Coreḳšabṭi - Mythology
Jan. 18th, 2011 11:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficGood morning, darling authors and prompters! To refresh your memory, I am ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ryuutchi and I am serving as your host for this week.
Your theme for today is "Mythology". This can mean mythology as a fandom, prompts involving mythological motifs, or you can explore your favorite fandom's mythology!
Kindly keep in mine our rules:
ryuutchi and I am serving as your host for this week.Your theme for today is "Mythology". This can mean mythology as a fandom, prompts involving mythological motifs, or you can explore your favorite fandom's mythology!
Kindly keep in mine our rules:
- Three prompts per fandom, and no more than five total. If one of your prompts is filled, you may post another.
- No spoilers for new shows/seasons until at least one week after airing.
- If your fill contains spoilers, please warn for it and leave enough space for people to pass by.
Help out our happy little codemonkeys by formatting your prompts as such:
Supernatural, the leprechaun, the fae are an entirely different myth set and so they work around the angels with ease
Hindu Mythology, Krishna/Radha, exploring godhood
Tower Prep, Any, escaping like Orpheus and never looking back
New X-Men, David Alleyne/The Cuckoos, Eleusinian Mysteries
If today's prompts don't tickle you, give the lonely prompts a whirl instead!
[tag: mythology]
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:22 am (UTC)He and Cas were going to be so hungover but the payout would be so worth it.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:35 am (UTC)Bonus fusion with "American Gods"
Date: 2011-03-26 04:30 pm (UTC)A late pick-up and this time, Mister Ibis was driving while Mister Jacquel rode shotgun, tapping away slowly on the keys of a cellphone which Wednesday's boy had given him.
"Are you 'texting' again?" Ibis asked, glancing across at his partner, and making the inverted commas audible.
"Shadow sent a message: he's in New Zealand dealing with an earth spirit that's gotten out of hand," Jacquel said.
"That boy certainly gets around, just like his father, but couldn't he have taken the time to write so much as a postcard?" Ibis said, patiently.
"The mail is disrupted: about the only planes getting in or out of Christchurch are evacuation flights or relief planes," Jacquel replied, hitting the 'send' button. "I'm sending this to his Twitter page: it's about the only mode of communication that's working right now, since the phone lines are jammed if they aren't down."
Ibis sighed. "Texts and Twitters and bits of energy that once flew off a bit of amber if you rubbed it the wrong way with a bit of wool," he said. "It's so...much. It's enough to overload one's mind."
"I suppose people thought the same thing you taught them how to write," Jacquel replied, closing the flip of the phone and slipping it back into the breast pocket of his jacket.
"That was a different matter, that was intended to help preserve tales and other secrets that might be lost in the telling," Ibis said. "But is there a real need to preserve the blank mundane things like teenaged crushes on pop singers and who's stoned on what?"
"It's a part of life, which isn't always full of noble deeds and high adventures," Jacquel replied. "It's also full of burps and farts and aches and pains."
"And yet it borders on abuse of the gift of writing," Ibis said.
"That's the risk of a gift: once it's out of the hands of the giver, the receiver may either keep it and use it well, or they might repurpose it, or damage it or destroy it, or worse yet, they might just regift it," Anubis said.
"I suppose then they've merely repurposed the gift," Thoth replied, thoughtfully. He fell silent, pondering this paradox, yet not about to belabor the point with one who knew life better than those who lived it...
Re: Bonus fusion with "American Gods"
From:So going to hell for this one...
Date: 2011-01-19 07:41 am (UTC)Re: So going to hell for this one...
Date: 2011-01-19 04:58 pm (UTC)Filled.
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:41 am (UTC)no fic but...
Date: 2011-01-19 01:30 pm (UTC)And now I am imagining Dionysus played by Matt Bomer for no good reason at all.
Re: no fic but...
From:Fic, but possibly not what you wanted -_-;
From:Re: Fic, but possibly not what you wanted -_-;
From:Re: Fic, but possibly not what you wanted -_-;
From:Re: Fic, but possibly not what you wanted -_-;
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:41 am (UTC)why yes, I am a giant geek when it comes to angels
No fic...
Date: 2011-01-20 06:27 am (UTC)*Also an Angel Geek*
Re: No fic...
From:GO GO FICTIONAL MYTHOLOGIES!
Date: 2011-01-19 07:49 am (UTC)filled
Date: 2011-01-20 01:03 am (UTC)A human female watches over her offspring moments before she bursts into flame.
Moments or eons later her progeny fight the things that still whisper in fear the names of Cthulu's kin. The names humans have forgotten.
The scenes shift and an angel joins them but the mark of darkness still stains both males.
A fallen angel raises itself above all other beings, as though it holds the power of even the weakest of Shub-niggurath's spawn.
The angel acts, fighting against it's kin and holding the human males away from the reach of the fallen angel.
When the fallen angel seizes the younger male cthulu stirs in his slumber and prepares to wake.
But the stars are not right and the fallen angel loses his grasp on the young male.
Cthulu slumbers on, waiting for the stars to be right.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:49 am (UTC)Endlessly rolling, wasted and stolen, changing hands, changing hands
Date: 2011-08-08 05:52 pm (UTC)Genre: gen
Rating: PG
Word count: 1114
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Disclaimers: No harm intended, no profit made, yadda yadda. Title and quote One Silver Dollar, Marilyn Monroe in River Of No Return
Summary: White Collar, Neal Caffrey, The Trickster (pantheon of the author's choice, i.e. Loki, Coyote, Eris, etc.) would like a few words with a child of theirs.
Author’s note: The pantheon of my choice being the universe of the Kripkeeper, in other words Supernatural, this is Trickster!Gabe. Archangel posing as Loki. Here we go.
One silver dollar, one silver dollar
Changing hearts
Changing lives
Changing hands
The guy was fairly nondescript. Medium height, dirty blond hair, nothing much to see, really – unless you looked him in the eye. The eyes were old and filled with mischief. Little fairy lights were dancing in their depths and whoever looked into them for a while would get lost in them.
He was sitting at the bar across from Neal, tumbler of Scotch in hand, eyeing the younger man with curiosity and, so it seemed, approval. Neal felt slightly uneasy – was the guy trying to pick him up? No, didn’t really seem like it, somehow. But what then?
Neal turned his attention back to the vieux prune he was nursing. No, he didn’t need to get to the bottom of EVERYTHING, did he now? He was here because they had the best vieux prune in Manhattan, because it was his birthday and he intended to indulge himself a little and because he wasn’t likely to run into any F.B.I. agents in here.
He looked up at a sudden rustle of movement at his elbow.
“Hellouhhhh, I’m Gabe,” said the man with the weird eyes and grinned at Neal, ear to ear. Somehow, that grin entirely failed to be reassuring.
“Neal,” he said, trying not to sound encouraging.
“Aww, c’mon, Caffrey, I know that. And don’t you be shy. Just dropping by to say you’re doing me proud, my boy,” weird eye guy said.
Now, Neal KNEW without a doubt who his father had been. And no, his father’s name hadn’t been Caffrey, nor any other name Peter had on file, for that matter. So why was that creep doing that… pseudo father thing? He opened his mouth to say something snappish, but the man cut him short with an expressive wave of his hand.
“No, no, seriously, do I LOOK old enough to be your daddykins? Nah, not your old man, your mom never lied to you. But… we go way back, you and me, Neal. I’ll stick with Neal, if that’s okay with you? Always been partial to that name.”
The guy grinned at him again, then motioned to the barkeeper to fill ‘em up again. The young man complied and slapped a bowl of nuts in front of them.
“Awesome, NUTS,” the man who called himself Gabe cried gleefully. “Here, have some, they’re good for you. Loads of… things, good things, I keep forgetting. Ah, who cares, they taste great, have some!”
Neal couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he had wandered into a weird movie. Some stuff where people turned the wrong corner and ended up in Bizarroland. Or dead. Or insane.
“Where were we?” the guy asked, still grinning as he stuffed another handful of nuts in his mouth.
“Ah, yes, how I know you, that’s what we were discussing. Well..” the guy cleared his throat theatrically, “I, Neal, am your godfather.”
Neal gaped at the man. His mother had never mentioned a Godfather and sure, the man was too young to be that, too.
“I can see what you’re thinking. Guy’s too young for that, too, eh?” The man named Gabe beamed at Neal. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m as old as time, in fact,” he said rather grandly.
“Instead of Gabriel, you could also call me Trickster. I’d answer to Loki, too. I’m… well… let’s just say I’m not human and I am as old as I claim to be.”
Pt. 2: Endlessly rolling, wasted and stolen, changing hands, changing hands
From:FILL: Endlessly rolling, wasted and stolen, changing hands, changing hands
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:51 am (UTC)(This is not Angel The Series; this is actual angels mythology.)
No fic but..
Date: 2011-01-19 07:56 am (UTC)*shoves giant dictionary of angels away from her before I get into rereading Metatron's entry*
I might be back with a fill for this soon, in other words.
Oh please oh please...
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:03 am (UTC)spn with elements of the myth
Date: 2011-01-19 09:04 am (UTC)It's easier to fend off memories when you're awake.
But his lover will be here soon, and then all the lights will go out and Dean won't be able to see a thing. And then it will be hands, stronger than any man's, but cautious and gentle on Dean's skin. Hands exactly the size as the prints on Dean's shoulder.
It started innocently. As most things are before Dean gets his way. But it started with a whisper in the dark. Comfort to cool the nightmare terrors. And then questions, mostly from Dean, mostly without answer. The only thing the man in the dark would confirm was that yes, he was the one who pulled Dean up from the pit, and no, he wasn't evil.
He said he was there to help Dean. To lessen his pain and embolden his work. And that sounded like a bullshit pickup line to Dean, and he would know. But the man came to him in the dark, and somehow Sam never woke, somehow the man in the dark knew everything Dean did down there and didn't hate him for it, wasn't disgusted like a decent person would be or delighted like a demon would be.
For weeks, Dean just accepted the comfort. A man he couldn't see, warm and solid, next to him, stroking his hair, letting him sleep without pain.
But Dean wasn't the type to leave well enough alone.
The first night Dean kissed him, it was out of desperation. He had spent weeks wanting the man, wanting to know him, and, if he couldn't have that, he would have the next best.
He kissed him once, and the man in the dark sat there passive and confused.
He kissed him again, frantic, not wanting to be wrong, not wanting it to be a mistake.
The man in the dark kissed back, mirroring Dean's actions almost exactly.
"Be with me," Dean whispered in his ear, "Be with me, and I'll stop asking you who you are." It was a bad bargain, Dean knew, a stupid one, maybe his second worst. But he needed this man. And it was astonishing to Dean; he didn't think he would ever want to feel anything again, but he felt it. Need. Which meant there was some part of his insides that were still kicking. That being alive was real, not just a show he was putting on badly.
And so he promised. To go blindly into it. And the man in the dark accepted his promise, accepted his body, made his body and mind hum with pleasure and forgetting and joy, and Dean never thought he would feel joy again, but somehow this man could do this. This man could pull him up and make him a little less broken with every moan, every caress.
And it worked. At night, Dean was happy. He was surprised he was able to be happy, but in the dark, with the faceless man, he was happy.
During the day, he was miserable. He thought about his stupid promise, about the kind of powerful demon who could pull a man from the pit. He thought about what his plan must be, what a horrible beast this man must be.
And so he finally told Sam and Bobby about it.
They set a trap.
They flipped on the lights and shot him, stabbed him with silver, threw everything they could at him.
He barely blinked. The man - looking so much like ... just a man. A shirt and a coat and a loosened tie, like an accountant after a long day. Except that bullets didn't hurt him.
"What are you?" Dean asked, stomach sinking.
For a moment, just a brief second, Dean and Sam and Bobby saw it. Shadows wide and tall behind him.
Wings.
And then he looked at Dean. Sad.
And Dean realized that he had broken his promise.
And then he was gone.
Bobby and Sam said it was for the best.
That night, Dean lay awake in bed. Waiting.
He stayed awake all night.
Nobody came.
Re: spn with elements of the myth
From:Re: spn with elements of the myth
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:08 am (UTC)(e.g.: Romulus/Remus, The Ashvins, Castor/Pollux)
No fic, but...
Date: 2011-01-19 10:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:11 am (UTC)No fic but...
Date: 2011-01-19 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:13 am (UTC)