
  • Parts 13
  • Time 2h 22m
parsonsia
Complete, First published Jun 28, 2018
akuemofictionmerepekjepoisonedstarromancestarteenunrequited-loveunrequitedlovewattys2018
She looked up to the star for comfort, but she couldn't reach it.  As she tried to reach for it, she found that the star isn't the twinkling star she thought it would be. 

The star is a poisoned star. The more she needs it, the more it harms her.  

He is her poisoned star. She wants him but she can't have him. 


"But... is there such thing as poisoned star?" he asks, killing the vibe. 

"Of course, there isn't," 

"Yeah... because all stars are dead. Stars are just dead things." 

She looks up at the sky. That is something she clearly knows, that she has always known as a star lover. "Perhaps that's is why I called us stars. Because there's no such thing as twinkling stars, it is just a childish concept. Like us. There is no 'we'. There is no 'us'. There can never be you and me."
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akuemofictionmerepekjepoisonedstarromancestarteenunrequited-loveunrequitedlovewattys2018
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13 parts

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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 cover
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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

48 parts Complete Mature

"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 WARN

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