Iactura (A Mystery Skulls Animated Fanfiction)
  • Reads 4,135
  • Votes 150
  • Parts 34
  • Time 14h 25m
  • Reads 4,135
  • Votes 150
  • Parts 34
  • Time 14h 25m
Ongoing, First published Nov 01, 2019
Mature
(SLOW UPDATES)

Noun. iactūra f (genitive iactūrae); first declension. a throwing away. throwing overboard, jettison quotations; (figuratively) sacrifice.

That night in the cave, a man was supposed to have been pushed off by his possessed best friend and potential love interest and land in front of his other love, whose memories would be erased of him to save her from the trauma of seeing him die. That man was also supposed to come back a vengeful wraith, determined to get revenge on the friend who he thought betrayed him, the one who lost his arm to a kitsune disguised as a dog.

But that didn't happen.
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"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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27 parts Complete

How easy it is to let go of things that the heart wants to stay? Is only love enough to heal the brokenness we carry with us? "We carry these things inside us That no one else can see; They hold us down like anchors, They drown us at the sea !" ********** PS. The story contains mentions of PTSD and descriptions of sexual harrasment, depression and other such themes. Kindly skip or avoid if you're not comfortable with it.