#after a prayer to asariel

[exhalereleased]

How did I come back from this vision feeling more in love with you? And just so much certain that I'm doting on you, just so much certain that you want what I want to do: even if you're not, I am deliriously devoted to you.

"After a prayer to Asariel" by Acacia Selene

[tk-duveraun]

"Try to breathe slowly." author's choice

Dragon Age Fic. Mentions of fantasy slavery. Allusions to rape.

Isieth’el panted, desperately trying to get air into her lungs without inhaling the sickly-sweet scent of her own blood and the burned incense. The summoning had failed. She wanted to cry, but was too weak. Bad enough slavers had attacked her clan. Bad enough her sister had been killed. Bad enough she’d been kidnapped and branded and put in chains.

But then she’d been bought, told she was a mage and therefore a laetans and then… She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the shiver in her body. Fought the way her skin crawled. Her master had- and then let his son- And now she didn’t even have enough blood to try and summon a real demon.

She collapsed to her knees and, again, tried to cry, but could only suck in painful, wheezing gasps.

“Try to breathe slowly,” the demon said. It’s voice was warm and reassuring in a way that wasn’t possible without magic - not when it was a man’s voice.

“Shut up! Go away! Leave me!” The words were cracked and hollow and she heaved another dry sob. “I wanted a demon!”

The demon crouched nearby, mage robes bunching and long red hair brushing the stained, stone floor. “I am a demon. I think. Yes. Vengeance. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? And you certainly find my appearance hideous enough.”

Isi pulled her knees up to her face and pressed the wetness into them even as she blocked out the sight of it. “You can’t kill them like that. If a person could kill them, they’d be dead.”

The demon walked around the basement. She could hear it picking up and discarding items. It made a happy sound when it found her copper bowl and the focusing crystal within. “This’ll work. Don’t worry, little one. I’m not a person. I’m an idea. I can kill anything.”

An hour later, the demon was back in the dungeon, pressing her master’s bloody staff into her hands. “This is yours now.”

She looked up. It had blue eyes. Its face looked so… gentle. It was unnerving. It held an unfamiliar staff in its hand. Two foxes twisted around the top, barking at the focusing crystal it had taken from the bowl earlier. It didn’t offer her a hand up. 

“I took the liberty of freeing the slaves while I was upstairs. I can make dinner, if you’d like.”

Isi sniffed and wiped the tears away, even though it made dried blood flake and crack off of her cheeks. “You’re a demon. Of vengeance.”

“Probably.”

“And you’re going to… make dinner?”

“Vengeance comes from Justice, doesn’t it? And part of getting justice is having you fed, I should think.”

For all it looked like a human, it certainly sounded like a demon. Not a very good one, of course, but she wasn’t a particularly good blood mage. Perhaps it would be fine.

The demon killed things like a mage. Mostly with Frost. It said Justice was cold and hard, wasn’t it? It didn’t seem to know much about how demons should work.

“Why aren’t you snarly and…” Isith’el waved vaguely with her free hand. She’d seen demons summoned at… parties… when her master had first taken her to Minrathous. They were grotesque monstrosities that lashed out at anything nearby, barely controlled.

“My kind usually can’t acclimate to the… ‘realness’ outside of the Fade. I think your vision of fear, the horrible thing you wanted you destroy what had hurt you was particularly clear that’s why…” The demon gestured to itself. Its robes were still fancy black and gold, though its outer robe was somewhere else in the manor, a cumbersome thing when it was trying to cook or clean. Its under robe would acquire dirt, but if Isi looked away and then back the dirt was gone.

“I suppose,” she said, because it seemed to be expecting some input from her.

It smiled at her. None of its teeth were even pointed. What a strange demon.

Vulpes, Isi called it. It had made the staff out of… pure magic, she guessed. It hadn’t had an answer when she asked. For the most part it acted like her servant, which was strange to experience. It didn’t know how it knew enough mortal magic to teach her, but it did.

Vulpes never touched her, which was nice. It was also terribly polite and mild, even when it froze men solid and then made the block of ice break cleanly in half. It would even apologize to the corpses, sometimes. “Sorry, but my charge has to come first.”

That’s Isi was to it. A charge. Not a slave. Or a knife-ear. It did act like a nanny, with the cooking and cleaning, so she didn’t mind it overmuch. She missed her parents, but they were dead and it couldn’t bring them back.

It even used magic to tuck her in, when she was overtired and couldn’t walk herself to bed. She might have overworked herself a few times, just to be doted on.

“I want to plant trees. For my clan,” she said one day.

Vulpes blinked at her and tilted its head. “I know a good place.”

She blinked back. “In the mortal world?”

It pursed its lips in thought and then nodded. “Yes. Asariel. There’s one there already.” It paused. “Well, there are trees everywhere, of course, except perhaps the Western Approach, or maybe even the Anderfels, but yes, in Asariel, there is a tree for one fallen too early. I can see it very clearly.”

Isi was afraid of travelling in Tevinter. Even with her staff and her demon. Her magic was much stronger now. She was afraid, but she didn’t want her family to be alone. To be with others here in Tevinter, would mean a lot. She nodded.

They skirted the farmhouse. Isi was laetans and Vulpes looked like a magister, but still they didn’t want a confrontation with anyone. The demon didn’t look at the tree that already stood. It was younger than Isi expected. She’d been looking forward to some giant, sprawling thing laid out by one of her people. Not this… It couldn’t have been even fifty years old.

But Vulpes didn’t look. It was focused on the task, manually digging where they would plant the saplings. It handled them gently, cradling them like precious things and stroking the leaves when it had secured them in the ground. It even knew the prayer to say over them, though its pronunciation was poor.

Only after Isi’s family were laid to rest did the demon turn to the tree that was there when they arrived. It stroked the bark like greeting an old friend.

Because it was.

“Hello, Rathi. Still enjoying the view? You made me promise I wouldn’t let them kill me. I think I did a good job.”

Vulpes didn’t answer any questions about the tree. Though, it also didn’t seem to really know anything about it once they were gone. Isi almost thought she’d imagined it, but it niggled and pulled at the back of her mind.

Had it been summoned before? Been this Rathi’s caretaker before it was hers? She wanted to know, but it had been so long since she’d summoned it that she was afraid. Afraid that it wasn’t bound and under her control. It may never have been, she’d summoned it under terrible circumstances and with almost no preparation.

But mostly she was afraid it would leave. It was her friend, her family. It had been adopted by a stray cat that it pampered. A little orange and white thing that it named Fox so they would match. It laughed too much at the name, but it was a demon. She couldn’t expect it to have a regular sense of humor.

Isith’el clung to her demon when the slave rebellion came. She grabbed her wrists to lock her arms around its waist. She’d long since stopped fearing its male-shape.

But even if she hadn’t, the screams in the night were the most terrifying thing she’d ever heard. Tears she hadn’t been able to shed when she summoned it streamed from her face. She didn’t beg for help, it didn’t need her words. It kept one arm around her back and the other carried a yowling Fox as they escaped the city.

It had tied her hair back, made her elven ears and eyes as obvious as possible, even though it had no intent of being caught. She’d been a slave herself, but they didn’t trust the rebels to care too much.

The rebels caught them on the road to Asariel. Because she was an elf, they were taking to a captain and then his captain and passed up the line until the rebel general dropped his dagger at the very sight of Vulpes.

His skin should have swarthy, but it was white as he stared at the demon. “F-Fox?”

The demon tilted its head and felt terribly, disturbingly real.

“Oh, I remember you. You killed me.”

[mattzerella-sticks]

How Do You Solve a Problem Like...

When the angels discover Castiel is alive, they have no idea what to do. But one has an idea of just why the angel keeps coming back... if the very notion didn't inspire a heated argument. (AO3)

           “…so as you can see from this chart, with Crowley’s recent ‘abjection’ has stemmed the flow of souls going towards Hell and is allowing us to finally have a net gain.”

           Flagstaff clicks for the next slide, where a picture of Asmodeus grins evilly out towards the other occupants of the angelic boardroom. Nearly every angel squirms, save for Lily who sits at the head of the table. Her hands are folded neatly across the solid mahogany, and her face is set in near determination.

           “However,” Flagstaff continues, “the threat from Hell is still present – especially now that Asmodeus is trying to bring war to our doorsteps. We have knowledge that he was near successful in releasing the Shedim –“

           “What stopped him?” Lily asks, drawing all eyes towards her.

           Flagstaff looks away, biting at her lip.

           “Well?”

           “It was,” Flagstaff sighs, “the Winchesters… and the Nephilim.”

           “Of course,” Lily says, rising in frustration. She paces towards Flagstaff slowly, her words hanging over each and every angel present at their conference, “The Winchesters and their newest ally. Remind me… how has the investigation into finding him been going?”

           “It is… still in the works,” Conrad answers, shakily, “We thought we had a trace but suddenly he… disappeared?”

           “And have we discovered any new ways we could harness his powers for our benefit?”

           “That has also hit a few snags,” Asariel says, bowing her head slightly to avoid Lily’s searching eyes.

           “Unfortunate,” Lily says, pausing in front of Flagstaff. She puts a firm hand on her elbow and tilts her head to the side.

           “Of course,” Flagstaff bows, walking back to her seat.

           “Now,” Lily starts, “let me start by saying that I don’t like when I have to act like this. But sometimes, a heavy hand is what’s best in these types of situations: where you’re forced against a corner with no clear victory in sight. Hell is getting stronger by the day, culling their ‘weak’ and putting their soldiers through vicious training regiments I have the common decency and respect not to force upon you! But if they launched an attack we would not only be outnumbered we would be outmatched! And we shouldn’t have to rely on two pesky humans to solve our problems for us! We need that Nephilim so we can show Hell just how powerful Heaven is-woah!”

           The room shakes, and each and every angel along with it. Lily almost falls, having to brace against the wall to support herself.

           “What… was that?”

           “Could it be Hell, ma’am?” Ingrid asks, rising along with everyone else.

           “No, no…” Nathaniel says, his hand smooth across his brow, “it was… something else. Don’t you feel it? Like this huge… brick of emotion was just shrugged off of Heaven’s shoulders.”

           The others look around, delving with their grace into Heaven’s soul. Indeed, a heavy fixture that was burdened upon them recently has been uprooted and stolen.

           “But that’s not possible,” Conrad says, “we all agreed we would just let it pile up until he died!”

           “Someone must have tapped into it,” Flagstaff butts in, “Almost collapsing us like a Jenga Tower!”

           “But who would be stupid enough to –“ Lily’s eyes widen, “…no.”

           “Ma’am?”

           She turns, reaching out with her grace to follow the trail of longing that was taken by the unnamed angel. She follows the power all the way to a bright field in the Midwest, where a familiar face is embracing it.

           “…Castiel?”

           “What?” Conrad asks, walking to her.

           “It’s Castiel,” she says louder, drawing everyone near.

           “No, it can’t be,” Ingrid shakes her head, “He’s dead. We all felt it. You saw it!”

           “I saw him!” Lily turns, “I saw him draped in the hunter’s prayers! Who else would even want to touch the longing that pours off of that human!?!”

           The room grows silent, and one by one they all return to their seats. Each is losts in their own thoughts, until a small cough interrupts them all.

           Asariel’s brows are furrowed, and she scans her eyes across the room.

           “Just how does Castiel keep coming back?”

           They sigh.

           “Who knows,” Conrad starts, “he’s like a cockroach. We think he’s dead but he just… finds a way?”

           “There has to be something more,” Flagstaff says, “It’s not like we can’t do the same thing?”

           “Do you want to test it out?” Conrad fires back. Flagstaff doesn’t answer.

           “It’s not just him,” Ingrid says, “There’s also Dean and Sam Winchester. Those two know more about coming back to life than anyone.”

           “Maybe they only tell those they lay with?”

           “But what about Jess?”

           The group turns on Nathaniel.

           “Who?”

           “You know… Jess? Sam’s girlfriend?” When no one else responds, Nathaniel sighs and moves towards a nearby white board.

           “Jess – Sam’s girlfriend – who slept with him and who is now dead,” He draws the line between Sam and Jess on the board before writing another name. “We also have Sarah, who although lived for a long time after meeting them, still ended up dead. As well as Madison, Ruby, and most recently – Eileen.”

           “Didn’t he also have another girlfriend?” Ingrid pipes up, “Amelia something-or-other? I don’t think she’s dead.”

           “You’re right,” Nathaniel chuckles, “But last year she got into a drunk-driving accident and almost died!”

           “Jesus!” Conrad gapes, “What does that have to do with anything!”

           “It’s just a theory, but… I believe that anyone who was fucked by a Winchester has nothing but a horrible life ahead of them.”

           Silence.

           “You can’t be serious-“

           “But I am!” Nathaniel continues, “Mary Winchester – fucked by John Winchester. Dead, brought back to life… now stuck in an alternate dimension with Lucfier himself. Better than Kate Milligan, who John also fucked, but is now just dead.”

           “So?” Asariel asks, “Just because John and Sam have these… dicks of destruction, doesn’t mean anything about Castiel!”

           “I’m getting to it!” Nathaniel grumbles, before turning around to write a few more things down.

           Conrad leans towards Asariel and whispers, “You can’t be buying into this can you?”

           “Maybe?” she shrugs, “But I also want to see where this goes.”

           “Good point.”

           “Now Dean,” Nathaniel stabs at the whiteboard with his marker, “Slept with Anna – dead. Lisa? Alive, but her life isn’t anything special. Especially because she suffers from near-death experiences almost every six months.”

           “And Castiel?” Conrad asks, “How does he factor into this? Shouldn’t he be dead like the others?”

           “No, because from my theories… if getting fucked by a Winchester leads to misery and death… then fucking a Winchester means that you’re granted eternal life.”

           Thankfully, there’s no silence this time. However, the uproar of disbelief is not what Nathaniel was expecting.

           “This is preposterous, how can you-“

           “-waste of our time and-“

           “-believe you think that’s a thing! And further more-“

           “Settle down settle down!” Nathaniel quiets them, “I assure you it’s a plausible theory!”

           “It’s a theory based on conjecture and happenstance,” Flagstaff starts, slamming her hands on the table, “There’re no tests! No data!”

           “Observational data is the same as primary data!”

           “That is qualitative at best and only suitable for designing your experiment not making wild claims!”

           “Oh, so you’re saying Dean and Castiel have not slept together once in all the time they’ve known each other?”

           “Of course not!” Flagstaff yells, “I’m not denying that they’ve slept together but if you think you can claim that Castiel fucked Dean Winchester without certifiable proof then you are asking me to turn my back on the scientific method!”

           “It’s so obvious that Dean would get fucked by Castiel,” Ingrid says, “Have you looked at him?”

           “No way!” Conrad jumps in, “If there’s one person who would do the fucking it would be Dean Winchester. That boy has too many issues to allow someone near his prostate!”

           “But that’s why Castiel would be the only one!” Asariel says, “Dean trusts him so much he’d trust him with this, too!”

           “I can’t believe you would think Castiel would even know what to do down there!”

           “Castiel doesn’t take orders on the field why would he do so in the bedroom!”

           The group continues squabbling, while Lily nearly collapses onto the table in agony, wondering just how far her kind is squabbling if they’re spending their time debating Dean and Castiel’s relationship.

           Jack stares at his cereal, unable to eat. His head is close to exploding, the voices louder than usual. He groans and rubs at his temples.

           “You okay there Jack?” Sam asks from across the table. Dean gives him a curious look from next to Sam, but doesn’t say anything.

           “The voices… they’re louder than usual.”

           “Those feathery dicks up to something again?” Dean scoffs, taking a sip of beer, “Wonder what it could be this time?”

           “Jack?” Sam continues, “Can you understand what they’re saying?”

           “Not… really?” Jack says, looking at Dean, “Dean? What’s a ‘bottom’ and why are you one?”

           Dean nearly chokes on his beer. Sam’s mind has stopped working, but by the time Dean recovers from near death he’s started a slow chuckle. It makes its way up to a full-on cackle as he watches Dean both explain and defend himself to Jack with rosy cheeks.

           Dean, having had enough pushes his chair angrily away from the table and storms away.

           “Dean!” Jack calls after him, “Where are you going?”

           “To kick some heavenly douchebags in their ‘bottoms’!”

[cryptodictation]

The guardian angel of each sign of the zodiac

Each sign has a protective angel and it is possible to communicate with them through prayer or other means such as using a candle and others. They were left to free us from dangers, they have a strong influence on our lives during our journey here on earth. As for example in the sentimental, financial, professional, health, spiritual, decisions to be made and others. Angels were left to guide us in the face of unpredictable situations in our daily lives and that is why we must turn to them to help us.

Aries

The protector of the Aries natives called Samuel (or Camael) which means ‘the justice of the lord’. He is an angel of good energy and likes to please and help in protection by fighting great battles in life. The angel Samuel is always available when he is called.

Bull

The angel who protects people from sign of Taurus call Anael or ‘Haniel’ which means ‘grace of God’. This angel governs everything about love, beauty, art. It conveys spirituality.

Gemini

The helper of the natives of twins called Rafael or ‘Rafhael’ which means ‘God who heals’.

This angel commands intelligence and spiritual and emotional balance.

Cancer

The protector of the Cancer natives called Gabriel. This angel dominates enrichment and fertility. It conveys confidence in decisions.

Lion

The angel who assists the Leos called Miguel. This angel is powerful and dominates financial matters. It inspires leadership power.

Virgin

The protective angel of the natives of Virgo called Rafael.

This angel governs the area of ​​work and intelligence. It inspires strong reflections on human life on earth.

Lb

Librans are also protected by Anael. He works in the area of ​​love and beauty. It inspires passions.

Scorpion

The angel who protects the native people of Scorpio called Azrael. This governing angel of the beginning and the end, he accompanies during life and after death. It transmits positive energies.

Sagittarius

The guardian angel of the Sagittarius natives called Saquiel. This angel acts in financial fluency. It also conveys faith.

Capricorn

The protector of the people of the sign Capricorn call Cassiel. This angel acts in the material area, protects the elderly and dominates the destiny of humanity. It conveys maturity.

Aquarium

The angel who helps the Aquarians called Uriel. He works in the area of ​​changes. He conveys luck and grace. It inspires transformations.

Fish

The protective angel of the people native to the sign of Pisces called Asariel. This angel dominates the art of sensuality and mysticism.

It helps to balance the duplicity of character. It conveys spirituality.

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[ravencall70]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fenris/Dorian Pavus Characters: Varric Tethras, Female Hawke, Halward Pavus, Aquinea Thalrassian Additional Tags: Loss, Betrayal, First Love, Memory Loss, Drinking, Arguing, First Kiss, POV Dorian Pavus, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Sex, Gay Male Character, Canon Gay Character, Eventual Romance, Amnesia Series: Part 3 of After Dark: Tales from Thedas Summary:

Isolated by his parents, Dorian is desperate for a friend. When he meets a mysterious elf by accident, he hopes his prayers have been answered but his life has never been that simple