#but at the end of the day all y'all are human and messy and imperfect and I cannot be the purity police

[artificialqueens]

Amoretto - Chapter 1 - (Branjie) - dreamyunicorngirl

A/N: So here I am, long time reader and first time writer! A big thank you to Meggie and Charlotte for betaing this chapter and for all the love and encouragement! You are the best! Also thanks Imposter Zoe for answering all of my questions regarding roman mythology. I hope y'all enjoy this one!

When the night sky darkens and the cold wind kisses Brooke Lynn’s bare skin, she wonders if this is the moment people would consider as hitting “rock bottom.” Dried up tear tracks on perfectly smooth skin tell tales of a heart-wrenching burden.

A scratched-up immortal leaning against a weeping willow, hiding behind its branches. Tired eyes eyeing her self-caused imperfections, silent reminders of losing control. With a hollow thud a clouded head hits the wooden stem, slightly dulling the pain in her heart, or at least the part in her chest where her heart is supposed to be.

Brooke catches her breath as realization settles within her being. She had just disobeyed Venus, refused to play her dirty little game. For once in her life she had won a century-long fight against the gods. A sense of calmness spreads through her limbs at the thought, disregarding any of the consequences she will have to face. Just knowing that she saved one of her victims slows down her frantic spinning mind. At least for now.

Gusts of frigid air play with dirty blonde hair, tossing it around, tugging at her lifeless wings, already pulling her  towards a newly lit path as her head hangs low, feet stomping into the ground. Nature is calling her name, refusing to let her celebrate her short-lived, and in Venus’s eyes, shameful victory in silence as fireflies circle a lost figure, leading the way to her next victim.

The ice-cold beauty closes her stormy eyes, taking in a deep breath as she ignores their presence, praying away their existence. She craves rest and is in desperate need to sort out the inner turmoil in her chest, emotionally exhausted from her last job - or more so the lack of fulfilment of her last job. Violent thoughts running through her delicate head with poisonous promises, keeping the woman bound to the floor. What even is the point of her being? All she does is create to destroy. Bringing an ounce of happiness for a lifetime of darkness. Always being the odd one. Desperately needing a one way out. Just wanting to put a halt to all of this.

But Nature doesn’t give up. Terra doesn’t let her go. Creatures of the night are tugging on shabby wings, pulling the blonde towards the promised path. With shaking limbs and robotic movement her feet are set in motion, her mind slowly but surely losing control over her lean body, the gods taking charge. No willpower to fight them anymore. Tiptoes barely touching the dirt-covered ground as the struggling figure disappears in between her wooden friends. Their birch trunks match her pale complexion, causing her to nearly disappear in the night sky. Nervous fingers play with a wooden bow in rough hands, as thoughts spin in her sleep deprived mind as if they were riding a merry-go-round, still wondering what punishment she will have to endure. Knowing her upcoming job couldn’t be easy, especially after the commotion she had caused just hours ago. As more fireflies appear on the path, creating a heavenly lighted trail leading her to a destination unknown, she condemns all forces from high above. Curses filling the air around her as the blonde desperately tries to make sense of her calling - fully knowing she will never receive an answer.

Hills grace the angelic creature’s vision as her journey finally comes to a halt. Two silent shadows play the leads in the following act. One just a bit taller than the other, watching the stars as the world falls asleep. Two innocent souls doomed from the beginning. One younger than the other, not prepared for the challenges and horrific burden they will have to face. Uproars and disapproval, exclusion and loneliness. Two young men sitting side by side, a reddish head resting on a sepia skinned shoulder, daisy crowns adorning both of their heads. Their future carved into two bloody arrows.

Tears well up in Brooke’s, self-proclaimed, devilish eyes as she stretches her wooden bow, pointing a red painted arrow at an innocent man; starstruck, watching an angel from the shadows. In the spur of the moment rough fingers leave the bowstring as her eyes pinch together, shutting out the world around her, just for a second.

Fingers intertwining, as the redhead professes his love for the other.

One, two, three. One last breath and the blonde has to open her tear-filled eyes again. Shuddering fingers grab the second arrow from a leather quiver strapped to her strained back. With a crinkled nose and gritted teeth, she arranges the arrow pointing towards the other man. Her victim disappearing behind a wall of black tears, clouding her vision. Yet her aim never falters, already knowing in which direction to shoot. It always ends like this. One being held in his lover’s arms, not knowing the pain a devilish angel can bring. As the second arrow flies through the sky, hitting its now love-sick target in its heaving chest, a single tear falls down the blonde’s delicate face, wetting her outstretched arm.

One, two, three blinks, and her tainted vision is clear again. The beginning of the newest chapter presenting itself to her is enough to chase her way. In a sleek tour en l’air she faces the other direction and starts running into the darkness, fleeing from the destruction the ice-cold beauty just caused.

Dirty feet stumble over misshapen roots as a shaking figure hits the ground, harrowing sobs only muffled by the grass beneath her. Another soon-to-be-heartbreak on her account. Another self-destruction caused by her curse. Another day she can’t live with herself.

Thoughts swirling in her restless brain as Cupid’s consciousness fades away.

Judging sun rays already disturb the rising inhabitants of the ever-growing forest, before the blonde’s messed up mind even gets the chance to comprehend nature’s lesson for her disobedience. The creation of star-crossed lovers as an exchange for the woman’s heart she had spared just hours before. A selfless act she had yet to regret. Telling herself that these men were doomed anyway, considering that Venus doesn’t have an ounce of compassion in her heavenly figure. Scratch marks and bruises paint reminders of being a guest in her own body. An excruciating pain spreads in Brooke Lynn’s chest, denying oxygen to enter her lungs for a quick second as the events of the previous night slowly settle in, reminding Cupid that she is nothing more than a prisoner in her own heartless cage. Obligated to follow Venus’s rules, even if that means fighting for something everyone but her seems to believe in, while going against her own core principles.

Endlessly pondering how everyone dares to believe in the illusion she creates every day, waiting their whole life for the day to come when an arrow strikes their chest, turning their whole world upside down, giving into a lie told for thousands of years. Sometimes Brooke wonders if she is the problem, just being a heartless monster, not having the passion to give into fairy tales. But then she remembers all the dark, sickly sweet, crystallized build up around people’s rotten hearts, eating them from the inside out, burying them alive. Symptoms of her curse. She had seen it plenty of times, seen all the hurt and self-destruction caused by the disease humans so lovingly call ‘love.’ Her body shuddering at the thought of a tiny Latina, a girl Brooke is obligated to visit nearly every month, falling so fast for each new stranger. Each time the ice-cold beauty strikes the young woman with an arrow, she has to witness the brunette losing herself a bit more. A broken heart running out of cellotape in her heaving chest, crumbling to pieces with each new wound, causing irreparable destruction.

As the blonde’s mind runs in circles again, wallowing in self-hatred and pity for her victims, contemplating her existence, Venus chooses her next victim.

Butterflies, bees and dragonflies lead the way. Brooke Lynn’s wings flutter on their own accord, her feet hovering over the ground, following a lit-up path as she is carried by obedient dryads. No matter how badly she refuses to comply, how hard she tugs on her wings, desperately trying to rip them off, attempting to escape, her body opposes her mind, following Venus’s golden rules. Safely guarded by Terra’s dogsbodies.

A red tinted path leads the blonde to an all too familiar tiny apartment in the middle of the suburbs of LA. Messy assembled furniture and cheap perfume fill a feisty Latina’s living space. So far, Cupid had only been asked to visit this area during night time - hidden behind shadows - finding her victim in a barely lit ally, making out with boys in dark leather jackets and tattoos or hooking up with willing punk girls in her chaotic bedroom. Never once did the girl see the devilish angel behind her back, barely having a reaction to poisonous arrows piercing through her heaving chest.

Tonight is different though. The small brunette is seated on her unmade bed, cradling an electronic device like a mother to her newborn, brightly smiling at the screen in her hand. Brooke Lynn flicks her stormy eyes across the room - no other human to be seen. Truth be told, it wouldn’t make a difference. The young woman being one of the poor unfortunate souls whose partners never were on Brooke’s list, never receiving an arrow in their chest allowing them the brunette’s so freely given love. The Puerto Rican goddess is the one to always fall head first, yet never stands on the receiving end. A sick life of one-sided love. Heartbreak becoming a steady constant in her life, love stained tears tainting her heated cheeks, while Brooke curses herself for being the source of all her pain. Her non-existent heart breaking with each shed tear, drowning in guilt with each outcry.

Month after month she returns, bow and head held high, watching from afar with a regal poise as she hits her target’s bloody organ perfectly every single time.

But tonight, she craves to get closer to her victim, wants to take in all of her being. Needs to see her face upfront. Just hours after sparring the young woman’s heart, she craves to see who broke the ice beauty’s facade, made her blood boil within a second, going against Venus’s rules by impulse. A force so strong that broke the god’s spell on Cupid for once.

The young woman’s dark brown hair falls in sleek waves over her camo hoodie as she intensely eyes her brightly lit phone up close. Brooke doesn’t really know what she is waiting for as she keeps admiring the stranger. Nature’s creatures have clearly shown her the next victim - one shot and she should be done. Finally able to leave this cursed place. Yet she hesitates as she stretches the blood red arrow across her bowstring, inching closer to the brunette, facing the young woman as she prepares to shoot her lethal arrow as opposed to hiding in the shadows like she usually does.

Brooke always keeps her distance - lurking in the shadows -, but somehow tonight she needs to face the destruction upfront, to see the cruel nature of her being first hand. Not just through muffled cries and loud curses. She somehow craves to take in all the human emotion playing out on the Puerto Rican’s expressive face. Waiting to watch each delicate tear fall.

The blonde hates her very existence for inflicting pain on her victims. Yet deep down she craves the affirmation of her cruel nature - needs to see her devilish figure reflecting in her victim’s eyes. Fully knowing there is nothing she can do to protect them from herself - her body belonging to the gods from high above.

Tip toes hovering over the ground as tired wings manoeuvre Brooke’s aching soul closer to her victim, leaving the safety of the kitchen’s shadows. Grey eyes fixate on the young woman still sitting on her messy bed, taking in all of her being. Finally, being close enough to identify the tattoo on her chest - a sphynx surrounded by rose petals - she longingly takes in all of her perfectly human imperfections - a scar right above her right eyebrow, chapped lips and a visibly crushed expression adorning her face.

The moment she rolls back her tense shoulders and perfectly angles up her wooden bow to directly hit the brunette’s heart, brown doe eyes meet clear stormy ones. Within a heartbeat dark plum painted lips fall agape in a muffled scream. Pupils blown wide as a breath gets caught in her victim’s chest, her phone now laying on the ground.

“Who are you?” A wobbly yet harsh voice escapes dry, plum painted lips as shaking fingers blindly, yet discreetly search for any object that could be used as a possible weapon on her nightstand.

Cupid takes a step back, or rather hovers, as she catches her breath. Eyes equally torn open, chest tightening at the shocking encounter. A shiver wraps up her holy figure, icicles piercing through the fair skin of her delicate hands, numbing her palms.

“You can see me?” Her statement comes more off like a question, to which she already knows the answer. Centuries of loneliness paint her disbelief. A hitched breath catches in her frozen lungs.

Darkening brown eyes dart across the messy room as the younger woman’s heartbeat quickens with each passing second, waiting for more intruders to join the scene. Shaking fingers now fumble around her bed, trying to find anything to defend herself with, even if it is just a goddamn Bible. Her breathing becomes erratic as she fixes her gaze on the woman in front of her, bow and head held high, a lifeless pair of eyes staring right back at her. Icy blonde curls framing her perfect yet cold face, radiating a heavenly aura.

The blonde carefully keeps an eye on the human in front of her with furrowed brows, her trembling figure not being left unnoticed by the blonde. The Latina’s intense gaze fixed on the arrow, accompanied with a clenched jaw, might the answer to all of Cupid’s unvoiced questions. Carefully she lowers her fatal weapon, in favour of the brunette’s comfort, not wanting to disturb her any further. Still not fully grasping the reality of the situation just yet.

“Am I not supposed to, Mary? Please don’t tell me I am hallucinating. If that motherfucker actually put ‘shrooms in my brownie I have to -” the brunette screeches while holding up her hand, checking to see if tentacles were growing out of her limbs. Wide eyes flick across her bedroom, tense shoulders relaxing with each passing second as she realizes her vision didn’t show any other abnormalities.

“Wait, no one has actually ever seen me before.” Brooke interrupts the feisty girl, wide eyed and lips fallen agape at the revelation. Fists tightening by her side as her stomach ties herself in knots. The blonde isn’t as invisible as she always claimed to be, not untouchable as the gods had made her out to be.

“You really think you are that special, mami?” The Puerto Rican cocks a perfectly painted eyebrow and clicks her tongue. Her heart still beating fast, wondering when she will wake up from this strange dream.

“Yes - I mean, no - I mean, I shoot arrows at people to make them fall in love, so I guess.” Brooke stumbles over her words, surprised and yet intrigued by the other woman’s sharp tongue, slowly inching closer to her again.

“Okay I am definitely high,” the short woman whispers, or at least as far as a woman with a mowing machine voice can whisper, as she jumps down from her bed and starts pacing around the room, nibbling on the skin around her nails.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you are a human who can clearly see me and, - but wait, what if you are not actually a human?” The blonde is still frozen in place, staring down the brunette beauty in front of her, taking in all of her beings, searching for levels of pure perfection. Her slouched shoulders, and messy hair not necessarily screaming immortal.

“Jesus Christ it’s 11 a.m., it’s way too early for this fuckery.” Vanessa sleepily rubs her eyes, prepared to wake up any second, realizing she probably must have overslept. “And to answer your question, I am pretty sure I am human - aren’t you?”

“I am Cupid, the goddess of desire, erotic love attraction and affection - or as I’d like to describe myself ‘the creator of all evil.’” Cupid holds out a hand for the doe-eyed woman to shake.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Mary,” the girl exclaims while throwing her hands in the air and ignoring the pale, outstretched arm of her counterpart.

“No, it’s true. I am Cupid,” Brooke argues, gesturing to her bow and arrow as if her lethal weapon would be the obvious answer - blatantly ignoring the elephant in the room, her large, white ethereal wings.

“Prove it.” The brunette clicks her tongue, even bolder than in her wildest dreams as she points to the now abandoned bow and arrow by Cupid’s side. Still convinced that her other nonhuman features may be just a trick on her mind.

“Wait what - no. I don’t wanna hurt you,” Brooke whispers with a cracking voice, a lump getting caught in the blonde’s throat, choking on nothing as neatly shaped brows furrow together on another wise angelic face. Her chest constricts her lungs as she tries to stay level headed at the woman’s outrageous request, counting to ten to calm her erratic breathing. Tears sting at the corner of her eyes. How could someone even dare to ask to be inflicted with this kind of pain? Hadn’t the girl endured enough? Did Brooke’s sacrifice mean nothing to her?

“Hit me with an arrow, then I might believe you.” Raised brows and a one-sided smirk challenging Brooke. A chuckle bubbles up her throat as she watches Cupid’s face morph into disbelieve.

“But that will just make you upset and-” the godly creature argues again, a shiver running down her spine just at the thought of hurting the woman in front of her for another time. Barely having broken Venus’s golden rules a day ago, just to protect this girl from another heartbreak. Revolted against her mother, broke an arrow in half and ran away. Sparks flew through her bones, weakening her limbs and cutting off her circulation. A spur of the moment decision, just to save a woman who had been through too much pain in her young years.

“Hurry, I don’t have all day, Mary.” Her annoyed voice does not completely match her excited exterior as she slightly bounces on her feet, olive tanned fingertips twirling dark brown curls around them as a cashmere cat grin settles on her lips.

Brooke knows she must do it, needs to prove to herself that she isn’t just the devil in her own imagination. A broken immortal easily persuaded. She needs to be reminded of her cruel nature, needs to be blamed for all the hurt in the world at last. How dare she deny a human to love? Even if it will be their downfall. She can’t protect the human race from her curse, so she may as well play the role of the devil himself.

With steady hands she stretches her blood red arrow across her wooden bow, pointing her weapon towards the small woman stood right in front of her eyes. Blood rushes to her ears as her stomach ties itself in knots, wings reaching high above her lean figure, radiating a godly aura as she can feel an unearthly force urging her body to take the fatal shot. Shaky finger tips let the arrow fly the short distance through the air as Vanessa’s eyes fixate on her mobile phone, just having seen a new message.

“Ouch,” the brunette exclaims, eyes pinched shut as her hand reaches for the arrow stuck in her chest. Her other hand balls into a tight fist as the arrow disappears within her olive tanned hand. Doe eyes gleam with excitement and from her plum painted lips escapes a tiny squeal.

Within a second of the blood red arrow disappearing, thorny roses rank up her chest, filling her lungs with red flower petals. Her vision is tinted with baby pink as her heart starts to shake to the melody of love.

“I told you so,” Brooke replies matter of factly as the brunette lovingly stares at her screen, butterflies probably starting to spread in her stomach that very moment. She knows she shouldn’t have given into the girl’s request, but knowing Venus, she would have had to fulfill it either way.

“Holy shit, you are-” Chocolate eyes stare at grey ones, gleaming full of joy at her newly induced love and Cupid’s revelation, before she shakes her head and clears her mind. “Wait why did you call yourself 'the creator of all evil,’ bitch?” Her face is painted with curiosity as she bites her lower lip, studying Brooke’s unreadable expression.

Brooke Lynn gulps, avoiding her counterpart that watches her every move with a cocked head, as the cold beauty silently curses her nervous rambling just moments ago. Her wings slightly flutter as she takes in her surroundings, occupying her mind with everything else besides the stranger who just took a seat on the floor right in front of her, and rather studies the pictures on the brunette’s bedroom wall. A prom picture, one of a girl’s night out in a bar, a baby picture. A wall painted full of memories, each of them unknown to any stranger, yet strangely familiar to the human by her side.

“Well…” Brooke starts, not ready yet to spill her mind to a complete stranger. Not even used to the idea of speaking to another being.

“Spit it out, Mary!” the girl demands as she crawls a bit closer, grabbing Brooke’s hand and forcing her to sit down beside her so she can study the angelic woman up close, feeling the urge to run a hand through her glowing hair. With a sharp shake of her confused head, she carefully steadies her hand on her hip instead, barely stopping herself from reaching for the blonde.

“Wait, I never even caught your name,” Brooke hurriedly gets up and steps away from her counterpart, too nervous to sit still, and moves closer to the window instead, watching the scenery outside the apartment.

The young girl lifts her perfectly plugged brow at the girl’s reaction, having anticipated a different response. Duly noted the lack of response and dramatically blinks as she lets Cupid’s sidestep slide.

“It’s Vanessa.”

Vanessa, Brooke Lynn whispers the word, lets the name roll of her tongue.

“Brooke. I mean my name is Brooke Lynn, nice to meet you Vanessa.” The woman spins around again, flashing Vanessa an experimental smile.

“So, who even is that guy you were texting earlier?” Brooke trails off, pacing through the room and takes a subtle look at every item littering the room. Stopping to pick up a heart shaped silver necklace on her vanity and carefully eyeing it up close as she lightly strokes a fingertip across the engraved ‘V’, before putting it down. A broken shell of a creature silently condemning the display of affection, knowing the necklace lost its meaning shortly after being gifted to her. Becoming a representation for another lost love.

Apparently the blonde had hit the right nerve with her question and soon after Vanessa begins to ramble about her new love. Grand gestures highlight a sickly sweet tale. Brooke barely contains an eyeroll, yet still lets an annoyed sigh slip every once in a while. Vanessa being in love is all fun and games until it’s not. It’s only a matter of time until she will be reduced to a cocktail of emotions, getting the best of her, combusting one day and resulting in a broken shell.

Brooke never understood love and probably never will. Every aspect of it seems so strange, even completely wrong at times. The co-dependency, heartbreak, obsession and disapproval one has to face. Love seemed to be an empty promise, one that will take the best of you and leave you with the worst you’ve got. So many pieces of shattered hearts Brooke has seen distributed on every inch of the earth. Broken pieces littering mankind. Fleeting moments of happiness not worth the million heartbreaks one individual has to endure - at least in her opinion. But how could she know the truth? Brooke doesn’t even own a heart in the first place. Nothing that could be torn apart or thrown away.

“Wait, hold up, Mami! I don’t wanna talk about shits and berries, spill the tea! I wanna know everything about that cupid shit you’ve got going on!”

In the beginning there was only darkness.

An angelic being born out of the darkness into the light. Her parents two gods. Ice blond baby curls, golden sun rays illuminate her aura, and virgin white regal wings highlight her godly heritage. The daughter of Mars and the third Venus. The youngest of heavenly newborns. A creature embodying the heaviest burden of all.

Her stormy eyes opened and she was alone.

Brooke Lynn is the youngest of the three, yet as much Cupid as her other siblings. Each a different embodiment of love. Each receiving a mission at birth. Yet all of their missions combined designed to keep the scale of humankind steady.

Born at the beginning of time. Abandoned by her parents, only left with a sense of belonging to immortal creatures. Little to no knowledge left with her at birth.

Immortal creatures created to obey their mothers’ rules, to follow nature’s request at keeping humanity alive.

A little child all alone. Burdened with the most horrifying job.

Brooke shakes her clouded head, trying to leave behind the haunting memories of the beginning of her existence. Loneliness and confusion are still deeply rooted in her body, not able to shake off the reminders of her lonely reality. Broken at the lack of knowledge about her own essence. Not knowing her own heritage. How could she share her cruel nature and unknown existence with a complete stranger?

Her head snaps around, taking one last soul searching look at Vanessa and just simply knows deep down that she has to leave. Regal wings carry her towards the dimly lit corridor outside of Vanessa’s apartment, feet nearly out the door, before the brunette catches on.

“Wait! Where the fuck do you think you are going, Mary?” a shocked brunette scrambles to her feet, shouting after Cupid.

Brooke stops in her tracks, not having anticipated such a commotion. Pale fingers run through ice blond waves. “I’ve got to leave Vanessa.”

“Yeah sure, Mami. Stop bullshiting me.” Vanessa voice goes high, while her brows furrow and her lips pull together in an annoyed pout.

“No really, I’ve got a job to fulfill.” Brooke tries to justify her sudden departure, not afraid of lying to her counterpart to avoid uncomfortable situations like the plague.

“Like what?” Her arms cross as the brunette slightly cocks her head, not buying her excuse.

“Make people’s life miserable, I guess,” the icy woman replies without missing a beat and disappears out the door.

Vanessa still stares at the empty doorway minutes after Brooke had already left, before a shiver runs down her spine and pulls her back into reality.

“It’s all just a dream,” the tiny woman mumbles to herself before returning to the safety beneath her bedsheets and drifting into a dreamless slumber