#celestial lesbians

The head priest presses a shaking hand to his forehead and reminds himself to use his inside voice when talking to the literal goddess currently trying to mold a body of solid light into something that'll look good in a cocktail dress.

"Dawn Mother please listen. She's clearly a spawn of Dark birthed from the Void Between Stars. Her children are beasts of the night, her very form shifts like a shadow, and we're pretty sure she controls the tides-"

"What's wrong with controlling the tides?"

"That's not the point!" the head priest takes a breath. Inside voice. Inside voice. "Just...Please, Please reconsider inviting a powerful horror terror into our inner sanctum."

The goddess tuts and pats the priest on the head with a giant hand that leaves another sun bleached white streak in his hair.

"Come on now, I would never invite her over on the first date. She's not going to meet you kids until we think it's serious. This is just, you know, a little fun." The Dawn Mother pushes the mass of light up into an impressive bust and considers her new shape for a moment before literally pouring herself into the dress. "You know Mama needs her fun every once in a while or things start to burn."

That wasn't a threat exactly. She'd never threaten them.

But.

The head priest sighs, defeated. "Understood. Good luck with your...date. And be careful. Please."

A beam of light kisses him on the top of the head and he gains another streak.

"You worry too much. Go to the alter if you need me. I'll have all prayers on silent but I'll pick up right away so don't hesitate to call out. Lock the doors, Dinner is in the fridge, and no fighting."

The light in the grand temple dims as the Dawn Mother fades from view like a sunset. "Listen to your big brother! I love you all!~" She says as she disappears, leaving nothing but disembodied sunbeams and warm stone.

The head priest sighs. Nobody ever listens to him in this fucking cult.

over on patreon Gay Spaceship asked for 'sun and moon cosmic horror lesbians' so i made two moms ready to Brady Bunch their respective followings together. Dawn doesn't really see a problem with her new girlfriend. Luna is wonderful! sweetest being she's ever known with a unique loving family. all this Horror Terror business is just the kids catastrophising again. poor things are scared of their own shadows.

also, important size difference:

"I'm a concept. In relation to other concepts, in opposition to the enemies whom I deny and yet without whose existence I would not exist, I am defined. On my own..." He trailed off, sinking into the plush cushions. Monsoc's home was ornate, full of soft things and finely-carved statues. It felt comfortable. It felt safe. It was everything he wanted, and that terrified him to his core.

"I'm pretty sure you exist. I'd be sad if you didn't. I can see you right here, you have a pulse, you're here. With me." Monsoc held him close. Another beautiful crime. He couldn't be held.

"I may be here, physically. But am I here philosophically? There's more than one kind of existence, Monsoc, and I may very well not be here. What use is a body with no one inside?" He sighed deeply. Knowing that comfort was a sin, that the soft cushions would turn to knives in time and Monsoc's crystal eyes to the dull glare of a pistol, knowing that his future had been laid out and shattered and that all was unforgiveable, he leant into Monsoc's gentle touch. "I'm so tired." He was always tired, but it was harder to block now that he'd stopped blocking other things.

"Of course you are. You're always fighting. The war exhausts your country, and it exhausts you."

"I am the war. I can't be without it."

"Not as you are. But," Monsoc ran his fingers thorugh Ingsoc's hair, continuing, "we as humans are built with limitless possibility for change. You're set up against change, but it will still happen. We're alive. You're not made of steel, no matter how you want to be; you're blood and flesh that can heal when cut and feel everything. Humanity cannot become mechanical and heartless before losing everything. You haven't lost everything. You can heal, and you can rest."

"I can't. Not now." He shifted, facing Monsoc to cup his face with his hands. "You are worth fighting for. There is a purpose, an immediate one, that cannot be altered or slowed. I can't ignore you. I've tried."

"Having a reason won't make anything easier. You need rest, love. You're a person. You do not have to be made of metal and hatred here. Lay down, I'll guard you."

"I can't." He was already closing his eyes. "I have too many responsibilities... Who am I?"

"You're my love." Monsoc softly kissed him. He was soft and kind and perfect, everything forbidden. "Let yourself rest for once. It's safe here."

Ingsoc leaned into him. It was never easy for him to feel safe; he wasn't allowed to. Still, tonight was soft and warmly lit, tonight was apple cider warming the heart, and gentle brushes with death, and lovingly whispered reassurances until dawn. The sun, in her cruel splendor, would doubtless come the next day to purify all good and burn away the only thing worth looking at, to burn all the softness from his flesh and melt his eyes from his sockets. For tonight, the moon coldly guarded the lovers, keeping her distance, her dim luminosity leaving them in the comforting glow of solitude.

Ingsoc held Monsoc tighter. He was almost asleep, and understood about half of what he'd just thought; he knew it was bad, but that conditioning was starting to slip. The constant fear that ailed his mind lessened tonight. He knew he was mortal, but death was as temporary as life. The present future and past existed at the same time, all together, all in harmony.