New Day Rising - Chapter Eight
Title: New Day Rising (8/10)
Author: scyllaya
Artist: lynndyre
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Warning(s): graphic sexual content, mentions of past major character deaths, depressed!Dean, some H/C, umm… spiders?
Spoiler(s): none, AU
Word Count: ~ 26 400
Summary: Dean’s life does not look good at all, and that’s putting it mildly. He’s lost everything that he ever cared for. He’s tired of his life, frankly, he’s tired of everything, but things are about to change beyond his imagination. He needs to learn that the world is not the place he believed it to be, and that there is still more to life for him than just guilt and misery. It all starts with an unexpected one-night stand, and a new job at a strange music shop, with an even stranger owner.
Beta: uliamos
Chapter Eight
‘Why didn’t you tell me? When I asked what you were?’
‘It’s not as simple as that, Dean,’ Gabriel started. ‘I would’ve told you… in time. Giving out a true name has a weight to it.’
‘It’s not like your name is a secret.’
‘No,’ Gabriel chuckled. ‘But it’s one thing to know a name of a character in a story, or a name of some godly being you just heard about somewhere, and another to be able to say a true name and being able to picture my appearance as well.’
‘You didn’t trust me.’
‘I don’t trust anyone easily,’ Gabriel smiled wistfully. ‘And I thought the big magic revelation was huge enough for one day. I would’ve told you eventually…this is not easy for me either. I don’t normally get this close to humans… I just don’t. You’re like mayflies… gone in a blink, it’s… I don’t do this. It’s messy, it’s complicated, it’s painful… I… really try not to do this.’
‘Why am I different then?’
‘You just are,’ Gabriel answered, offering no other explanation.
‘So… should I call you… Loki… from now on?’ Dean asked.
‘No… Gabriel is fine, I’ve been using it for centuries, I’ve grown fond of it.’
‘A god…’ Dean shook his head in disbelief.
‘Don’t think too much of it.’
‘How could I not? You’re a freakin’ god!’ Dean exclaimed.
‘Let me tell you a story,’ Gabriel said, reaching out to touch his hand again.
‘Okay,’ Dean nodded and settled down to listen.
Once upon a time… (Seriously? You’re gonna start it like that?... Shut up, Dean. Just listen.) …Once upon a time there was a powerful god, who lived at the top of the coldest, darkest mountains of the North. He didn’t know he was a god, he didn’t even know what a god was. He was the air, the bright blue sky; he was quick like the wind and smart like a fox, but cold just like the icy cliffs around him. He was also very-very bored all the time, and very-very lonely. The mountain animals were not really interesting and one could only chase around the storms so many times before even that became dull.
So there was this smart, powerful god (With a huge ego…. Seriously Dean, shut it, let me talk.) with nothing in the world to do. So one day he ventured down from the high icy cliffs to see what else was in the world. He wandered for a long time, but finally he found something interesting. He found someone that felt very similar to him. He didn’t look like him and he was not swift as the wind or smart as a fox, but he felt similar. He also found small things, small and warm like the mountain animals. The small things were singing praises for the other god and brought gifts upon gifts on a large stone, for him no doubt. The god from the icy mountains stared for a while then went closer, because he was not just quick and smart, but also very curious.
‘Why do they bring you gifts?’ he asked.
‘I’m their god,’ the other answered. ‘They praise me and love me and sing for me.’
That sounded really nice, and the little ones looked like fun too, a lot more exciting than the mountain animals.
‘Would they sing for me too?’ he asked. The other laughed.
‘They must know you and love you before that.’
‘How do I do that?’
‘You must be one of the gods first.’
‘You feel similar, so I already must be one.’
‘You do, you do, indeed you must be,’ said the bright god. ‘Maybe we’re even long lost brothers.’ The god had no idea what a brother was, but he didn’t object.
‘If I’m your brother will they sing for me?’
‘You will be one of the gods then.’
‘I am your brother then,’ he told the other god.
‘By The Nine, you are then! Come here and drink with me brother! I am Odin, The Mighty God of War and Magic, what is your name?’
‘My name?’
‘You have no name? The humans won’t sing you praises then!’
‘Why not?’
‘They must name you first, how else would you know whether a song is for you or some other god?’
The god from the icy cliffs thought about that for a moment. Yes, he would not know if they were singing for him, if they couldn’t call his name. He needed one then.
‘How do I get them to name me?’ he asked Odin.
‘You must show them you’re here, that you have power, show them what you can do! Warriors praise me for my strength, so that they may be strong and victorious in battle, they praise me for my wisdom, so that they may be wise themselves, they call my name when they start a hunt, in hope to kill the mightiest beasts.’
‘I see,’ the god mused. He did not know what to show, but he was fast like the wind and smart like a fox, so he went to think and figure something out.
He watched the little ones for a long time, thinking about what to show so that they would sing for him too. He watched the other gods too, but soon realised that he didn’t have powers like most of them. He couldn’t control the storms or coax nurslings out of the ground, he was no warrior either. So he was just watching and thinking, but not really knowing what to do.
One day he saw children for the first time, small and joyful, chasing each other like he always chased the storms. They were entertaining, even more so than the bigger humans. Then suddenly one of them started to cry, so the god went closer to look what was happening. An older boy was running away with a toy clutched in his hand, while a little girl was running after him, crying and pleading, tears streaming down her face. The god didn’t like the sound, laughter was much better. So as he was fast as the wind and clever as a fox he swiftly moved after the boy and used the wind to smack him in the face with a twig. The boy stumbled and dropped the toy and the little girl quickly ran and picked it up from the ground. ‘Served you right,’ she told the boy sticking out her tongue, then she let out a small bubbling laugh and she ran away, pleased at having her toy back. The god decided that yes, this was something he could do. So he did.
He didn’t bother with the adults; the children were a lot more fun. Whenever crying or angry shouting caught his ears he went to see what was happening and if some of the children were naughty, they soon found themselves stumbling on a root or a rock. He never hurt them much though. It was just a bit of fun really, just a bit of a reminder, just to show them that they did something that hurt others. Then he became a bit more creative, naughty children accidentally sat down on an ant hill or a bug crawled down their clothes. He enjoyed his small pranks and most of the time it turned tears into smiles and crying into laughter, so it was well. Time went on with the god playing his tricks and pranks, and then it happened…
‘No, stop it! If you’re bad Loptr’s gonna get you!’
It took some time for him to realise that it was him they talked about. They named him. They called him “Air”… he really had a name at last.
First it was only children, but soon those children grew up and have not forgotten about him. Mothers chided their children, warning them that Loptr would play mean tricks on them if they didn’t behave. The more they talked about him, the more they called to him, the more he felt a change happening. He started to look like the other gods, he could have a solid body, real arms and legs, he had a face and a mouth, and eyes to see everything with more clarity. And he was also growing stronger and stronger. After a while he could do a lot more than just move some rocks and twigs, he could take any shape he wanted and swim with the fish or fly with the birds, he could run in the deep forests like the clever fox he was. He was ever-changing like the winds.
He went back to search for his brother and found him easily. He welcomed him with open arms at is table and Loptr truly became one of them.
As time went on, not only the children started to call to him, but everyone else too. But while children didn’t want all that much, adults were different. Naughty children stole toys or food from others, pulled other’s hair or hit those who were weaker, but adults… now that Loptr had to turn his sight away from the children to pay attention to everyone… he saw evil. He saw blood and murder, he saw pain, he saw endless tears, he saw cruel violence, and destruction.
The bad needed to be punished, needed to be reminded that what they did hurt others, that was Loptr’s task, so he did exactly that. The bigger the crime, the bigger the punishment followed, and Loptr was still smart as a fox, so he always found the right punishment. And when parents cried for vengeance on the murderer of their child, when brothers swore revenge for their fallen kin, and especially when there was no one to cry, no one to grieve, Loptr was there to punish the wicked ones for all the crimes they committed. And people cried and people cursed, and prayed for the cruel, the greedy, the jealous, and the wicked to be punished. And when there was no longer just laughter in his wake, but also blood and death… people no longer called him the air, he was still ever-changing, but not like the wind, not anymore. He was like the burning flame… he was Loki. Loki the Icy Wind, Loki the Dark Fire, Loki the Wanderer, Loki the Sky Traveller, Loki the Trickster with the silver tongue, Loki the Deceiver, Loki the Destroyer, Loki the Sly One, Loki the Clever, they called him all and many other names, almost too many to count.
Some praised him, some feared him, but all knew him, and he grew strong. People always wanted revenge, always wanted vengeance, always wanted to believe that evil will be punished, so Loki was their revenge, Loki was their vengeance, Loki was who punished them. That was his task and he accepted that. He did something good after all, or so he believed. He became one of the strongest of all the gods who walked the Earth. He became a true master of magic with power over all things, he was great and mighty and that remained so for many-many years to come.
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>>> Link to art post <<<
Author: scyllaya
Artist: lynndyre
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Warning(s): graphic sexual content, mentions of past major character deaths, depressed!Dean, some H/C, umm… spiders?
Spoiler(s): none, AU
Word Count: ~ 26 400
Summary: Dean’s life does not look good at all, and that’s putting it mildly. He’s lost everything that he ever cared for. He’s tired of his life, frankly, he’s tired of everything, but things are about to change beyond his imagination. He needs to learn that the world is not the place he believed it to be, and that there is still more to life for him than just guilt and misery. It all starts with an unexpected one-night stand, and a new job at a strange music shop, with an even stranger owner.
Beta: uliamos
Chapter Eight
‘Why didn’t you tell me? When I asked what you were?’
‘It’s not as simple as that, Dean,’ Gabriel started. ‘I would’ve told you… in time. Giving out a true name has a weight to it.’
‘It’s not like your name is a secret.’
‘No,’ Gabriel chuckled. ‘But it’s one thing to know a name of a character in a story, or a name of some godly being you just heard about somewhere, and another to be able to say a true name and being able to picture my appearance as well.’
‘You didn’t trust me.’
‘I don’t trust anyone easily,’ Gabriel smiled wistfully. ‘And I thought the big magic revelation was huge enough for one day. I would’ve told you eventually…this is not easy for me either. I don’t normally get this close to humans… I just don’t. You’re like mayflies… gone in a blink, it’s… I don’t do this. It’s messy, it’s complicated, it’s painful… I… really try not to do this.’
‘Why am I different then?’
‘You just are,’ Gabriel answered, offering no other explanation.
‘So… should I call you… Loki… from now on?’ Dean asked.
‘No… Gabriel is fine, I’ve been using it for centuries, I’ve grown fond of it.’
‘A god…’ Dean shook his head in disbelief.
‘Don’t think too much of it.’
‘How could I not? You’re a freakin’ god!’ Dean exclaimed.
‘Let me tell you a story,’ Gabriel said, reaching out to touch his hand again.
‘Okay,’ Dean nodded and settled down to listen.
Once upon a time… (Seriously? You’re gonna start it like that?... Shut up, Dean. Just listen.) …Once upon a time there was a powerful god, who lived at the top of the coldest, darkest mountains of the North. He didn’t know he was a god, he didn’t even know what a god was. He was the air, the bright blue sky; he was quick like the wind and smart like a fox, but cold just like the icy cliffs around him. He was also very-very bored all the time, and very-very lonely. The mountain animals were not really interesting and one could only chase around the storms so many times before even that became dull.
So there was this smart, powerful god (With a huge ego…. Seriously Dean, shut it, let me talk.) with nothing in the world to do. So one day he ventured down from the high icy cliffs to see what else was in the world. He wandered for a long time, but finally he found something interesting. He found someone that felt very similar to him. He didn’t look like him and he was not swift as the wind or smart as a fox, but he felt similar. He also found small things, small and warm like the mountain animals. The small things were singing praises for the other god and brought gifts upon gifts on a large stone, for him no doubt. The god from the icy mountains stared for a while then went closer, because he was not just quick and smart, but also very curious.
‘Why do they bring you gifts?’ he asked.
‘I’m their god,’ the other answered. ‘They praise me and love me and sing for me.’
That sounded really nice, and the little ones looked like fun too, a lot more exciting than the mountain animals.
‘Would they sing for me too?’ he asked. The other laughed.
‘They must know you and love you before that.’
‘How do I do that?’
‘You must be one of the gods first.’
‘You feel similar, so I already must be one.’
‘You do, you do, indeed you must be,’ said the bright god. ‘Maybe we’re even long lost brothers.’ The god had no idea what a brother was, but he didn’t object.
‘If I’m your brother will they sing for me?’
‘You will be one of the gods then.’
‘I am your brother then,’ he told the other god.
‘By The Nine, you are then! Come here and drink with me brother! I am Odin, The Mighty God of War and Magic, what is your name?’
‘My name?’
‘You have no name? The humans won’t sing you praises then!’
‘Why not?’
‘They must name you first, how else would you know whether a song is for you or some other god?’
The god from the icy cliffs thought about that for a moment. Yes, he would not know if they were singing for him, if they couldn’t call his name. He needed one then.
‘How do I get them to name me?’ he asked Odin.
‘You must show them you’re here, that you have power, show them what you can do! Warriors praise me for my strength, so that they may be strong and victorious in battle, they praise me for my wisdom, so that they may be wise themselves, they call my name when they start a hunt, in hope to kill the mightiest beasts.’
‘I see,’ the god mused. He did not know what to show, but he was fast like the wind and smart like a fox, so he went to think and figure something out.
He watched the little ones for a long time, thinking about what to show so that they would sing for him too. He watched the other gods too, but soon realised that he didn’t have powers like most of them. He couldn’t control the storms or coax nurslings out of the ground, he was no warrior either. So he was just watching and thinking, but not really knowing what to do.
One day he saw children for the first time, small and joyful, chasing each other like he always chased the storms. They were entertaining, even more so than the bigger humans. Then suddenly one of them started to cry, so the god went closer to look what was happening. An older boy was running away with a toy clutched in his hand, while a little girl was running after him, crying and pleading, tears streaming down her face. The god didn’t like the sound, laughter was much better. So as he was fast as the wind and clever as a fox he swiftly moved after the boy and used the wind to smack him in the face with a twig. The boy stumbled and dropped the toy and the little girl quickly ran and picked it up from the ground. ‘Served you right,’ she told the boy sticking out her tongue, then she let out a small bubbling laugh and she ran away, pleased at having her toy back. The god decided that yes, this was something he could do. So he did.
He didn’t bother with the adults; the children were a lot more fun. Whenever crying or angry shouting caught his ears he went to see what was happening and if some of the children were naughty, they soon found themselves stumbling on a root or a rock. He never hurt them much though. It was just a bit of fun really, just a bit of a reminder, just to show them that they did something that hurt others. Then he became a bit more creative, naughty children accidentally sat down on an ant hill or a bug crawled down their clothes. He enjoyed his small pranks and most of the time it turned tears into smiles and crying into laughter, so it was well. Time went on with the god playing his tricks and pranks, and then it happened…
‘No, stop it! If you’re bad Loptr’s gonna get you!’
It took some time for him to realise that it was him they talked about. They named him. They called him “Air”… he really had a name at last.
First it was only children, but soon those children grew up and have not forgotten about him. Mothers chided their children, warning them that Loptr would play mean tricks on them if they didn’t behave. The more they talked about him, the more they called to him, the more he felt a change happening. He started to look like the other gods, he could have a solid body, real arms and legs, he had a face and a mouth, and eyes to see everything with more clarity. And he was also growing stronger and stronger. After a while he could do a lot more than just move some rocks and twigs, he could take any shape he wanted and swim with the fish or fly with the birds, he could run in the deep forests like the clever fox he was. He was ever-changing like the winds.
He went back to search for his brother and found him easily. He welcomed him with open arms at is table and Loptr truly became one of them.
As time went on, not only the children started to call to him, but everyone else too. But while children didn’t want all that much, adults were different. Naughty children stole toys or food from others, pulled other’s hair or hit those who were weaker, but adults… now that Loptr had to turn his sight away from the children to pay attention to everyone… he saw evil. He saw blood and murder, he saw pain, he saw endless tears, he saw cruel violence, and destruction.
The bad needed to be punished, needed to be reminded that what they did hurt others, that was Loptr’s task, so he did exactly that. The bigger the crime, the bigger the punishment followed, and Loptr was still smart as a fox, so he always found the right punishment. And when parents cried for vengeance on the murderer of their child, when brothers swore revenge for their fallen kin, and especially when there was no one to cry, no one to grieve, Loptr was there to punish the wicked ones for all the crimes they committed. And people cried and people cursed, and prayed for the cruel, the greedy, the jealous, and the wicked to be punished. And when there was no longer just laughter in his wake, but also blood and death… people no longer called him the air, he was still ever-changing, but not like the wind, not anymore. He was like the burning flame… he was Loki. Loki the Icy Wind, Loki the Dark Fire, Loki the Wanderer, Loki the Sky Traveller, Loki the Trickster with the silver tongue, Loki the Deceiver, Loki the Destroyer, Loki the Sly One, Loki the Clever, they called him all and many other names, almost too many to count.
Some praised him, some feared him, but all knew him, and he grew strong. People always wanted revenge, always wanted vengeance, always wanted to believe that evil will be punished, so Loki was their revenge, Loki was their vengeance, Loki was who punished them. That was his task and he accepted that. He did something good after all, or so he believed. He became one of the strongest of all the gods who walked the Earth. He became a true master of magic with power over all things, he was great and mighty and that remained so for many-many years to come.
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>>> Link to art post <<<