#sun stories

[godzilla-reads]

—Sun Stories: Tales from Around the World to Illuminate the Days and Nights of Our Lives by Carolyn McVickar Edwards

[thefuckingsun]

Prologue

 In evening’s last light the ferry slipped into the harbor. Shouting boatsmen and the groaning of what had been in motion reluctantly coming to a stop had roused the traveler from the threshold of reverie. There wasn’t much she had brought and while she was but a moment in collecting her bag and her cloak, she was dreadfully slow once on her swollen, booted feet. Like a dream, she glided and weaved through laborers and passengers alike. A soft, white ghost, rolling as carefully as morning mist with her hood drawn low over her features and her form shrouded in yards of ivory wool.

 Again on the cobbled lanes of Candlelight Cove. Again pressed on all sides by dread and heavy fog and the feeling that she wasn’t far at all from her painfully messy demise. Was she worried for those that might come to her? Did she care that heeding her call could very well be a death sentence for all? No. Her hooded head bobbed as she dared not to laugh, a strangled sort of snort escaping from the shadows. Any who dared to answer were doomed, whether they came or not, but at least she could give them a chance to fight, and maybe, if enough cared to dip their toes into the mystery, a chance to win.

 The Weary Ember welcomed her coins with little fanfare. A private room was procured. Ale offered at the bar. She couldn’t accept, not when she was still tinted green from far too many hours of inky black waves churning all around. She took a small, simple meal, watching the doorway to the tavern intently between bites, wondering if any of those among the merchants were travelers who had come on her behest. Who would sit with her in just a few days’ time? What tales would they have to tell?  Would they believe anything that she had to say?

 The prospect of a bed called to her, but it was best that she paid it no heed. She couldn’t count, even on her fingers, how long it had been since she had truly slept because she wasn’t sure which quick few minutes of sitting with shut eyes, or the fleeting moments of half-conscious cat naps she could honestly call sleep. Her bones ached with exhaustion. Her limbs were sore and seemed to always hold a chill. But it was better than the dreams. She wanted to stay here - in the world of the awake - with her children and her mate - for as long as possible before she dove into looming realities which she might never escape. 

 Once in her room she slid the latch into place and pulled the slatted shutters tight across the window, keeping Westmoore out as best she could. As bathwater poured and she peeled herself free of her traveling clothes her wide, uncharacteristically frowning, lips pressed together tight. There was so much to do. There were unknowable things awaiting them.

There was so much at stake.

@the-children @saimbere @theredrighthanddedchild @voidtorrent @mercutiomalache

[thefuckingsun]

In the end, he couldn’t understand anything but physical comfort. In the end, it was only her touch and her arms wrapped around him that kept him calm, that quelled his angry, confused lashing out, or his unbearable howling. In the end, not even her love could save him.

He had been so great. So strong. So powerful. But nothing could stop the deterioration. There was no magic nor medicine originating on Azeroth that would reverse, or even slow, the unraveling of his mind. And it was unraveling itself quickly.

Through bruises and bites, she begged him not to go. She pleaded for him to never leave her again. He would whimper in his sleep, and she would gently caress his sweat-slick head and watch his limbs twitch as he dreamed. Her tears stained his face when she kissed him and whispered his names, the names of her dearest friends.

In the end, he was gone. Not even a body left behind the mourn over. In the end, she held herself and his memory and wished that she might die so the pain would ease. And in the end, as her world went black and she slipped into dreams he was there, a cosmic memory, telling her that she would be okay.

[thefuckingsun]

H̛͙͙̙̩ͅe̶̦ ͝c̲̬̬̖͉̼ͅa͓̺̪͔̫n̼'̶t͈̲͟ ͍̜̻ș̘̙͔̪̼͢a͚̻̱͟ͅv̖e̘ͅ y̦̯̻̥o̲͍͇͈ͅu̢̗̝̱͎̯ ̡̭̮͍t͙͓h͏̹į̜s ̤͎̞̟͉t͇̺͔i̵m̩̹e̴.̠͇̥͉̠ ̸̹͚̭̜͕̪I̟͖̬͕̫͓t̼'̛͉͕̳͈̣͖s͓͡ ̦̱͎̠͟n͍o̻t̯̻ ̷̱e̵̦̤͉̗ṇ̝̹̯o̹͖̞ụ̵̖̝̗̖̻̪g̩h͖͓̠̰͍̟̪.̶͓͖͇̺

It was the rushing rain that had roused her from the strange caverns she had been finding herself within while dreaming. For weeks it had been the same scene - a round room with a similarly shaped altar, the sound of distant rumbling, and no escape except for waking. Athen was grateful for the thunder and the lightning flashing through her windows. Nature was granting her an early reprieve from the doldrums of her conjured prison. Here, in her reality, though many often questioned the validity of it, she was relatively safe (safe is a lie), and far from alone.

He was two men. But not men. Not what mortals or the longer lived races called men, though that was how he appeared. Athen had come to think of him as a beast. He really didn’t have much in common with men at all, and while she was the sort who would rather hunt creatures down and slaughter them for sport, she was fond of her man-beast. Especially since they had begun hunting creatures down together. She loved the personalities that came together to create him, both equally, but differently. One had been a friend, a being with abilities she admired, and the arrogance she liked to imagine an older brother would display. The other had been her everything. And she missed him. She missed them both.

H̛͙͙̙̩ͅe̶̦ ͝c̲̬̬̖͉̼ͅa͓̺̪͔̫n̼'̶t͈̲͟ ͍̜̻ș̘̙͔̪̼͢a͚̻̱͟ͅv̖e̘ͅ y̦̯̻̥o̲͍͇͈ͅu̢̗̝̱͎̯ ̡̭̮͍t͙͓h͏̹į̜s ̤͎̞̟͉t͇̺͔i̵m̩̹e̴.̠͇̥͉̠ ̸̹͚̭̜͕̪I̟͖̬͕̫͓t̼'̛͉͕̳͈̣͖s͓͡ ̦̱͎̠͟n͍o̻t̯̻ ̷̱e̵̦̤͉̗ṇ̝̹̯o̹͖̞ụ̵̖̝̗̖̻̪g̩h͖͓̠̰͍̟̪.̶͓͖͇̺

Athen had been watching his tight muscles twitching in his sleep. He always looked like he was ready to lash out, like a wild tiger stalking restlessly in a cage, just waiting, waiting, for the moment he could spring free and leave his captors as carnage. But her thoughts were interrupted by the voice. Oh, it was never a good sign when strange whispers found her in the middle of the night. Crackling, impure arcane trailed behind her gaze as she quickly scanned the room. She wasn’t expecting to see anything out of place, but couldn’t help looking anyway. When her sight once more fell upon her beastly lover she fought to suppress a groan. If she wanted to indulge the whispers she would have to find someplace else to do so. It would be tragic to leave such a scrumptious sight, but she didn’t want to wake him.

Bare feet tread lightly through the threshold and into the garden. The weeping sky had plunged the world into a gloom more chilling than she had expected. “Fine,” she muttered, not to herself, but quietly. She knew the speaker who had interrupted her thoughts would hear. “You’ve got my attention… Now, what is this? A warnin’, or are you threatenin’ me? ‘cause listen, I ain’t in no mood to play games - not with cowards who hide behind disembodied voices in th’ night.”

[thefuckingsun]

Igneus est lux I

“Where th’ fuck... Am I?”

It had been her first thought after she had awoken atop something much more solid than her own bed. She had scrubbed at her eyes with her palms which temporarily smothered out the bright burst and crackling swirls of arcane drifting from her gaze, and despite the walls being so far ahead of her, the illumination reflecting off of the surface blinked each time her hands interrupted the light. From somewhere distant she could hear a low droning. At least, she probably heard it. More likely she felt it. The deep bass. Gentile vibrations in the air and along the dais upon which she sat. They danced right up her bones and into her nerves, then through muscles and organs that shifted and contracted as she fidgetted.

The very moment her boots touched the ground, it all stopped. 

“Thank god fer that,” she muttered to herself. All of that reverberation in her teeth had been starting to give her a headache.

Three times she circled the dark stone platform. One hand rested flat upon a gray wall, trailing along beside her while she searched for an exit. It was warm. And not exactly a substance she could readily identify either. If it was stone it had been sanded to give it’s almost perfectly smooth face a slight tooth. If it had been wood, well, where were the nails, the slight grooves, or gaps? No, it was as though it had been one solid mass that curved gently into a gigantic cylinder. A cylinder within which Athen was now stuck.

[thefuckingsun]

“I had a dream. Actually, I’ve been havin’ lots of those lately. So many, so real... So... Uh. Sometimes I’m worried I ain’t ever gonna wake up from ‘em. Sometimes they stay with me for hours after I’m up out’a bed. Whatever. That ain’t the part that matters. What matters is that I know they ain’t just dreams. I know that really, really, there is somethin’ bad, or somethin’ wrong, lurkin’ behind these cryptic notions and weird sightings. I wasn’ asleep when that - or those - kid-things came to warn me of shit that’s coming. But I’m awake now.

I’m wide fuckin’ awake.

And I know I ain’t the only one.”

@the-children

[godzilla-reads]

Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns it calls me on and on across the universe.

John Lennon

[thefuckingsun]

"You have nothin' to worry about, Athen... I love th'fuck out of you... There's no fuckin' way we're gonna mess this up.." His head tilted to the side, planting slow kisses along the side of her neck that steadily grew more feverish and needy with each one that met her skin. "We're gonna have a beautiful lil'monster... God, I can't wait ." 

The door was partly open still. It had caught on a sack of potting soil lazily resting beside the seal. Warmth and the verdant scents of mixed greeneries spilled from within, along with something a little peculiar. Athen was humming. But it wasn't the over-enthusiastic, off-key tones she usually went for. There were no dramatically clashing notes or aggressive beats. It was gentle. Quiet. Perhaps a lullaby or something even sadder. It came to starts and stops as her vibrato wavered when her pitch became too emotional and sniffles too interrupting. Then she would start again, lower than before, heavy, choked, the sort of melody a mother would sing to soothe their crying child.

"Take me from you? Y'think I'll let that happen?" He mumbled in a slight tease as his arms reeled her in closer--his fingers squeezing over her hand just as tightly. "No matter where I end up--you see that door?" He used her finger to point towards their bedroom door. "Where ever I am, I can always open that door. And nothin' can change that."

For a moment the image of her pastel sweater stilled. She must have been crouching because her distorted shape was smaller and there was the soft thudding of a palm hitting the ground. She sniffed. She trembled. She was begging, in her head, for someone to be returned to her. She was pleading silently, swearing that she would never be selfish again if she could only hear his voice telling her he loved her one more time. Then her form lifted, something slid across something wooden. Maybe a table or a shelf. And after a few moments of quiet gasping and sighs the half-breed made her way back to the balcony garden. Her face was pale, her nose red where she had been rubbing it, and her hair seemed even messier than before - a veil of tangled sunbeams partially hiding her from the late autumn chill.

"Like I said--don't matter where. I can always get back. That's just how it works."

Tiny, stained fingertips pinched at the bridge of her nose as she took a few, uneasy steps away from this bizarre stranger. She was sucking in deep draughts of air in an attempt to keep the tears a bay, or to keep herself from lashing out once more. "Go away... Just - just go." Athen waved him off, though she wouldn't actually be able to see if he had done as requested, because she was on her knees, hugging herself, rocking herself, choking down angry little sounds that made her chest ache.

" H e   c a n ' t   h e a r   y o u . "

With each word that followed, that cracked, oozing grin continued to break its way along the corners of his mask, growing larger.

"Y o u . ." Crack. " . a r e   s o . ." Crack. ".ͅ ͍̙̖ṣ̶͍ ͏t̘̫͜ ̗͚ͅu͙̰̕ p̟̮͜ ͎̹̯ì̟͎ d͙ ̰̩. ̮̯͞" Crack.