browniewithagun

[browniewithagun]

The wind — no longer a gentle breeze — gnawed at my skin.

 Below, the sea clawed and smashed against the rocks, each wave a hammer blow from the gods themselves.

 The gods do not take kindly to mortals who defy their will.

 But no fate, no curse is worse than this.

 I will not be a bride to something, some monster.

With a shaky hand, I peered over the cliff’s edge.

 The rocks below did not look like rocks at all, but swords and daggers waiting to claim me.

 At least it would be a quick death, I thought.

I stepped closer with shaky feet, my vision blurred. I raised my arms to my side and stepped off the jagged edge. Finally, the world doesn't feel like it's crushing me with every step I take. The rushing air smashing against my skin weirdly felt like a hug.

The roar of the sea grew louder, closer —

 And then, nothing.

No impact. No pain.

The wind that had gnawed at me moments ago now cradled me as though I weighed nothing at all.

 It enveloped me, warm and scented with wildflowers carried from far-off meadows.

I felt myself raised, carried effortlessly upward.

 The cliffs and ragged rocks shrank away beneath me, the sea becoming no more than a ribbon of silver in the moonlight.

“Be still, princess,” it said. “You are under my keeping now.”

said a gentle whisper

I knew then — this was no mortal rescue.

The West Wind himself, Zephyrus, bore me away.

I was flying in the sky, I felt as though I could touch the stars, I could finally breathe, I had not known that I had been holding my breath until this moment.

The jagged, cruel world now turned lush green and gentle, colours so bright and vivid, but so gentle, filled my eyes even in the dead of night; they looked gorgeous. I could only imagine what they would look like tomorrow, mourning.

Zephyrus slowed, his voice brushing past my ear again.

“Here is where I leave you.”

The grass felt like silk beneath my feet, and it was warm.

 I looked up, and I saw it — a palace unlike anything in my father’s kingdom. The bright, vivid colours looked even more beautiful up close, gardens spilling over with flowers I had never seen. Among the moonlit blooms, one caught my eye — a spire of deep blue blossoms climbing skyward as if reaching for the sky. The petals shimmered, each marked with the faintest brush of violet at its heart. They swayed in the wind as if zephyrs were hugging them, caressing them. Something about them felt… mournful, as if they had been born from a story I did not yet know — a story where beauty came only after loss. I can only pray that that is a fate I will never know.

I entered the palace, my hands clenched. Was this monster a curse or a blessing, but what if it was like me, misunderstood, unwanted, a curse bestowed on them

“Welcome, my lady,” a voice murmured — from everywhere but nowhere at once. I turned, but saw no one. The faint rustle of curtains stirred.

Was this the monster’s voice? Or some spirit sent to greet me?

I should have been afraid. Instead, I felt that same strange ache as when I first saw the blue flowers — a beauty shadowed by some invisible sorrow.

"Who are you?" I said my voice was shaky

For a moment, only silence. Then, warm as breath against my ear, the answer came:

"Your husband, my bride"

I stumbled back in shock, losing my footing. I fell back in shock, and I felt strong, muscular arms catching me.

"Careful", it laughed.

"Come now", it said in a hauntingly beautiful tone ", I have a surprise for you"

I was led to the kitchen. The smell of warm bread

And honey, a table filled with bread, honey-glazed mushrooms, spiced buns, maza with olives and olive oil, spiced grain and legume stuffing and two glasses of wine as red as blood and two beautiful plates of grilled fish. A single chair slid out from under the table.

"Please sit, my love", the voice said. A vase of the beautifully haunting violet flower sat in the centre. I need to be smart to avoid this fate. “Please sit, my love,” the voice coaxed.

And though every thought in my head screamed for caution… I obeyed.

The chair creaked softly beneath me as I settled into it, the warmth of the room wrapping around me. The scent of the honeyed mushrooms mixed with the light fragrance of the violet flowers at the table’s centre

“Do not fear,” the voice murmured again, smooth and soft. “You are safe here, with me.”

I searched desperately for the source of the noise. No shadow moved, no shape formed — only the faint flicker of candlelight dancing against the walls.

“Why… why bring me here?” I asked. A soft laugh filled the room, neither harsh nor cruel. “Because you deserve kindness, and a chance to breathe. Not all that is unknown is meant to harm you.”

This monster and I may have more in common than I thought. They did not ask for this.

“Eat,” the voice urged softly, “and rest. Tomorrow, the story begins anew.”

I took a slow sip of the wine, feeling the warmth spread through me, chasing away some of the cold that had long since settled in my bones. The palace, the flowers, the voice — all felt like a dream I always wanted

But one thing was clear: here, in this strange sanctuary, I was not alone. I was home.

Later that night, the sky was a velvet canvas spotted with stars. I lay back on the grass, the cool earth beneath me, and felt a warmth wrap around my shoulders—like a tender, unseen embrace. A gentle breeze stirred the petals of the blue flowers nearby, their faint scent swirling around me.

A whisper of laughter floated in the air, delicate and light, yet filled with joy. The stars above shimmered brighter, as if responding to a presence I could not see but deeply felt.

As I traced constellations with my fingers, a soft touch traced mine—light, fleeting, like a feather’s caress. The night held no fear here, only the quiet magic of being known and cherished.

"You're gorgeous", they said

I felt the thick arms wrap tier around me "Thank you", I said, a smile forming on my lips. The wind, no doubt, Zephyrus, danced with leaves and flower petals, but the violet flowers did not join. Weird. The wind caught me again, lifting me gently from the ground. The sky stretched endlessly, cool and bright with stars. Around me, flowers bloomed instantly at my touch—petals unfurling in a cascade of blues and violets, shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

A soft laughter echoed, like sunlight through leaves, though no one was visible. I felt a hand, unseen but steady, guiding me through the air, steadying my flight. The breeze carried whispers of something ancient, something kind.

Though invisible, the presence was unmistakable—watchful, tender, and real. I was soaring, not alone but held, cradled by a love I could neither see nor fully understand.

"Come, my bride", the sweet honey voice said, "let me guide you"

I laughed, feeling the chains of this world release their grasp from me.

We danced, the starlight shined above me, illuminating me, the strong arms enveloping me, my heart skipped a beat, a rush of blood ran to my cheeks.

"Who are you?" I asked

"That is the one question I can not answer," the voice sighed "I'm sorry"

I nestled closer into the unseen arms, and the night surrounded us in its quiet embrace. The stars twinkled softly, the moon casting silver light across the flowers blooming beneath us—except for the violet spire, which remained still, almost watching.

“Why can’t you answer me?” I whispered.

Some truths,” the voice murmured, “are too heavy to carry all at once. They must be revealed like petals in time, gently, when the heart is ready.”

I closed my eyes, letting the soft warmth on my skin. For the first time in what felt like forever, fear eased its grip. I'm no longer a prisoner nor prey.

“Will you stay?” I asked, my voice a fragile thread in the vast night.

“Always,” it breathed, a vow carried on the breeze. “Until you know who you truly are... and who I am meant to be.”

The stars above seemed to pulse with understanding, their light steady and sure.

I smiled, leaning into the invisible embrace, ready to trust the unknown.

[browniewithagun]

My ao3 account is WreckThisDiary

[browniewithagun]

I clapped to the ground, the ground bruising my knees, the dirt coating me like a blanket, my hands rushing to my swollen abdomen, where she was, my daughter, at least that's what I think. Every time she moves and kicks in my womb, I can only hope she's ok.

Now that I have your attention, let's begin at the start.

I knelt by the stache of her- Aphrodite, rose quartz, seashells and peals by her feet, the warm, gentle, almost inviting glow of a candle surrounding the altar, tears threatening to spill, but I refuse to let them fall after all, 'princess never cry'

At least that's what my mother always said.

"Oh Aphrodite, bring me love, bring me peace, my lady, I beg," I say in my voice horse.

My whole life, I've been treated as an object, a glass doll, only to be admired, never touched, to be worshipped from afar, treated as something too precious for this world and not a human. I may be a princess, but I am no god and do not deserve to be treated as such.

It was nightfall when I walked out of the temple. The stars shone above me, I felt the soft grass beneath my feet, the wind caresing my face almost as if wiping the tears from my face, I sighed heavily, the feeling of loneliness is something I should have grown accustomed to long ago, but at last I have not.

I wandered around, not wanting to return home just yet. I needed more time away from it all. In the pale light, two swans lay nestled together, ivory feathers gleaming like moonlit snow. Their necks curved toward one another even in sleep. Did you know that swans mate for life? That's why they're my favourite animal, they know what love is... what real love is, wild animals and yet they know and have experienced so much more than I.

The next morning, I returned to the temple — not to pray, but to clean. The wine I left as an offering had soured in the summer's night heat. The incense was reduced to nothing but ash. Inside the temple, there were 3 women. In their possession, there were expensive silks, perfume and a silver mirror adorned with pearls. The moment I stepped in, they rushed towards me.

“For you,” one said, pressing the scarf into my hands. “We brought gifts.”

“I’m not the goddess,” I said quietly, stepping back.

The other two smiled in return “But you are," one said, bowing so low I'm surprised she did not sink into the ground. More footsteps followed. A dozen, maybe more. Men and women — dressed in festival colours, bearing garlands, bowls of pomegranate seeds, and vials of oil. And none of it was for the statue.

One by one, they came to me. Bowing. Kneeling. Offering. Praising. To, I tried to correct them to let them down gently, but they heard none of it. My voice was washed away by their praise, by their twisted version of love. I stood there, silent a glass doll none dared to touch me i tried to push pass them but they remaind crowded around me as i looked up to the the now empty stachue of aphrodite theyre voices drowned out a feeling of dread bubbling in my stomache and chest I knew, in that instant, I had taken something that was never mine to hold.

Not love. Not beauty.

Worship.

And the gods do not forgive theft.

I felt sick when they finally left the offering scattered by my feet, not hers, their prayers still ringing in my ears, I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for this. I never thought beauty could be a curse, but now I see it for what it is — a gilded cage with no door. I cried and couldn't hold back. I'm not a princess, I'm a prisoner, a prisoner who no one wants to see, a prisoner who no one wants to hear. I'm better seen and not heard, that is my story, that is my end.

I watched the sun set, my eyes burning red, my skin prickling, the sensation of a thousand needles punching my face. I'm sure my face was swollen and red. Behind me, I heard my sisters snicker and laugh amongst each other.

Careful,” Aglaura said, scrunching up her nose at the perfume the 3 women from the altar had all but bathed me in. “Too much perfume and you might start to believe you are a goddess.”.

Cidippe snorted from her seat by the mirror. “She already does. Have you seen the way she walks now? Like her feet don’t touch the ground.”

I stared at them, too tired to fight but too scared to sleep. They continued talking, but I could not gather the strength to listen.

“We’re just worried,” Cidippe said, draping herself dramatically across the couch. “This kind of attention doesn’t last. Beauty fades. Even yours, dear sister.”

“Especially yours,” Aglaura echoed.

They laughed — not cruelly, not loudly, but with that practised softness only sisters can wield when they want to draw blood.

I forced a smile. “Thank you for the advice.”

“Oh, Psyche,” Cidippe said, rising to kiss my cheek. “You should enjoy this while you can. Before someone prettier comes along… or worse, the gods notice.”

Early next morning, I heard my parent talking.

"How will we find a proper suitor for her?" my father asked my mother, "when all men are too intimidated by her and all women are either jealous of her or worship her?"

My mother did not answer, at first, she stared at my father "We have Aglaura and Cidippe she said Many kings are willing to pay extremely high dowries; we do not need her"

"She has been cursed, and it is ruining this family", said my father. I stood outside their chambers, my hand firmly clasped over my mouth as not to make a single peep. I felt my knees shake, my shoulders tremble, and my hot breath against the palm of my hand.

"We will go to the oracle", my father started, "they can lift the curse or..." My father did not finish the sentence. We all knew what he was referring to.

In the evening, they dressed me in a wedding gown.

Not white, but ash-grey. Threaded with gold.

My mother wept behind closed doors. My sisters watched in silence, wearing pity like perfume — sweet and cloying and meant for display.

And my father?

He would not meet my eyes.

He only offered his arm, stiff and trembling, and walked me through the town like a lamb to slaughter. The oracle said I was to marry a monster; it was the will of the gods.

I deserve this, don't I?

When we reached the jagged cliff, my father stopped.

“This is the place,” he said. His voice cracked. He would not look at me.

And with that, he let go of my arm.

"Father…” I whispered.

“The gods have spoken,” he said, too quickly. “We must obey.”

Just like that.

He left me there, in the wind and the cold, and walked back down the path without another word.

I was not a bride. I was an offering.

And whatever waited in the shadows — beast, or death itself, I will wait, wait for the gods and fates to decide my fate.

[browniewithagun]

Lying under the fig tree, the sun flittering through the branches adorned with plump, juicy figs, stretching, I felt the soft grass beneath my back. Beside me lay Hyacinthus; he looked beautiful, the summer sun dancing across his face, cradling it, with a gentleness I had not known to exist. In this light, he almost resembled a god. "Did I ever tell you I invented the bow and arrow?" I said, Hyacinthus turned to me, a smile forming on his face, a cheeky, almost cocky shine forming in his eyes. "You’ve told me many things that you invented fire, and that you can speak the language of the swans." He reached up, plucking a fig from above and biting into it. The juice stained his lips like wine. "And yet you never believe me," I replied, mock-wounded. He laughed at my attempted self-pity, throwing the half-eaten fig at my face, which dropped to the ground. I picked it up, bringing it to my lips, taking a bite of soft fruit.

The sweetness lingered on my tongue, enmeshed with the taste of his laughter. I turned toward him "You mock me now," I stated, "but one day you’ll find a forgotten statue in some overgrown grove, bow in hand, and you’ll remember me."

Hyacinthus turned to me, his dark curls catching the sunlight.

"I don't need a statue, I’ll remember you regardless," he said.

A rush of blood ran to my face. I looked at the boy who Aphrodite herself would envy, the boy who had my heart, my soul, my breath in the palm of his hands. He is my world, a feeling bubbled up in my chest, a sense of gentleness and desire.

"You know you always talk about your bow", he said, his lips forming into a smile. He had his hands folded behind his head. "Let me see it in action."

I laughed at his challenge. I stood, brushing the leaves from my tunic, and reached for my bow, positioning myself, the bow bending easily to my touch. I turned, gesturing for him to hand me one of my golden arrows, which surprised me; I never allowed anyone to touch them, let alone a mortal. I drew the string back, slowly, so he could watch. He always watched too closely, like he was memorising me. I nocked the arrow, the fletching brushing my cheek. The bow creaked as I drew it back, the tension alive in my arms. The world narrowed to the line between my eye and the distant olive tree, I realised the arrow, and it cut through the air, planting itself in the heart of the tree. I turned to him with a smirk on my lips. He turned, looking at the bow with curiosity, before looking up at me.

"Can you teach me?" he asked.

"Only if you're prepared to have your stance corrected", I said, handing him my bow and a single arrow.

He took the bow out of my hands with such delicacy and gentleness I would have sworn it was made of glass. I stepped behind him, his skin radiating the warm weather.

"Feet apart," I murmured. I nudged his ankle with mine. "Wider."

He obeyed, laughing

"Elbows back", I said, "but not tense"

"Like this?" he breathed

"Almost." My hands moved to his hips, guiding him. "You need to be grounded. The earth should feel you."

He did as I told, his body bending to my whim, his breath hitching at my touch. Adjusting his grip, my fingers tracing his own, his muscles tensed under my touch, not from strain — at least I hope not, but maybe from something else. Something unspoken, shimmering between us in the golden light.

"Now, when you feel it to be right, realise"

The arrow slipped. It arced wide, landing somewhere in the grass. He swore under his breath, then looked at me.

"Terrible," I said, smiling.

He snorted, "It looks like I need a better teacher"

I rolled my eyes at the declaration

"Good luck with that", I laughed

He turned to look at me and i met his eyes the eyes that contained my my world-no my univrse i stepped closer to him placing my hand on his bare shoulderthe sensation sending wave of shock threw me, and before i could gather my senses i pulled him closer me and met his lips with mine with a bruising impact an egerness in which he returned, just as breathless. His hands found their way to my waist, then to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go. In that moment, our worlds became one, there was nothing but him and me, just us, we became one. When we parted, our foreheads resting against one another

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” he whispered, a smile in his voice, though his eyes glistened softly.

I laughed, my thumb brushing his cheek. “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“And was that it?” he asked

I paused, smiling. “It was the first.”

[browniewithagun]

[browniewithagun]

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