30 Days of Sobek: Day 23 – My Own Composition about Sobek

Okay, so this took a while, because I wanted to write something new, rather than post something I’d already written, and I couldn’t think of anything until Sobek suggested SPACE GOD COWBOYS IN SPACE or something like that, so. This is silly and occaisonally serious, and has more Heru in it than I intended, but there you go. That’s Sobek for you.

This is nearly 1600 words of mostly unedited stuff I wrote over the past three hours or so, so don’t expect a brilliantly detailed plot. Sobek, I think, just wanted something fun, and I didn’t want to rewrite the myths again. Because I’ve done that already. So this is a little gem of Sobek’s sense of humour. Enjoy. 😀

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Myth: Sobek Shedety, He Who Rises Like Ra

I’ve been contemplating Shedety myths, and this idea of Sobek rising out of the lake like Ra, of being renewed in the waters before rising at dawn. I find it to be very beautiful imagery, and I’ve been thinking about it mostly because I started writing this other story, set in an alternate universe, where Egypt has been invaded and all the temples and priests are being destroyed. The one that’s left is one of Sobek’s, and His priests decide to escape, refusing to let their gods die with them.

And so along with that comes the development of what Sobek Shedety’s cult and worship would look like. What the rituals would look like. What other gods would be with Him. What stories would shape the way they see the world. And this idea of Sobek as Ra resonated, and it’s been sitting with me ever since.

And so I come to this myth. I’ve been working on what I will refer to as a Book of Shadows, for lack of a better conceptual description for it, and I wanted to include not just the Celestial Twins myth, but also one for Shedet, because even in three years, that’s how far my cosmology has shifted, so. This is what I ended up writing. I’ve only made minor edits in the process of typing it up; otherwise, it’s as it was originally written.

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On Hermes and Hekate

Well, I said I was going to write about Hermes, and Hekate, and that time is now, so. Strap yourselves in, this might get long and rambly wooo. My posts generally get a bit long and rambly when I try to explain how I met a god because I started writing A Thing, and there is a lot of backstory to this, so. :D?

*grumbles about how this isn’t even the first time being a god’s scribe is hard u guise*

Also, I think I’ve covered everything, but if I’ve missed anything important along the way, I’m sure I’ll post about it later. :D?

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Myth: Something I’m Not (Wesir as a trans* god)

A/N: So I’ve spent the evening writing this, because apparently Wesir didn’t want to wait or anything once I’d figured out how to translate the experience of being transgendered as a human into something that would work for a god (He suggested daft humans who don’t want to listen to their god :D). Five thousand words and a lot of snark later, have a mythfic.

I wouldn’t consider this to be a very canonical retelling of the Osirian myth, though. It kind of became its own thing as I wrote it, particularly given how Wesir wanted to begin it, and where He wanted to go with it. I feel this sits more on the fanfic side of things, rather than the mythic side of things, but anyway. Enjoy?

Something I’m Not

He found there was nothing more exasperating than being a god, and seeing all the mortals just not understanding him. After all, Amun’s form, his true form, was known only to Amun, and they seemed to have no trouble with that. But somehow, Wesir was stuck with a priesthood who seemed unable to listen to their god when he spoke to them.

It wasn’t as if Wesir hadn’t tried. Sure, he was a god of fertility in this tiny region, the god who allowed the crops to live or die, but somehow, he hadn’t managed to get across to his priests that he didn’t want them to keep referring to him as a goddess. “I’m not a woman,’ he would whisper to his high priests when they opened the naos at dawn, but they would not listen. For some reason unknown to him, they had managed to completely misunderstand him when he’d said that it was his body that gave birth to the seeds. In retrospect, perhaps his choice of words might not have been wise, and perhaps he would have been better with a less poetic and metaphorical description. Instead, they had decided that the only way to make sense of such a thing was to erect statues to him, depicting him as a pregnant woman.

He sighed, and praised Ma’at that he only had any power in this tiny little region. Still, it was beginning to get to him, particularly since no one seemed able to recognise him unless he conformed to his statues. To deal with it, he had begun adopting that image, since it was all they recognised, and tried his best to not abandon them out of spite. He did still care about them; he had several temples and an active priesthood in several towns. It did no good to turn your back on that.

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