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wisdomrays · 3 years ago

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The Messenger of God: Muhammad: Part 38

Infallibility

Infallibility is a necessary attribute of the Prophets. The original Arabic word translated here as infallibility is 'isma, which means protecting, saving, or defending. It appears in the Qur'an in several derived forms. For example, when Prophet Noah asked his son to board the Ark, the latter replied: I will betake myself to some mountain; it will save me from the water. Noah replied: Today there is not a saving one [active participle] from the command of God (11:43).

The wife of a high Egyptian official, named Potiphar in the Bible (Genesis 39:1), uses the same word in: I did seek to seduce him, but he firmly saved himself guiltless (12:32). The Qur'an calls believers to hold fast to the rope of God—the Qur'an and Islam—using the same word in a different form: Hold fast all together to, and protect (against being divided), the rope of God (3:103). Again, we see the same word in the verse: God will defend (protect) you from people (5:67).

The infallibility of Prophets is an established fact based on reason and tradition. This quality is required for several reasons. First, Prophets came to convey the Message of God. If we liken this Message to pure water or light, as the Qur'an does (13:17, 24:35), the Archangel Gabriel (who brought it) and the Prophet (who conveyed it) also must be absolutely pure. If this were not the case, their impurity would pollute the Message. Every falling off is an impurity, a dark spot, in the heart. The hearts or souls of Gabriel and the Prophet are like polished mirrors that reflect the Divine Revelation to people, a cup from which people quench their thirst for the pure, Divine water.

Any black spot on the mirror would absorb a ray of that light; a single drop of mud would make the water unclear. As a result, the Prophets would not be able to deliver the complete Message. But they delivered the Message perfectly, as stated in the Qur'an: O Messenger! Convey what has been sent to you from your Lord. If you did not, you would not have fulfilled His mission. And God will defend you from people. Certainly, God guides not the unbelieving people (5:67) and: Today I have perfected your religion for you, and I have completed My favor upon you, and I have chosen and approved for you Islam as religion (5:3).

Second, the Prophets teach their people all the commands and principles of belief and conduct. So that the people learn their religion in its pristine purity and truth, and as perfectly as possible to secure their happiness and prosperity in both worlds, the Prophets must represent and then present the Revelation without fault or defect. This is their function as guides and good examples to be followed: You have in the Messenger of God a beautiful pattern, an excellent example, for anyone who aspires after God and the Last Day, and who engages much in the remembrance of God (33:21) and: There is for you an excellent example in Abraham and those with him … there was in them an excellent example for you—for those who aspire after God and the Last Day (60:4, 6).

A Prophet can do or say only that which has been sanctioned by God. If he could, he would have to repent even beyond his current lifetime. For example, Abraham will tell those who approach him for intercession on the Day of Judgment to go to Moses, saying he cannot intercede for them because he spoke allusively three times in his life. Although this is not a sin, his repentance will continue in the Hereafter.

Third, the Qur'an commands believers to obey the Prophet's orders and prohibitions, without exception, and emphasizes that it is not fitting for a believer, man or woman, when a matter has been decided by God and His Messenger, to have any option about their decision (33:36). It also warns believers that what falls to them when God and His Messenger have given a judgment is only to say: "We have heard and obeyed" (24:51). Absolute obedience to a Prophet means that all of his commands and prohibitions are correct and beyond reproach.

Prophethood is so great a favor that all Prophets bore extreme hardship while fulfilling the duty of thanksgiving, and always worried about not worshipping God sufficiently. Prophet Muhammad often implored God as follows: "Glory be to You. We have not been able to know You as Your knowledge requires, O Known One. Glory be to You. We have not been able to worship You as Your worship requires, O Worshipped One."

The Qur'anic verses that are sometimes understood—mistakenly—to reprimand certain Prophets for some faults or to show that they seek God's forgiveness for some sin, should be considered in this light. Besides, God's forgiveness does not always mean that a sin has been committed. The Qur'anic words 'afw (pardon) and maghfira (forgiveness) also signify a special favor and kindness, as well as Divine dispensation, in respect to lightening or overlooking a religious duty, as in the following verses: If any is forced (to eat of them) by hunger, with no inclination towards transgression, God is indeed Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful (5:3) and: If... you find no water, then take for yourselves clean sand or earth, and rub therewith your faces and hands. For God is All-Pardoning and Oft-Forgiving (4:43).

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deathandhumanresources · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2 - Administrative and Clerical

As the pages of my book filled, progress on “The Plan” reached a fever pitch. Father’s groundwork was impressive when it was only sketches and doodles but the first draft of all Creation turned out to be more wondrous than any of us could imagine. The Djinn’s constructs were massive in their execution and the Angel’s philosophical designs imbued every structural cell with Father’s purpose. Each day, I grew busier processing the requests for names from every Angel working in the “Living Things” department. As the work grew more complex, with weirder and more diverse ideas arriving for my designation every day, I became more confident in my abilities. Before long, news of my efficiency reached the Upper Angelarium, where the Archangels gathered.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?” I asked the Cherub called Ornias as he held his creation towards me. “This one seems like plagiarism to me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Ornias replied, though I couldn’t help but hear a chiding in his voice.

“I mean you stole this design from other Angels. I think I’ve seen this tail before. I’ve definitely seen this bill...”

“I may have taken inspiration from a few of my fellow spirits but this design is an original.” The fat Angel’s snorting face puckered into a look of disingenuous offense.

“It looks like you just mashed five other animals together!” I grabbed the design by its webbed flippers. The thing turned its duckish, rattish head towards me and stared with curiosity. I placed it on the ground where it scurried behind Ornias’ rounded form. I apprehensively asked, “Is this a joke?”

“A joke?” Ornias spat, “Does creation seem funny to you?” In truth, neither of us knew if Creation sounded funny because neither of us fully understood the concept yet.

“Is it mammal or bird?” I probed, attempting to refocus the conversation.

“Yes.” Ornias replied with so much indifference, that I wanted to reak wrath on the Angel’s stupid face.

“I’m truly at a loss, Ornias. Perhaps you have a suggestion?”

“Well, I was sort of thinking we could call it a,” he choked as if stifling a laugh, “a Platypus?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Alright, alright!” Ornias guffawed as he reached forward and clucked me on my back with his palm. “Look, I somehow got this one past the Approval Department and all I need is a name to make it official. Wouldn’t it be the best if this thing ended up crawling around with all the other animals?

“Well,” I considered, “I don’t know...” In truth, looking at the creature made me understand comedy a little bit more. And it was cute.

“What do you say, old pal?” Ornias thrust his right hand forward in a gesture that all Angels agreed meant “mutuality.”

“We’ve never met before today, Ornias.” I abstained from returning the gesture.

“Think about it.” The Cherub plucked his weird design up from the ground and turned to leave. As they flew away, the creature wriggled in Ornias’ grasp to look at me again. I smiled and it shook, startled, before burrowing into hiding in the Angel’s arms.

“Erm... next!” I called to my constantly growing queue. I had set up my operations in a vacant cubelike room of the lower Angelarium. When I found the room, it invoked a feeling as though I had meant to be there all along. Inside the cube was a chair for me to sit and a desk for me to place my book. From the room, I allowed one Angel at a time to enter and present their creation to name. As always, the Angels queued naturally and rarely made a fuss.

The next Angel in line entered at my call and I was surprised to see that it was a Principality. For those of you not well versed in Angelic Hierarchy, the Principalities are the assistants to the other Choirs of Angels. They deliver messages and perform tasks for Angels too busy to complete those tasks themselves. They are the delegates and were designed by Father to be pushed around without much fuss.

This Principality had hair as gold as wheat (a plant designed just days prior) and skin the color of olives (a plant that hadn’t been designed yet but one I’m referencing retroactively.) Her physique was rigid and she towered over the other Angels in the queue behind her. Her wings were so soft that they resembled clouds in the distance. Her expression was one of annoyance, brought on by having to wait in a queue when there were other tasks at hand.

“Hi there!” I greeted, somewhat fearfully. “I did not know Principalities were invited to create for ‘The Plan!’”

“I am Eremiel.” the Angel interjected, “I am not here on Creation business.”

“Ah.” I said “Well I am afraid that I am in the middle of naming every single living creature. Is there something I can help you with?”

Eremiel reached into a pouch slung around her bony shoulder. She produced a page of parchment that she began to hold out to me. Before I could take it, she snatched it back.

“Were you designed to be able to read?” She asked dryly.

“I have the gift of all languages.” I replied, confused, bemused, and anxious for what news Heaven had for me now.

“Good.” The Principality unceremoniously dropped the parchment on my desk. The page slid across the surface and landed in my lap.

“They’ll see you after you’ve finished your duties for the day.” Eremiel spoke with vexation as she left the room. On her way out she bumped the next Angel in line, an impossibly beautiful spirit with a crown of light and holding a round rodent with enormous ears. Before the offended Angel could protest, Eremiel’s eyes widened and she gave a look that clearly said “Get out of my way or you and the rat will be broken for all of eternity.” The beautiful Angel cowered and Eremiel launched off into the higher Angelarium.

I unravelled the parchment in my lap and read the message within:

TO AZRAEL, ANGEL OF NAMES

YOUR PRESENCE IS DEMANDED

TO DISCUSS IMPORTANT MATTERS

REGARDING YOUR FUNCTION AND PURPOSE

YOU ARE TO REPORT TO THE HALL OF THE ARCHANGELS

FOR JUDGMENT

AS SOON AS YOUR DUTIES FOR THE DAY ARE COMPLETE

BE PROMPT

SINCERELY,

GABRIEL, ARCHANGEL AND CHIEF MESSENGER

“Urp...” Was all I could say as I let the parchment roll up and sway back and forth on my desk. I felt my face go pale. I don’t know how long I sat, silent and staring, before I heard a meek “Ahem” beyond my doorway. It was the beautiful Angel and its creation.

“Oh, er, next!” I called.

The Hall of Archangels stood at the top of the third sphere of the Angelarium. My work was mostly clerical so I hung around the bottom of the third sphere. The upper sphere was for Archangels and Principalities. Beyond the third sphere was the second sphere. That place was the work area of the middle management Angels: the Powers, the Virtues, and the Dominions. Above the second sphere was the first sphere, the upper management sphere. The first sphere was where the Seraphim, the Cherubim, and the Thrones worked closely with Father on “The Plan’s” most important projects. Above the spheres sat Father’s throne, where he shined his radiance on all Angels below him.

I nervously clutched my parchment of invitation as I approached the entranceway to the Hall. The landing for the upper sphere was paved with bricks carved from a porous grey stone that felt soft under my feet. Rounded outcroppings of the stone jutted from the walkway in symmetrical pairs leading from the landing and into the upper sphere. Prototypes for the aforementioned flowers adorned the outcroppings in a manner I found aesthetically pleasing. A massive silver arch marked the entry to the halls. Great, angled runes were carved deeply into the arch, spelling in a now-forgotten language, “DILIGENCE, VIGILANCE, GLORY.”

The landing was bustling as Angels of all different Choirs launched and disembarked to and from the Heavens. Each spirit possessed a face of focused officiousness as they passed by and around each other on the walkway. Many of them held stacks of paperwork and they would bump gracelessly into one another, mumbling indifferent swears before rebalancing and continuing on. None of the Angels offered so much as a wayward glance at me as I shuffled uncomfortably towards the archway. I felt so out of place.

When I bypassed the arch and into the Hall, I looked above to see the walls and ceiling had been carved of the same soft, grey stone and painted with a mural. The art of the hallway depicted the Heavens, complete with all manner of Angel flying and smiling as they worked at the building blocks of Creation with hammers and chisels. A rendering of Father sat on his throne at the apex of the curved ceiling, his smile was the biggest. In his left hand, he held a sash decorated with the same runic font as the silver archway. The text read “PERFECTION.” In his right hand, he held a strange blue orb that I recognized as the initial design for “The Plan.” I did not notice it at the time, but the Djinn were not pictured in the mural at all.

I came to a series of turnstiles preceded by booths with Angels inside. I watched as visitors approached, spoke briefly with the booth Angels, and pressed past the turnstiles before resuming into the hallway. I puffed up my chest and attempted to imitate the zeal of the patrons around me. I approached a booth on the far end of the vestibule and stepped toward the turnstile.

“What’s your business?” the bored looking booth Angel asked blandly.

“Oh, er...” I fumbled with the roll of parchment at my side before passing it to the turnstile guardian.

“Mmm, yes.” He unrolled the note and studied it with nonchalance. I rocked from side to side on my heels for an awkward moment before he continued. “You are scheduled with Gabriel in the Western Atrium. Do you know where you’re going?”

“I’m afraid not.” I meeped.

“Oh.” The Angel curled his upper lip, “A tourist.” He hefted from his seat with a grunt of vexation and leaned over his booth towards me. He reached a slender arm past my neck in a manner meant to lead my gaze. “See the wisp of red cirrus cloud that stretches along the wall mural?” He did not wait for me to answer. “Follow that ‘round the rightmost corner and straight along until you reach the double doors labelled ‘Virtue and Punctuality.’ You’ll find the Chief Messenger’s office within.”

“Alright.” I murmured as I squinted towards the mural. I did not see red cirrus clouds. I turned back to the booth Angel to see he was regarding me with furrowed eyebrows.

“You can go along.” He chastised. With a nod of his head, he signalled to a line of equally annoyed Angels behind me.

“Oh.” I said and pressed at the turnstile. It did not move at first so I shuffled uncomfortably, trying and failing to look like I knew what I was doing. Finally, the arm loosened and I tumbled forward, almost falling to the floor. I pulled my wings around me in embarrassment and hustled into the reconvening crowd beyond the gate. I felt overwhelmed by the roaming crowd and was instinctively drawn to the wall and out of the way of the bustle. I inspected the mural for the wisp of red cloud described by the booth Angel. At first, I found no evidence of such cirrus and I felt a panic rise inside me. After a moment, I noticed a streak of cloud, more pink than red, cast behind the drama of the painting and across the cosmos. I followed the path around the corner into a straightaway that appeared to go on indefinitely. The hall had many pairs of doors across from each other on either side of the walkway. As I strolled passed, I couldn’t shake the curiosity to open one of these doors and look inside.

The red cirrus on the wall lifted onto the ceiling of the hallway and led to an extension of the main hall’s mural. The color pallet from the previous painting shifted to a radical use of greys and reds. The whisping cirrus fed into a large black stormcloud that loomed over the extension of the hallway. Vibrant flashes of lightning illuminated the backdrop of the scene and made many of the boisterous storm clouds look like violent cosmic explosions. When I stopped to admire a detailed expression of cloud, I noticed the painted silhouette of an armor-clad angel amongst the dramatics. Its outstretched wings matched the curvature of the stormy display behind it and it raised its arm high above its head. In its hand, it held a long, menacing sword that extended high into the heavens above it. A streak of blue lightning extended from a nebulous point in the storm to meet the Angel’s sword where it curled coyly toward the tip of the blade. I had not noticed before but the scene depicted in this hallway’s mural was populated with the silhouettes of many menacing Angels, each dressed in a similar armor and each held a long-tipped sword. My sense of wonder towards the illustration slowly became one of apprehension. I pulled my wings closer around me.

The bustle of busy spirits slowed and thinned out as I continued down the straightaway. I walked slowly, craning my head to either side to read the designations above each approaching doorway. “Virtue and Punctuality, Virtue and Punctuality,” I repeated to myself, trying my best not to forget what the rude booth Angel had told me. To my dismay, none of the doors on either side of the hall included either of those words. Many of the doors instead read similar titles, like “REGIMENT AND RULE” or “CLASSIFICATION AND CARTOGRAPHY.” As I wandered, I began to get a little confused. It wasn’t until I meandered to the set of double doors at the end of the hall before I realized I had reached my designation. As clear as day, the words “VIRTUE AND PUNCTUALITY” hung in a flowing gold font over the doors’ brick and mortar archway. I should have figured the Archangels would signify their meeting place in such a glorious manner.

I did my best to stifle my nervousness and pushed at the rightmost door. At first it did not open and, when I pressed a bit of my heft against it, there was a brief give before more resistance. I heard an “Oop!” from beyond the barrier. I leapt back, embarrassed. Apparently I was pressing the door into someone! There was a bit of murmuring behind the door before it opened inward. I gulped in shock when I saw who stood before me.

“Ah, Azrael!” exclaimed Lucifer, his mouth curled into an unfamiliar smile. “Right on time, I see! It always pays to be punctual for a meeting at Virtue and Punctuality.” His demeanor was glaringly contrary to how he spoke in our previous meeting. I found the change pleasant but disturbing at the same time.

“Er,” I croaked, “I did not realize you would be attending, Mister Lucifer.”

“Mister Lucifer!” He repeated with a laugh over his shoulder, presumably to whoever else was in the room behind him. “What did I tell you about this kid, Gabe?” He turned back toward me and stared with a strange admiration I had only seen before from Father. “No, I won’t be joining in on today’s meeting, but do know that the higher ups are aware of your progress. You’ve yet to disappoint, little Angel.”

A warmth erupted in my face. It felt like shame and pride all at once. I opened my mouth but I didn’t have anything to say.

“Lucifer,” a dry voice called from behind the Archangel, “If you’re going to praise the creature’s punctuality, at least let him in the door to be punctual.”

“Ah, of course!” The smiling Lucifer took a labored step back and held the door open for me to enter. As I inched my way in, he snuck his towering form around me and out into the hall. “Best regards, Azrael!” He said as he let the door close between us.

The room was not as grand as I had expected. The magnificent aesthetic of the main hall had not transferred to the Archangels’ chamber. Instead, the walls and ceiling were a clean, abstract white. A skylight cropped from the ceiling’s center, allowing Father’s light to shine on the room’s simple furnishings. Ahead of me was a rectangular slab of marble cloud. It hung motionless in the center of the room, illuminated by the light from above. Ten marble white chairs surrounded the slab and sat suspended in a similar fashion.

At the opposite end of the slab from me sat two radiant Archangels. The first I noticed was a giant of a spirit with earth-brown, craggy skin and locks of flowing silver hair. He wore the same night-black robes that I had recognized on Lucifer but the mass of his chest and arms were bulging at the seams. His enormous hands were clasped together and resting on the slab, his fingers were dressed in several thick, golden rings. His eyes were the shocking blue of a lightning flash and his nose and lips were wide on his muscular face. He looked at me, wordlessly, with an expression barren of emotion.

The Archangel to his right was slender, petite in comparison, but something about her presence was far more threatening. She too wore the black Archangel’s robes, though the cuffs and collar were decorated with an elaborate, gilded pattern. Her amber hair poured from the top of her head in short waves that flowed down to her neck. Her face was narrow, almost gaunt. Her sharp chin pointed downward and her colorless lips were pursed. A needling nose drew a line from those pursed lips up to eyes blacker than a tempest.

“You may have a seat.” The smaller Archangel called and extended a welcoming hand toward the floating seat closest to me. Her voice was curt and intimidating, it lacked the song that hung in many other Angels’ voices.

“I do apologize for the short notice.” She continued as I approached my chair and sat down. “With Creation rapidly approaching, we have been encouraged to expedite certain processes.”

“No trouble at all!” I cried out, perhaps a little too loud, across the table. “In truth, I didn’t realize ‘The Plan’ was coming together so quickly. That’s good news!” I smiled. When the gesture was not returned, I said, “Isn’t it?”

“Hm.” The slender Archangel replied noncommittally. She raised her hand to her face and rubbed at her cheekbone with her finger. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited Archangel Uriel to this briefing. He will be sitting in on the interview process.” With her other hand, she offered an introductory gesture to the large Archangel to her left.

“Thank you, Gabriel.” Uriel’s craggy lips lifted into a welcoming smile and he unclasped his hands to place them both face down on the slab. “I wasn’t supposed to attend this meeting but, after hearing everything, I wanted to put a face to the name!”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “Gabriel, was it?” My eyes met the slender Archangel’s and she gave a slight, acknowledging nod. “What is this about an interview process? I’m afraid I don’t know why I was summoned today.”

Gabriel’s gaze shifted to meet Uriel’s for a moment before returning to me. “Your summons,” she said wryly, “explained that we were to discuss your function and purpose.”

“Now, now!” Uriel laughed in a thunderous tone that shook the room. “Like you said, Gabriel, things are happening so quickly these days. I get the feeling little Azrael here hasn’t been brought to speed with the recent influx of,” he paused as he searched for the right word, “adjustments being made to ‘The Plan.’” With each passing word that passed through Uriel’s lips, I preferred him more and more to Gabriel.

“Adjustments?” I repeated.

“He is little, isn’t he.” Gabriel sequitured and clicked her tongue, her voice permeated with venom.

“You must forgive Gabriel.” Uriel’s grin widened. “She is an auditor, after all. Father designed her to look for incorrections throughout the process. I imagine you’re more used to the friendliness of the Angels in the lower circle.”

“Ah, sure.” I lied. If spirits in the lower Angelarium were ever friendly, it was an event I had certainly never witnessed first hand.

“We’re not here to discuss my function, Uriel.” Gabriel reached below the chair and slammed a weighty book upon the slab’s surface. It was the second book I had ever seen, after my own. “This is about your progress, Azrael.”

“Oh.” I gulped. “I figured there were no discretions. I thought the naming process was coming along quite, er, nicely.” I hung my head and cursed in my mind whomever had complained about my process. I could only imagine it was that pedantic Qaspiel, still angry with his Jellyfish. Or maybe it was Ornias pulling a cruel prank, like his Platypus.

“Indeed.” Gabriel murmured as she flipped through an innumerable amount of pages in her book. “Yes, we’ve received word from Father and confirmation from Lucifer that you are, in fact, exceeding expectations.” Despite the commendation, her voice produced no kindness in its tone.

“Oh.” I said again. “Then, er, what’s the problem?”

“Problem?” Uriel laughed. “Azrael, your work is splendid! Before you came along, most Angels were designating approved creations with a complicated number system. It was getting ridiculous! And don’t get me started on trying to talk identification with the Djinn! They ID everything based on chemical composition! Gabriel,” he turned, “remember when Fuqtus gummed up the ledger for WEEKS because he referred to seagulls in his notes by the number of carbon atoms in their feathers?”

“Mmhmm.” Gabriel vaguely confirmed as she continued surveying her notes.

“Then Father comes along and says he’s tasked an Angel with giving every living thing a name! ‘A name!?’ I said, ‘How’s that going to help anything?’” Uriel turned back toward me. “But then you come along, you take a look at the seagull, you call it a seagull. It’s like that’s what it was supposed to be called this whole time! I mean, come on, it’s a gull that flies over the sea!”

“Quite.” Gabriel snapped her book closed. “What Uriel is trying to get at is that there has been a highly irregular decision made on your behalf.”

“Highly irregular?” I felt foolish repeating everything the Archangels offered but I was so nervous, my higher cognitive function had ceased.

“A promotion.” She asserted.

“A promotion!?”

“Will you stop that!”

“Azrael,” Uriel offered, “we would like to advance you to the role of Principality. Specifically we, the Archangels, need a note taker for our meetings. We figure that no one, so far, has taken detailed notes like yours. Of course, this will start after you’re done assigning your names but, by our projections, we should be finished up with creating new creatures here by the end of the week. So,” he puffed up his chest and lifted himself from his chair, “What do you say?”

I didn’t know what to say.

#fictionmetaphyicsangelsdemonsmagicmagickoccultmy writingwritingdeathgrim reaperreadthisfantasyhumorwitchcrafthorrorreligion

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tricksterreformed-a · 4 years ago

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@downwillow sent : [ God for kiddo Gabe] *Encircles their precious messenger with their holy grace affectionately. Proud papa. *

The blessing is that it’s all he has ever wanted. The approval and the comfort and the affirmation of worth. And Gabriel knows that if he opens his mouth now he will ruin it. He is the messenger and a good messenger keeps his lips locked and pretty when not delivering The Word. A good messenger is an empty vessel waiting for words.

The tragedy is that Gabriel has thoughts and opinions and a mind that’s always spinning. A brain between two ears (even when he doesn’t have literal ears) that does more than just store and regurgitate the messages he’s been fed. He is his own words. And he knows he’s not supposed to be.

So the archangel stays quiet, stays as still as he can manage, and lets the moment be nice. An embrace and not a cage. And it is nice. And it is a blessing. And it is temporary.

#downwillow #q; reply

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years ago

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Proving You Wrong

Prompt: “I just like proving you wrong.”

Word Count: 967

Summary: Card games with an archangel are always an adventure.

Warnings: Swearing (they’re playing a card game called Bullshit, so...it’s mostly that), fluff, Gabriel being very forward

A/N: Hey folks!

This prompt is for @idabbleincrazy‘s one year blogiversary challenge! Congratulations on the milestone, hon!

It’s finals week, so, there’s no real plot, just...fluff and shenanigans and that’s about it. XD

Please leave a like/comment and let me know your thoughts!

Enjoy!

~ Phantom

---------------

"That isn't physically possible, Gabriel." You narrow your eyes at the archangel, your leg bouncing anxiously beneath table.

"Are you really willing to make that bet, sugar?" The upward twitch to the corner of his mouth is almost distracting as you study his features.

He's thousands of years old, he's perfected his poker face and given the size of the pile of cards in the center of the table, you're not willing to risk it.

"Fine, I'll accept it. Two queens." You toss the cards down.

"Hold up, there's no way--"

"Dean, don't." You level a stern look on the eldest Winchester and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, I won't call it."

"But I will." Gabriel interjects, leaning forward.

"Not allowed, remember? Angels can't call bullshit." You smirk smugly.

"Since when?" Gabriel frowns.

"Since the start of the game, were you even listening?" Dean glances towards the archangel.

"I rarely listen when you speak, Dean-O. It's always broody and...you."

"The hell does that mean?" Dean glares at him, turning in his chair slightly.

"No fighting. Sam, lay your kings."

"I wanted to call your bluff!" Gabriel turns his attention back to you.

"Tough luck, feathers." You grin smugly.

Sam starts to lay his cards when Gabriel holds up his hand, "Samsquatch, call her bluff."

"What? No."

"She's bluffing. Those weren't three queens!"

"You're right. It was two." You grin at the archangel beside you.

"Don't," he holds up a finger at you before he turns back to Sam, "Call it!"

"I am not risking you being wrong." Sam returns shortly.

"Have I ever been wrong about Y/N bluffing?"

"Yes."

Gabriel huffs, leaning back in his seat, "Fine. Lay your damn kings."

"One king."

"One ace." Castiel lays the card down deliberately.

"Okay, now I know that's a lie. Bullshit, Cas." You smirk, glancing at the angel before you turn the card over, revealing a ten.

"Oh, all of those cards are yours now, Cas." Dean chuckles, leaning back in his seat.

"Now that isn't fair. You can call our bluff but we can't call yours." Gabriel protests.

"We can't read minds, you angels can. So, it's definitely fair." You stick your tongue out at the archangel.

"That tongue belongs in your mouth or in mine, not out in the open." Gabriel returns smugly, a satisfied smirk spreading across his lips at the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Shut up." You manage after a moment, "Your turn."

"One two." He tosses the card down, whiskey locking on y/e/c beside him.

"One three." Your gaze drops to the table, ignoring the amused expressions across from you.

"Two fours." Dean drops the cards down before he takes a sip of his beer.

"Three fives."

"Bull...shit?" Castiel glances towards Sam, blue flickering to you for approval.

"Angels can't call--"

"He has half the deck, Sam." Dean points out.

"That's still not fair, if Cas can call it, why couldn't Gabriel for Y/N?"

"The man has a point." Gabriel smirks at you.

"Fine, angels can call bullshit. No powers, understood?" You glance between the angels.

"Scout's honor." Gabriel returns.

"Does that even work? You were never a Cub Scout." Dean frowns slightly.

"Just roll with it, Dean-O."

"All right. Sammy, pick up the cards."

Sam waves his brother off as he adds the cards to his deck.

"Cas."

"Four sixes." Castiel lays the cards down, sifting through the massive deck in his hand.

"Two sevens." Gabriel adds the cards to the pile.

"Bullshit!" You smirk up at him.

He gestures to the two cards, inviting you to look.

Your confidence falters as you turn over the two sevens, "Son of a bitch. How?" You look up at him with a glare as you add all six cards to your deck.

"I just like proving you wrong." He grins, slinging an arm across the back of your chair.

You wrinkle your nose at him, but turn back to your cards.

"To be fair, you probably should have chosen another number other than seven to challenge me on. I am the Trickster and seven is a lucky number."

"Shove it, feathers." You return shortly, tossing a single eight into the center of the table.

"Oh, don't pout, sugar."

You ignore how close he is, keeping your eyes trained on the table as his fingers ghost across your back. There's a gentle current dancing along your spine just beneath your flannel, a cool whisper across warm flesh. You suppress the shudder, daring to steal a glance towards the archangel whose very much invested in his cards, trying, yet failing, to look innocent.

At some point, it's back to Gabriel and he hesitates, drumming his fingers on the wood and the cool whisper of his grace dissipates from your skin.

"Out of smug remarks?" Dean smirks.

"No one asked you, Dean-O."

"Lay the card, Gabriel."

Gabriel drops the card and Castiel looks at his brother, starting to speak before you jump in, "Bullshit." You flip the card, a proud smile spreading across your lips when it's revealed to be an ace and not a queen.

"Yeah, yeah, it was bound to happen."

You nudge him playfully, "Good try, feathers."

He nods, feigning annoyance as he picks up the cards. He winks at Castiel, a gesture of thanks as he reorganizes his hand. The archangel's frame visibly relaxes when you smile up at him and toss down a king.

He shifts the queen to the back of his hand as a small smile spread across his lips. He might've just cost himself the game, but it's a price he's willing to pay to keep the warm smile playing at the corner of your lips for the rest of the game.

At least until he wants to prove you wrong again.

--------------

Wanna be here? Send me an ask/message to be added!

Tagging:

Gabe Squad: @thewhiterabbit42 @erisunderthemoon @stuckoutsideofthebox @nuvoleincielo @lyselkatz @high-church-of-the-holy-dick @fandomaniac

Forevers: @heaven-hell-imagines @a-mess-of-many-fandoms @currentlyfangirling99 @bofa-deans-nuts @emiwrites3reads

#gabriel spn #gabriel x reader #gabriel #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #phantom writes #dabbles1stblogiversary

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balloonstand · 5 years ago

Text

[Aziraphale/Crowley 2.5k]

Crowley has never been restrained before. Physically, that is. Handcuffs, ropes, chains- nothing like that. He wasn’t made to be contained. Not until this moment, in Heaven of all places. In Aziraphale’s body of all things.

He is tied to a chair in Heaven facing a tribunal of angels. He is tied to a chair. He could almost laugh at it, but he is much, much closer to thrashing around in the chair and pulling at the ropes until they snap. But he keeps Aziraphale’s body as still as he can and his face as neutral as possible.

They had discussed the night before how carefully they must play their roles. Aziraphale had said, “If we don’t do this right- if we’re not convincing beyond a shadow of a doubt, it will all be for nothing.” In between his words he was saying, “If you aren’t convincing, I’m going to be tried as a traitor and killed for going along with your plan to save the world.” Well, maybe that wasn’t what he was saying. It doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he would say. But it’s the kind of thing that Crowley hears, and it’s how he chose to interpret it and what he is thinking about now.

Earlier that morning, he had dressed himself in Aziraphale’s clothing. First, he’d had to take the clothes off of Aziraphale’s body. One layer at a time. The jacket. He had draped it over the back of a chair because Aziraphale had kept it in tip-top condition for more than 180 years and Crowley understood what that meant. The tartan bowtie he had dropped on the floor. Aziraphale had bared his teeth at that, practicing what it would be like to be Crowley. It made Crowley shiver. He paused- thought about picking up the bowtie, but didn’t. Then, he took off Aziraphale’s vest and pocket watch.

“So many layers,” he had murmured. “Too many.” Aziraphale had just tilted his head at Crowley. He lifted his arms away from his body slightly so that Crowley could pull the vest off of him. It also landed on the floor.

He had undone the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt out of order. The night before, he had undone done exactly like that out of urgency, his own and Aziraphale’s. That morning, he had done it deliberately. The shirt was warm to the touch and he had wanted to put it on right away and soak up that warmth like the sunshine. He put the shirt on the chair with the jacket.

Aziraphale had undone his own belt, pulled his own pants off of himself. He had folded them before holding them out to Crowley. He’d had a little smile on his face.

Crowley had dressed himself like a rewind of undressing Aziraphale. Pants. Shirt. Vest, pocket watch. Damned bowtie. Jacket. And Aziraphale had helped him. He did up Crowley’s buttons and adjusted the bowtie. He straightened the jacket. He had given him a thorough once-over and nodded his approval. He had looked slyly at Crowley and said in a happy voice, “There. You’re an angel.”

Crowley had always thought that Aziraphale brought him as close to redemption as he might ever hope for. It hadn’t been the right moment, but when Aziraphale had said I forgive you, Crowley had thought that he might on the spot shed his demonic status like a skin. It had felt so good that it had hurt. And it isn’t just that; Aziraphale effortlessly exudes grace. Like a dog sheds its hair, Aziraphale exudes grace. And Crowley has trailed after him for six thousand years like a duckling after crumbs. Aziraphale sheltered him from the first rain with his wing, and Crowley has been following him ever since, with his hands outstretched.

But bringing him all the way back into Heaven itself- even Crowley hadn’t thought it would be possible for Aziraphale to bring him back here. He had never imagined he would see it again. Heaven is just the same as it was; he wouldn’t expect any different. Throughout the years, Aziraphale would sometimes mention Heaven in passing after a visit there or when he missed something about it. Crowley would squirrel these tidbits away to examine later. He’d lay all these stolen details out in his mind and compare them to his crystalline memories of Heaven, before he had Fallen. It had always seemed about the same, which disappointed him mildly. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe he just liked the idea that his exile had affected Heaven even in some tiny, almost imperceptible way. But being here now, he sees that it hasn’t. Heaven is eternal, with or without Crowley. It’s exactly the way he remembers it.

The ropes around his wrists are the only surprising part of it. They are foreign to him as a part of Heaven and as a reality in his life. Hell, for all that it does, does not waste time with true restraints. He knows that even now as Aziraphale wears his body to his trial where he will be found guilty of betraying all the kingdoms and denizens of Hell, he will not be tied to a chair. There’s a certain honor about it. A freedom that Crowley hadn’t really noticed. Maybe this chair is a mistake. Heaven is supposed to be better than this.

So yeah, maybe he has thought about it. What it might be like to come back to Heaven as an angel. Not seriously, of course, but sometimes he thinks about it fleetingly, like when Hastur is being- well, himself. Or when Aziraphale is being a little too holier-than-thou. Or when the wind blows or the sun is setting or he’s tired. Every moment that he’s still Fallen. He doesn’t miss it. He certainly doesn’t want to return to the fold. He just thinks about it.

But the Heaven that he thinks about is the one that is welcoming. One that smiles at him when it sees that he is back. Maybe he has only been around one angel for too long, and he can only think of his angel when he tries to think of Heaven. A heaven that is Heaven like Aziraphale is an angel would never tie Crowley to a chair. Crowley doesn’t like being tied to a chair. He very much does not like it. His wrists were not made for ropes. He was not made to be contained in any way.

And then it hits him. Well, then it smothers him in a wave of fury that he has to struggle to keep off of his face. He’s been thinking about this wrong; these ropes aren’t tied around his wrists at all. He isn’t bound to a chair. The principality Aziraphale, angel of the Lord, is tied to this chair. Crowley’s Aziraphale. He could ignite with all this rage. He could turn into flame and burn the ropes away, burn the angels into annihilation, bring Heaven itself down in fire.

He doesn’t do it. He is restrained here. He focuses. He forces a small smile as the archangel begins to speak to him. Gabriel’s words are like the ropes too.

“Ah, Aziraphale,” Gabriel is saying. Crowley doesn’t like hearing Aziraphale’s name said like that, like a disappointment. How has Aziraphale put up with this for all these years, Crowley wonders. “So glad you could join us.”

Join us, that’s rich. Aziraphale would smile here, so Crowley tries to muster one. “You could’ve just sent a message. I mean, a kidnapping. In broad daylight.” He keeps his tone light but his words can’t really be softened.

“Call it what it was: an extraordinary rendition.” This time it is almost impossible to give Aziraphale’s responding smile. “Now, have we heard from our new associate?” Gabriel asks.

Behind him Uriel says, “He’s on his way.”

Gabriel acts delighted. “He’s on his way. I think you’re going to like this. I really do. And,” he says, bending down to be eye-to-eye with Crowley, his false delight slipping and the real malice beneath it showing through, “I bet you didn’t see this one coming.”

Crowley tries to focus, but his mind is tangled in a messy line of thought as he tries to understand these chains that he hadn’t known had been weighing his angel down. Being damned brings with it a certain measure of latitude that Crowley has never thought to appreciate. Hell knows it can’t really control him; apparently Heaven still thinks it can control its angels. So this is what his angel has been dealing with. Every time he has gotten that downtrodden look on his face as he explained that Gabriel sent him an irritated note, this is the voice he heard. This voice that says you are nothing even when the words he speaks are different.

There is a freedom that comes with being Fallen, one that Crowley is still working his mind around. He has never thought his superiors were better than him. He has never cared what they thought of him beyond what mattered to his survival. Other demons don’t matter to him.

Then – speak of the devil, Crowley thinks sardonically – another demon walks in. Heaven is just lousy with demons, isn’t it? What is the neighborhood coming to?

“You don’t get this view down in the basement.” This is a demon who was not an angel once. He has never seen this view before. Crowley doesn’t look at him. He knows what he is here to do.

He keeps his eyes on the pyre as the demon lights it, following the pillar of flame up and up and out of sight. By the time he looks back down at the rest of them, the demon is gone and Gabriel is talking again. Crowley tries to listen like Aziraphale.

“So. With one act of treason, you averted the war.”

Crowley says as Aziraphale, “Well, I think the greater good-“

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel. The greater good is we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all.”

Crowley knows that his smile is too angry to be believable. He can’t help it. Aziraphale has given six thousand years to the greater good. And the only opposition that Crowley can see is the archangel fucking Gabriel who has never thought once about the greater good, or perhaps any good at all. Only the Great Plan.

Uriel steps forward and unbinds him. “Up.”

Crowley stands. For a wild moment, he believes in Heaven again and thinks that Uriel is freeing him. Or at least giving him a chance to defend himself as he stands on his own feet.

Bolstered by this hope, Crowley says, “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to reconsider? We’re meant to be the good guys, for Heaven’s sake.” It doesn’t hurt his mouth to say Heaven’s sake this time.

Gabriel’s expression hardens. “Well, for Heaven’s sake, we are meant to make examples out of traitors. So,” he gestures at the fire, “into the flame.”

Crowley feels cold in the shadow of the Hellfire. The hope that had barely begun to flutter in him is stomped out. There’s nothing left in Heaven for him or for Aziraphale. And he had known that before. He’s almost certain that Aziraphale knows it too. They’ve both made that choice now. But, for a moment, there had been hope and now it is gone and there is only the nuclear shadow of it on his heart. Crowley promises himself that he will be patient with Aziraphale, gentle with his last bit of hope for Heaven.

The angels are looking impassively at him. Crowley approaches the column of flame reluctantly. It’s not that it might hurt him; he knows it won’t. For all that he’s wearing Aziraphale’s form and feeling Aziraphale’s hopes, he is a demon without any illusions of holiness. And yet. He’s inches away from the flames and it feels like Falling. And this time he’s even a good angel.

Doesn’t matter. He has chosen his side.

He thinks about Aziraphale and gives them all a real smile, his first since coming to Heaven. “Well. Lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.”

Gabriel says, “Shut your stupid mouth and die already.” His smile is as fake as any that Crowley has given him.

He and Aziraphale, they’re too good for this. That’s all that Crowley can think. He steps into the fire to show them.

He is ensconced in flame. It’s rather nice in there. Crowley imagines that this feels the way that laying out on a hot day feels to humans. He basks in it. He rolls his head on his shoulders stretching his neck and settling back into himself. Despite his body, he’s all Crowley now, no need to play as Aziraphale. He opens his mouth and breathes out his rage as flames.

The angels are recoiling from him. He smiles at them the way he would in his own body. Good, he thinks. He has done what he needs to do here. Now, he can do what he wants to do here.

Heaven can never have Aziraphale again. He’s Crowley’s now. Crowley’s responsibility, his privilege, his life. He thinks about the ropes they had used on him. Crowley has freed Aziraphale from bondage before. He had miracled the wrist irons off of Aziraphale in the Bastille. He had sprung him from the first police station in Edinburg in 1853 after a misunderstanding concerning a farm cart and a carriage. Even his damn clothes – all those oppressive layers – Crowley had taken those off of him too.

And that’s the pit in the peach. The center of it all, the seed. It’s been six thousand years of have I shown you what you showed me the first day we met? Have I made you feel like that? Here, I’ll do that miracle for you, it’s on me. Here, I don’t want you to embarrass yourself. Here, can I give you a lift home? Here, just a little demonic miracle of my own, have your books. He’s piling it around Aziraphale like offerings at an ancient temple. Aziraphale is the oldest religion in the world and Crowley is the first worshipper in the history of Creation. To give this much to Aziraphale feels like grace; to get it back from him as well, is something new to the universe.

#good omens #ineffable husbands

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basicsofislam · 5 years ago

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ISLAM 101: THE HOLY QUR’AN: Part 16

How was the Revelation conveyed to the Prophet?

The Revelation was delivered to Prophet Muhammad in the following ways:

The commencement of Revelation to the Prophet took the form of reliable dreams ( ru’ya al-sadiqa).

Whatever he dreamed happened the following day, in exactly the same way that he had dreamed.

Coming in the form of a human being, Archangel Gabriel conveyed the Revelation to the Prophet.

Archangel Gabriel approached the Prophet in his own angelic form and thus delivered the Revelation to him.

It was reported that such Revelation happened only two times;

first, during the first stage of the Revelation and

second, in the cave of Hira, following a period of temporary cessation of Revelation.

Without appearing to the Prophet, the angel put the Revelation straight into the Prophet’s heart when he was awake.

Archangel Gabriel conveyed the Revelation to the Prophet during his sleep.

Sometimes, the Qur’an was revealed like the ringing of a bell.

This form of Revelation was most severe for the Prophet. When this state of Revelation passed the Prophet had memorized what had been revealed.

Delivery of the Revelation to the Prophet when he was awake, directly by God Almighty Himself.

It was reported that such Revelation was delivered to the Prophet during the Mi’raj – the Prophet’s night journey from Mecca to Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem and his ascension from there to Heaven.

Is there any Revelation other than The Qur’an?

The Revelation is not only the Qur’an; Prophet Muhammad received Revelation in addition to the Qur’an. God’s Messenger said,

“Beware, I have been given the Qur’an and its like together with it.”

This is clear proof of the fact that God’s Messenger received the Revelation from God in addition to what is contained in the Qur’an, and he acted according to it. What is meant by the “like of the Qur’an” in the hadith is the Sunna, or practices of the Prophet. This clearly shows that God’s Messenger was given Revelation in addition to the Qur’an which was not recited to him as the Qur’an. Thus, in the same way that the Qur’an is a Revelation sent to the Prophet, the Sunna was also revealed to him. The only difference is that while the Qur’an was revealed in recited ( matlu) form, the Sunna was the non-recited Revelation ( wahy al-ghayri matlu). This is why it is obligatory to imitate and follow the example of the Prophet when performing acts of worship, like the daily prayers and the pilgrimage to Mecca, which have not been explained in detail in the Qur’an. Therefore, it is necessary to depend upon the Sunna in order to understand the Book and to practice it in daily life correctly and completely as God Almighty commands in the Qur’an:

“And We have not sent down the Book on you except that you (O Muhammad) may explain to them all (the questions of faith and law) on which they differ, and as guidance and mercy for people who will believe and who have already believed” (Nahl 16:64).

It is the Prophet’s mission to present and also represent the religion in its pristine purity and truth. The Sunna, which is a combination of the sayings, actions and tacit approval of the Prophet, is sanctioned by God and relies on the guidance of Divine Revelation. Thus, if we look for information on a particular subject in the Qur’an but are unable to find it, we then have to refer to the Prophet’s practices, or his Sunna, which is a commentary and explanation of the Qur’an. Pertaining to this subject, the Prophet once asked Muadh ibn Jabal, whom he was sent as an envoy to Yemen: “‘With what will you rule?’ ‘With God’s Book’ Muadh replied. ‘What if you cannot find the ruling in the Qur’an?’ the Prophet asked. ‘Then with the Sunna of God’s Messenger’ Muadh replied. ‘What if you cannot find it there either?’ asked the Prophet. ‘Then I would rule with my own opinion (with my own understanding and interpretation)’ Muadh finally replied. Upon this response, the Prophet put his hand over Muadh’s chest and said, ‘All praise be to God for He has rendered the envoy of God’s Messenger successful and guided him to that which pleases God’s Messenger.’”

In particular, the Prophet warned those people who follow only the Qur’an and who reject his Sunna with the following words:

“Let me not find one of you reclining on his couch when he hears something that I have commanded or forbidden, saying: ‘We don’t know (any such a thing as Sunna. God’s Book is at our disposal.) We follow what we find in God’s Book.’

There are many Qur’anic verses that act as evidence that Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, received Revelation from God in addition to the Qur’an. The following two verses, for instance, are of this type:

“… Whatever the Messenger gives you accept it willingly, and whatever he forbids you, refrain from it. Keep from disobedience to God in reverence for Him and piety. Surely God is severe in retribution” (Hashr 59:7) and

“… And on you (O Muhammad) We have sent down the Reminder so that you may make clear to humankind whatever is sent down to them, and that they may reflect” (Nahl 16:44).

All the above-mentioned factors clearly indicate that the Revelation which was sent to God’s Messenger was not only composed of what is found in the Qur’an, but includes non-recited Revelation in Sunna form. As a matter of fact, it is not possible for us to know or understand completely the various aspects of the religion without referring to the practices of the Prophet.

What does Revelation ( wahy) mean?

The Arabic word wahy literally means to communicate secretly, to the decree, to reveal, indicate, to inspire, speak through inspiration or revelation, to suggest, to make signs, to call, to whisper, to write, to hasten.

As a term, wahy means God’s communication of His Messages to His Prophets in a special way, the exact nature of which we cannot know.

The term wahy is used in the Qur’an in both its specific and general senses. In its specific sense, wahy is God’s Revelation to the Prophets and, in its general sense, it is God’s assigning all existing things with their forms and functions, as the sole Creator, and guiding them to the fulfillment of the aim and purpose of their existence.

We may describe revelation, or wahy, in its specific sense as God’s conveyance of His guidance and commandments to His Prophets, who were chosen from among all human beings.

As for the means of the Revelation, the word passes from God to the human being in one of the following three ways:

By way of revelation through the inspiration of the heart or dreams during sleep. God Almighty sent His message to the mother of Prophet Moses by inspiration and Prophet Abraham was inspired with the sacrifice of his son through a dream.

Another kind of revelation is when God spoke to a Prophet from behind a veil without the mediation of an angel. Prophet Moses was addressed in this way for instance.

God’s third way of communicating with human beings is that He sends an angel to convey His Revelation to a Prophet.

Revelation is evidence for the prophethood of not only Prophet Muhammad, but for all the Prophets.

To each and every Prophet the Almighty Creator revealed:

We have revealed to you (O Messenger) as We revealed to Noah and the Prophets after him; and We revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob and the Prophets who were raised in the tribes, and Jesus, Job, Jonah, Aaron, and Solomon; and We gave David the Psalms. And Messengers We have already told you of (with respect to their mission) before, and Messengers We have not told you of, and God spoke to Moses in a particular way. (Nisa 4:163–164)

The clearest difference between the Prophets and other human beings lies in the divine reality of Revelation.

Why was the Qur’an revealed to Prophet Muhammad but not to people who were better-known or better-off?

Prophethood is not a quality that can be gained or acquired with effort; rather all Prophets were divinely appointed.

If God appointed a person as Prophet, that person was a Prophet even if the people did not believe in him or refused to obey him. Indeed, unbelievers made objections and protests to every Prophet for various reasons.

Prophet Muhammad, (peace and blessings be upon him), too was subjected to such treatment and the question

“Why was prophethood given to him but not to others?”

was asked. The polytheists asked to be given the like of what God’s Messenger had been given, as they wanted to be followed instead of being the followers and to be served instead of being the servants.

God Almighty responded to what the nonbelievers wrongly claimed as follows:

“When a Revelation is conveyed to them, they say: ‘We will not believe unless we are given the like of what God’s Messengers were given.’ God knows best upon whom to place His Message. Soon will an abasement from God’s Presence befall these criminals and severe punishment for their scheming” (An’am 6:124).

It was reported that this verse was revealed to the Prophet when Abu Jahl said:

“We will neither obey him nor be contented with him unless revelation is sent down to us as it has been sent down to him”

and when the polytheist Meccan chieftain, Walid ibn Mughira, said to the Prophet:

“If there were such thing as ‘prophethood,’ I would be more deserving of it than you, as I am older and richer than you.”

According to the Meccan polytheists, prophethood should only have been given to those who ad wealth, position and posts in Mecca or in Taif, the major cities of the region. According to their standards of importance, the Meccans did not perceive the Prophet as being equal to them in wealth or status and they, therefore, claimed that the Revelation should not have been sent to him.

As such reasoning is fundamentally wrong, God warned those who were, with their false and baseless reasoning, trying to direct the Divine Revelation and trying to nominate persons for such a mission on God’s behalf:

They also say: “If only this Qur’an had been sent down on a man of the leading position of the two (chief) cities!” Is it they who distribute the mercy of your Lord (so that they may appoint whom they wish as Messenger to receive the Book)? (Moreover, how do they presume to value some above others only because of their wealth or status, when) it is also We Who distribute their means of livelihood among them in the life of this world, and raise some of them above others in degree, so that they may avail themselves of one another’s help? But your Lord’s mercy (in particular Prophethood) is better than what they amass (in this life). (Zukhruf 43:31-32)

So, prophethood is a matter that belongs to God; He appoints whomever He deems fit to this mission. While granting the Prophet the mission of Prophethood, God did not consult anybody about this matter. Nor did the Prophet receive this mission due to his hard work or because of any worldly possessions. God conferred a great favor on Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him when He granted him this mission of prophethood.

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thetricksterwithwings · 6 years ago

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prompt #18 with sabriel please? i love your work ❤

‘Aw c’mon Sam, it’ll be fun, it’s just a few pranks!’ Gabriel pleaded, clasping his hands together in a mockery of prayer, which Sam found ironic and quite funny coming from an actual angel.‘This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.’ He paused for effect, Gabriel’s best puppy dog eyes boring into him. ‘Of course, I’m in.’ Sam grinned down at him as he whooped in delight.Sam laughed at his reaction, shaking his head slightly. It was good to see him happy again.‘Just be warned that Dean gets pretty relentless during prank wars, one time he put Nair in my shampoo bottle.’ Gabriel gaped at him.‘Bet you were pretty pissed about that, Rapunzel.’ He snickered as Sam glared at him, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘Are you, or are you not obsessed with those luscious locks of yours?’ When the glaring only strengthened Gabriel dissolved into laughter, leaving Sam sighing. When he recovered from his laughing fit his face lit up with a memory.‘Hey, actually, if I’m remembering correctly, Cas pulled something like that on me back in heaven. He was only a fledgling at the time, but he covered all my combs with bleach and then offered to help me groom my wings. You can imagine what came next.’ It was Sam’s turn to gape then, as he stared at Gabriel’s back where his wings would be and tried to imagine them spotted with big patches of white.‘You must have looked ridiculous, like an angel mixed with a cow.’ Gabriel tilted his head at him in question. ‘My wings aren’t black Sam if that’s what you’re implying. That’s just the shadows of them that your tiny human mind can comprehend. Nice try though.’ If Sam didn’t know better he’d say the archangel looked offended. ‘Nice try at what?’ Sam was confused.‘Insulting me? Not gonna work. Anyway, where’s your sense of team spirit? It’s supposed to be me and you versus them, but with all this friendly fire I’m starting to doubt our alliance.’ Gabriel pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. Sam laughed at him easily and shrugged off his pouty demeanor. ‘It’s not ‘friendly fire’ Gabe, I wasn’t trying to insult you. I had no idea angels were so sensitive about their wings.’ He poked him playfully on the shoulder to emphasize that he was still joking and pulled out the chair next to him.‘Now let’s get down to business and prank our stupid brothers.’ Gabriel stuck out his tongue at him and straightened his arms.‘Alright but next time you step outta line I’ll be the one putting depilatory cream in your shampoo bottle, kid.’ Sam snorted at him. ‘Message received! Now, can we get to planning?’Gabriel nodded. ‘So how do you wanna get Dean back for his attack on your precious hair? Super Glue on bottle labels is out and if you key the Impala he’ll likely murder you so let’s aim for a middle ground between those two.’‘Well actually, drawing inspiration from Cas’ prank, I was thinking that instead of Nair I could put bleach in a shampoo bottle.’‘Does Dean-O even use shampoo? I would’ve thought he washed his hair in a river and dried it with animal pelts like a True Man™.’ Sam laughed at the image and shook his head. ‘Did you have to say the trademark bit out loud?’ Gabriel nodded proudly. ‘And while usually, I would agree with that assessment of my brother, I know for a fact that he steals my hair stuff.’‘Well then, prank number one: turn Dean Winchester into a bottle blonde, is officially in action.’ Gabriel stood up.‘What about Cas?’ Sam asked, pushing out his chair from the table and standing too.‘I’ll need a bit of time to think of a comeback for my little brother, but he’ll get what’s coming to him, you rest assured. But for now, I think we’ll both enjoy the look on Dean’s face when he walks out of the shower looking like Britney Spears.’Sam nodded his agreement. ‘Good point. Seeing as we don’t exactly stock the kind of bleach that’s skin-safe, I’m gonna head to the store to get some, you need anything?’‘Honestly? What I need right now is to get out of the bunker for a while. Mind if I tag along?’Sam shook his head and gestured up the steps to let Gabriel ahead of him as he swiped the Impala’s keys off of the map table.‘Dean’ll probably have a stroke at the thought of you in the passenger seat of Baby, but that kind of sweetens the deal when it comes to pranking him.’ Sam called up to Gabriel, who grinned sadistically.‘I’ll send him a picture with my feet up on the dash.’—–They didn’t get their chance to pull off their plan until a day later, after a particularly messy but quick woodland hunt which had Dean shoved down into a muddy ditch by a werewolf.After Cas had healed his sprained ankle and disappeared Dean had finished his beer and grunted something about dirt being in places he hadn’t even known had existed before he shuffled off to the showers.As soon as he left the room Gabriel whipped around to face Sam with a look of mischievous anticipation on his face.‘Would it be too much to wait outside the showers for him to come out?’ Sam thought about it for a moment. ‘Nah, let’s go, I so need to get a picture of his face.’—-After waiting for what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door to the showers cracked open.Sam readied his phone camera off to the side as Gabriel held up a mirror directly in front of the entrance.The sight the two pranksters were met with was only half of what they expected though. For example the sight of a furious Dean with platinum blonde hair and a towel around his waist was expected, Castiel standing beside him in a similar state and trying to calm him down, was not.Sam sheepishly snapped a picture of the two of them on instinct then dropped his phone into his pocket as he tapped Gabriel on the shoulder to lower the mirror.When Gabriel caught sight of them together in all their blonde ridiculousness and towels, he immediately burst into laughter, which prompted Dean to lunge for him and almost lose said towel. Cas caught him by the shoulder with a sigh and yanked him back with one hand, the other catching a hold of his wayward towel. Sam averted his eyes from the awkward scene and cleared his throat. ‘So, how long has,’ He gestured to the pair dripping water into the hallway. ‘This, been going on for?’‘Shut up Sam.’ Dean grumbled, quickly forgetting his desire to kill the archangel still laughing at him in the face of questions about his love life. In fact, as he pushed past his younger brother determinedly, Sam could have sworn he saw Dean go bright red. Even Castiel was looking a little flushed as he quickly excused them both and ran after Dean.‘Okay, that was amazing. Please tell me you got a picture of them?’Sam smiled and nodded, taking out his phone and pulling up the picture. Their brothers looked hilariously like deer caught in headlights.‘That is brilliant! I now know what my prank for Cas is gonna be, I’m gonna print this a gazillion times and leave all the copies around the bunker.’Sam nodded in approval and high-fived him as they walked away from the scene of the crime, both of them still laughing every time they looked down at Sam’s phone.

#sabriel #destiel #writing prompts #drabble prompts #my writing #kez writes #prompt 18 #I'll also be posting this on ao3 as usual

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pope-francis-quotes · 6 years ago

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16th December >> (@zenitenglish) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis’ Angelus Address: Third Sunday of Advent (Gaudete, or Bambinelli Sunday) **Full Text on the ‘Sunday of Joy’**

Pope’s Angelus Address: Third Sunday of Advent (Gaudete, or Bambinelli Sunday)

On the Sunday of Joy, Reminds: ‘No worry, no fear will ever be able to take away from us the serenity that comes, not from human things, from human consolations, no, but the serenity that comes from God, knowing that God guides our life lovingly, and He does so always’

Angelus/Regina Caeli

Here is a ZENIT translation of the address Pope Francis gave today, before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter’s Square.

Present on this Third Sunday of Advent (Gaudete Sunday) were children of the Roman Oratories Center, and of the parishes and families of Rome, for the blessing of the little Christ Child figures.

* * *

Before the Angelus:

Dear Brothers and Sisters, good morning!

In this third Sunday of Advent the liturgy invites us to joy — listen carefully: to joy. The prophet Zephaniah turns to the small portion of the people of Israel with these words: “Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion; shout; O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem!” (3:14). Shout with joy, exult, rejoice: this is this Sunday’s invitation. The inhabitants of the Holy City are called to rejoice because the Lord has taken away their condemnation (Cf. v. 15). God had forgiven, He did not want to punish! Consequently, there is no longer a reason for the people’s sadness and distress, but everything leads to joyful gratitude to God, who always wants to rescue and save those He loves. And the Lord’s love for His people is incessant, like the tenderness of a father for his children, of a husband for his wife, as Zephaniah says again: “He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will renew you in His love; He will exult over you with loud singing” (v. 17). This is — it is called so – the Sunday of joy: the Third Sunday of Advent, before Christmas.

This appeal of the prophet is particularly appropriate in the time in which we prepare for Christmas, because it’s applied to Jesus, the Emmanuel, the God-with-us: His presence is the source of joy. In fact, Zephaniah proclaims:” King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst”; and shortly after he repeats: “The Lord your God is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory” (vv. 15.17). This message finds its full meaning in the moment of the Annunciation to Mary, recounted by the evangelist Luke. The words addressed to the Virgin by the Angel Gabriel are as an echo of those of the prophet. What does the Archangel Gabriel say? “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you” (Luke 1:28). “Rejoice,” he says to Our Lady. In a remote village of Galilee, in the heart of a young woman unknown to the world, God ignites the spark of happiness for the whole world. And today, the same announcement is addressed to the Church, called to receive the Gospel to become flesh, concrete life. It says to the Church, to all of us: “Rejoice small Christian community, poor and humble but beautiful in my eyes because you desire ardently my Kingdom, you are hungry and thirsty for justice, weave with patience threads of peace, do not chase the powers that be, but remain faithfully next to the poor. And so, you are not afraid of anything but your heart is in joy.” If we live thus, in the Lord’s presence, our heart will always be in joy — when there is “high-level, full joy, and the humble joy of every day, namely, peace. Peace is the littlest joy, but it’s joy.

Saint Paul also exhorts us today not to be anxious, not to despair about anything, but in every circumstance, to let our requests, our needs and>our worries made known to God “by prayer and supplication” (Philippians 4:6). The awareness that we can always turn to the Lord in our difficulties, and that He never rejects our invocations, is a great reason for joy. No worry, no fear will ever be able to take away from us the serenity that comes, not from human things, from human consolations, no, but the serenity that comes from God, knowing that God guides our life lovingly, and He does so always. Also, in the midst of problems and sufferings, this certainty nourishes hope and courage.

However, to receive the Lord’s invitation to joy, we must be persons willing to question ourselves. What does this mean? Exactly as those that, after having heard John the Baptist’s preaching, asked him: you preach thus and we, “what must we do?” (Luke 3:10). What must I do? This question is the firs step for the conversion we are invited to undergo in this Season of Advent. Let each one of us ask himself: what must I do? A small thing but “what must I do?” And may the Virgin Mary, who is our Mother, help us to open our heart to the God-who-comes, so that He inundates our whole life with joy.

[Original text: Italian] [ZENIT’s translation by Virginia M. Forrester]

After the Angelus:

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Approved last week at Marrakech in Morocco was the Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration, which is to be a frame of reference for the whole International Community. Therefore, I hope that, thanks also to this instrument, it will be ale to operate with responsibility, solidarity and compassion in dealing with those that, for different reasons, have left their own countries, and I entrust this intention to your prayers.

I greet you all, families, parish groups and Associations, who have come from Rome, from Italy and from so many parts of the world. In particular I greet the pilgrims of Siviglia, Hamburg, Monaco of Bavaria and Chapelle in Belgium. I greet the faithful of Pescara, Potenza, Bucchianico, Fabriano and Blera; the Comboni lay missionaries <and> the Scouts of Jesolo and Ca’Savio.

And now I address you especially, dear children of Rome, who have come for the blessing of the “Bambinelli,” [little Christ Child figures] accompanied by the Auxiliary Bishop, Monsignor Ruzza. I thank the Roman Oratories Center and the volunteers. Dear children, when you recollect yourselves in prayer at home before the Crib, fixing your gaze on the Child Jesus, you will feel the astonishment . . . You will ask me, what does “astonishment” mean? It’s a stronger feeling; it’s more than a common emotion. It’s to see God: astonishment because of the great mystery of God made man; and the Holy Spirit will put the humility, tenderness and goodness of Jesus in your heart. Jesus is good; Jesus is tender; Jesus is humble. This is true Christmas! Don’t forget it. May it be so for you and your families. I bless all the “Bambinelli.”

I wish you all a happy Sunday and a good Third Week of Advent — with joy, much joy and much peace when joy isn’t possible. And, please, don’t forget to pray for me. Enjoy your lunch and goodbye.

[Original text: Italian] [Translation by Virginia M. Forrester]DECEMBER 16, 2018 15:39

ANGELUS/REGINA CAELI

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sosthemortalcoil · 7 years ago

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Hello, just here to say, your writing is pure marvel to read — secondly, your characters are totally awesome and I adore them all with so much fondness. Thus it brings me to some questions: how would the LIs react to a Gabriel with a thick, scruffy beard, lumberjack-esque ? Or what about a Gabriel who has lost sight ? How would they treat a blind Gabriel then ?

Ah, also forgot to mention, the beard ask can be very platonical, I said LIs, but any reactions to it is always a welcome fluff up. Gotta’ live reading all the replies you give, ahhhhh. (Part two of the above ask.)

We’ll start with the beard ask, and then get to the blind Gabriel. For the beard ask, doing a platonic reaction for each RO followed by their reactions while in a relationship with Gabriel.

1. Alice: She’s wondering who will do better at no-shave-November; you or Charleston? (She’s betting on the werewolf.) As for being in a relationship with her, well, beards add some fun texture (though minimal stubble-burn, please).

2. Iain: He wishes he could grow a beard like that, but he can’t (and the one time he tried, it just looked ridiculous). As an RO, it’s a little weird for him (he’s used to only being with women) but he’s coming to find that he likes it.

3. Stephanie: She just shakes her head. It’s a guy thing. As an RO, she kind of wants to see if she can braid charms into it (like a dwarf from Lord of the Rings! Please? Pretty please?)

4. Charleston: He appreciates a good beard, but he does remind you that there are regulations to what length beards can be (and since he has to follow them, it’s only fair you do too.) As an RO, he likes scruffy.

5. Zaria: She’s not a big fan of beards, particularly if any of the hair starts to obscure a person’s lips. It makes it difficult to read lips when you can’t see. As an RO, she would much prefer Gabriel shave.

6. Tom: He might have to make a joke about Gabriel being hairier than a dog, but otherwise he won’t think much of it. As an RO, he’s not interested in men. A beard is a no-go for him.

7. Karyn: She thinks beards make guys look old, so she’s going to tease Gabriel about that. Even more-so as an RO, calling Gabriel ‘old-man’ quite a bit.

8. Aelius: Doesn’t really care about physical appearances. He’s seen pretty much every kind of person in his long-life. As an RO, he likes to play with it while cuddled up against Gabriel.

9. Iro: As long as it’s kept aesthetically pleasing, she’s doesn’t care. She will (as an RO or not) tug on it to get Gabriel’s attention.

10. Michael: Beards are human things. He’s not really a fan of them as an RO (he doesn’t like the texture).

11. Ramiel: It’s definitely different from what you used to look like. As an RO, he wonders if he should try to grow one so that you match.

12. Sabriel: She approves. One of those more human things. As an RO, she’s kind of fascinated with it.

13. Ryder: Look, if it makes Gabriel look more intimidating and bad-ass, he approves. As an RO, the only thing he’s concerned about is (possibly) being upstaged by Gabriel’s beard.

14. Leo: He thinks it lends an air of authority to Gabriel. As an RO, he gets a little disgruntled because he feels that it may highlight their age difference (which, really, since Gabriel is millennia older than all the non-angel ROs, isn’t an issue for him but he hates when others comment on it.)

15. Tadea: She’s never pictured angels as being scruffy, and you think you might catch her occasionally giggling over it to herself. Not really applicable as an RO (see Tom’s answer above).

Lucifer isn’t really a fan of facial hair (very human thing, that).

Daniel doesn’t care? He can’t grow one himself, but to him, Gabriel is Gabriel.

Israfel likes it. He thinks Gabriel is taking well to the whole-living as a human thing.

Blind ask below read line

First, about the blind ask, this is how they would respond to a Gabriel who has gone blind due to injury. This is not the same reaction for someone is born blind or goes blind through more gradual (naturalish?) means. This also assumes that Gabriel isn’t using superior angelic senses nor accustomed to being blind. Also, a blind Gabriel would be blinded in their shell, which is susceptible to things like being bitten by a were. Lastly, angels don’t have to rely on sight like humans do. In angel form, it’s impossible to permanently blind an angel (sight-wise). So for this ask to even work, 1. Gabriel must be in the shell and 2. For some unknown reason normal Grace regenerative and restorative powers aren’t working.

1. Alice is going to be searching for some magical way to restore sight, or let Gabriel see again. Archangel or no, they won’t let Gabriel stay her partner if they’re blind. She’s more prone to being snappish at home, stressed by trying to ensure that she’s not making things more difficult for Gabriel. She’s not normally a super neat person, but she’s been going overboard to make sure she doesn’t leave stuff lying about for Gabriel to trip on or stumble into.

2. Iain is an overbearing nanny. He feels guilty that this could have happened, and he tries to wait on you hand and foot. It’s nice at first, but it starts to become grating. You aren’t a complete invalid.

3. Stephanie immediately works on some charms to help you navigate. They heat up against your skin as you approach objects. She’s constantly trying new charms and little spells to try and assist you with your new state while also trying to figure out if there is a way to restore your sight permanently.

4. Charleston would offer to bite them. Being a werewolf with heightened senses could be helpful. He’s also a lot more growly when people get to close to you, snapping if someone actually runs into you.

5. Zaria is upset by this. Sometimes you can feel her anger when she signs something, momentarily forgetting you cannot see her. She repeats her words aloud, but it’s an aggravation. She works with you on learning Braille, and once you are comfortable with it, she starts leaving you little notes in Braille. Sometimes she just traces words on your skin, letting them speak for her.

6. Tom assigns someone to be with you at all times, making sure you’re safe and that you don’t hurt yourself while adjusting. Usually that someone is in wolf form, so as far as most people are concerned, you just have a seeing-eye-dog. One who changes almost daily. And looks more like a wolf. He himself tries to take as many shifts as possible, though he prefers to be in human form with you.

7. Karyn isn’t good at coping with things like this. She does set up everything electronic that you own to talk to you, reading stuff out loud like your text messages (which backfires when you open a text from her in front of her and Daniel...). She’s quick to get frustrated, frequently simmering in anger when something doesn’t go right or her attempt to help fails miserably. Still, she’s sticking around, which surprises you a little given her nature.

8. Aelius rarely lets you out of his sight. He’s furious that this happened in the first place, and is determined to get your sight back. He’s a demon. He’ll make it happen somehow.

9. Iro finds it funny that an archangel is wandering around blind. She doesn’t feel any sympathy, and frequently likes to push stuff into your path to test you.

10. Michael is furious. This shouldn’t be possible, but yet Gabriel is blind. He’s too busy ranting to focus on helping you, and keeps declaring that he’s going to fix this.

11. Ramiel is quieter, blaming himself for not protecting you. He’s always at hand when you need him, but you can tell that he’s brooding more.

12. Sabriel is quick to work on ensuring that you’re human life isn’t too badly impacted by this, getting you a trained seeing-eye-dog and working with you on adjusting to how blind humans function.

13. Ryder expects you to be able to still take care of yourself, and doesn’t do anything different.

14. Leo thinks it must be some sort of experiment, where Gabriel wants to experience life like blind humans do, because he cannot fathom a world where Gabriel, as an archangel, can’t just fix themselves.

15. Tadea wants to kill whoever did this to you. She doesn’t expect it to be permanent, but she’s still pissed that someone did this to her lover.

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 5 hours ago

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Flightless Bird American Mouth

Flightless Bird, American Mouth https://ift.tt/a0DWHkX by N0t_M00se Michael is an archangel, beautiful and perfect, crafted by the hands of God himself. He's an obedient son, a loving brother, a responsible leader. When his Father asks that he cage his own brother, he does so without question. When he returns to Heaven after the fight, he finds that both God and Gabriel have fled -Gabriel to Earth, and God to who knows where. His last message? Lucifer will rise again, and it will be up to Michael to defeat him once and for all on the battlefield. Then, and only then, will God return. A man named Dean Winchester is destined to be his vessel on Earth, but when the time comes and he refuses (with the help of a particularly annoying fallen angel), Michael is forced to improvise with the secret third Winchester son. Words: 5904, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Michael (Supernatural), Adam Milligan, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Lucifer (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Raphael (Supernatural) Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Michael does not approve of Destiel but dean and cas are gay in the background anyway, Post-Canon Fix-It, Michael and Adam Milligan Share a Body, Michael Possessing Adam Milligan, Michael Loves Adam Milligan, michael is a little bit dean coded actually, sabriel only hinted at, as in gabriel has a little crush on sam but would never commit, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, at least not permanently, Religious Guilt, Everybody Lives, Angel Soul Bonds (Supernatural), Soulmates, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Canon-Typical Violence via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/c9ZsfO8 November 22, 2024 at 04:16PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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wisdomrays · 7 years ago

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BASICS OF ISLAM :Angel Azrail

Q: Although Azrail is One, How does He Capture the Souls of Many People Who Die at the Same Instant?

By the angels who tear out (the souls of the wicked). By those who gently draw out (the souls of the blessed). And by those who glide along (on errands of mercy). (Nazi'at 79:1-3)

With this question, we again face a subject which, if we tackle it by making human analogies, will mislead us. It is a mistake to liken an angel to a human being, just as it is a mistake to seek the mind in the brain, or the emotions in the heart, or the soul in the body, or—in the language of philosophy—to seek the noumenal in the phenomenal. It would be improper to attempt this question without first pointing out that mistake in thinking and terminology which (probably) is what gives rise to it and other questions like it.

Angels are, as regards their creation and essence, the realm they exist in, and their responsibilities and duties, creatures wholly different from all others.

Any argument or judgment made without taking full account of that difference is bound to go wrong. The nature of angels should therefore be approached through consideration of their different creation and essence, their different realm of existence, and their different responsibilities and duties.

Malak (angel) in Arabic relates to malk which has the meaning power, or to mal'ak which has the meaning messenger.

The shared point of reference is to one most powerful or to the power itself or to one who, as messenger, holds and carries that power: thus, an angel comes to mean one who, as messenger, holds and carries the divine commands. Such an elevated rank belongs to all angels as such. For the angel commissioned to convey the Divine Message to humankind, it is necessary to have the most elevated rank and the most superior attributes of all. Angels are commissioned to oversee all kinds of events—from supervising birth, life, and death to carrying the Throne (arsh) and observing the Divine Actions in wonder, admiration and praise. All so-called natural laws, from attraction and repulsion between masses to the principles that regulate electrons spinning around the nucleus, and the putting into effect of these laws, and all changes and transformations, compositions and decompositions, exist under the administration of angels, who are the medium of the messengership and power. Angels are so related to things and events that neither a drop of rain nor a clap of thunder can ever be conceived without them. The laws operating in the universe (shari'at al-fitriyya) are the manifestation of the limitless power of the Creator, the All-Mighty, the Absolute Sovereign, on angels according to their skills and capacities. Similarly, all legislative (tashri'i) commands to humankind from the attributes of kalam are conveyed by angels. Since humanity is the focus of all great and majestic manifestations of the Creator, the Divine inspiration and revelation that come to humanity to guide and regulate his actions are nothing other than the manifestations of God to angels. In this respect, it is ignorance and an error in thinking to liken to human beings, the angelic beings who are a medium or a means between God and His servants, who are charged with supervising or administering all things from atoms to nebulae in dependence on the power of the All-Mighty. It is likewise a misjudgment and an error to consider restrictions by which human existence is bound as applicable also to angels. If the angels had a physical form like that of humankind and were subject to decay and decomposition, if they too were aged and eroded by time, we might use the same criteria for both. However, there is a world of difference which makes such a comparison impossible.

As regards their creation and nature, the angels are different from humankind.

The powers and responsibilities of angels are not bounded by space and time. The purity, light (nur) and splendor in their essence make them more powerful, influential, quick and active. They can be in touch with many souls, be seen by many eyes, and manifest their oneness in plural forms, at any instant of time or space, even though they are one. In a hadith narrated by 'Aisha, Prophet Muhammad said:

"The angels were created out of light (nur)."

That is why, they are given and thus manifest all the attributes of light.

Luminous things, like the sun, though single, are reflected by and so seen in each transparent object; they can reach and be seen by each and every eye. Similarly, the angels, who are created out of light, can meet and be reflected in many souls; and they can deal with thousands of them at an instant.

The angels, whose essence is latif (fine, subtle), are very different from what has material form and is therefore heavy and dense. The angels can take different shapes and forms; also, they can be seen in different shapes and forms at the same instant. Tamassul, the souls' or angels' assuming visible forms, has long been known among religious people, and there are many examples of it. It is even now not uncommon to hear claims (something, alas, of a pastime among the so-called "idle rich") of some individual's "spirit" or "double" being in a place separate and distant from where the body is and able to produce material effects. Whatever the truth of such reports and claims, they indicate that all fine beings like souls, in comparison to physical beings, are more capable, quick and active. Angels are far more capable, quick and active than souls, which is another indication that angels operate beyond the bounds of physical nature.

As we said, tamassul of souls and angels is a phenomenon that has long been known and reported. The Prophets in the first place and then the saints have recounted their experiences, and many ordinary people around them witnessed such incidents. The coming and appearance of the archangel Gabriel, in different guises and personalities, according to the reasons and missions he was given, such as being a messenger while conveying the Revelations and being a warrior during battles, are good examples of tamassul:Gabriel appeared in the form of Dihya; as another angel, whose name we do not know, fought till evening in front of the Prophet as Mus'ab ibn 'Umayr; many angels took part in the battle of Badr in the guise of Zubayr ibn Awwam to boost the morale of the Muslims.

There are many incidents which indicate that some saints are in touch with the heroes of the Unseen, among them former saints and Companions of the Prophet.

Also, their appearance to ordinary people in dreams and trance-like states supports the argument. A number of godly men and women have testified that, in their dreams, particular noble souls always keep in touch with them, and give them guidance. To be sure, there will be people who refer all such experiences to the "subconscious" and so make the whole subject incomprehensible. Alas for their ignorance and arrogance!

To sum up what we have said so far:

just as all beings are seen reflected in a mirror, so angels are seen in everything that can be a mirror to them, but with this difference that angels are not merely a picture or image, as a reflection in a mirror is, but are as themselves, with all their powers and faculties. Like a beam of light, angels can reach and be in various places at the same time and carry out their duties, the distance of the place or the number of people concerned are of no relevance and can present no hindrance. The sun is single but is reflected, seen, and its effects are felt, everywhere on every object according to the object's qualities. Similarly, the angels, being created of light, can be seen, breathe life into human beings or recapture their souls or carry out any other of their duties everywhere at any time.

In reality it is, of course, God who gives and takes life. Azrail is only a medium and means, commissioned to superintend the giving of life and recapturing of souls and to praise the All-Mighty in His Divine Actions.

As God is everywhere at every instant and performs innumerable actions beyond the power of our imaginations to conceive, it is not difficult to accept that He can create, give and take innumerable lives all in a single instant. Such omniscience and omnipotence can undoubtedly see, administer and govern the deeds, and give and take the lives, of as many people as there may be particles in the whole universe, at the same instant, though some unfortunate atheists may refuse to believe.

Whether God or Azrail captures the souls, each soul whose time of death has come turns to God at its last moment and then is taken. We can make this more comprehensible by an analogy. Let us suppose that there are thousands of radio-like receivers operating on the same frequency. If any transmitter sends signals on that frequency, they will be heard on all the receivers. In the same way, all beings live in dependence for everything on the All-Mighty, All-Generous Creator, and when they ask for anything from Him, they do so through their poverty, that is, through their needs, their helpless impotence. And when they reach the last minute of their life and turn to God by, as it were, switching on to their life-ending frequency, they begin to perceive the signals of death. If a weak, powerless human being can make contact with systems hundreds of miles away simply by pressing a button, why cannot the All-Mighty Creator, who is free from all our weakness, impotence and deficiencies, make contact with souls, each of which is, in a sense, a living machine? Why cannot He make them all start or stop functioning in an instant?

Summary

It is God who gives and takes life. Azrail is only an agent who is commissioned to oversee and administer and praise the work of God.

While carrying out his task, Azrail acts only with the permission and approval of God.

As a great number of angels administer tasks in the universe as representatives of the Divine Authority, Power and Will, there are many angels that can help Azrail with his work. They are even grouped into classes according to their tasks. Some of them take the lives of people without causing them any distress or hurt—they carry out their task peacefully. After souls have been recaptured, other angels at once take the souls before the Divine Presence, and so on. The Qur'an refers to all of them:

By the angels who tear out (the souls of the wicked). By those who gently draw out (the souls of the blessed). And by those who glide along (on errands of mercy) (Nazi'at 79:1-3).

Thus there are different angels dispatched according to the level of the people they will deal with. They are all under the supervision of Azrail, and God commissions them according to whether the individuals concerned were good or wicked.

In conclusion, we can say that the understanding which gives rise to such questions begins in an error of thinking in that it mistakenly likens angels to human beings. We have pointed out that angels are quite different from beings with physical form; not only in their essence and creation but also in their tasks, servanthood and responsibilities, angels are quite different from other creatures. Angels can assume different forms (tamassul), be in many places, and do many things, as human beings' souls can. What is popularly read about in our day in connection with spirit-mediums, necromancy, and other such efforts to communicate with the Unseen, are in their way evidence of metaphysical elements operating in the physical universe. Angels, as beings far superior to these elements, can function and carry out their missions in a way far superior to all other beings. And certainly, at the time of death, when people share the same "frequency" with the angels, an angel can deal with thousands of people at the same instant. Finally, we must remember that the angel for death is not alone; rather, there are innumerable angels appointed for taking souls, and when we consider that there is an angel for each individual death, no further point remains to raise the kind of doubts expressed in the question.

God knows best.

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drades-lair · 7 years ago

Text

Itchy feathers

Author: Drade666

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggested sex

Pairings: Sabriel

Fandom: Supernatural

“We have 3 choices, ghouls, vamps or werewolf,” Dean announced from behind his laptop screen

“Can’t be werewolf…no hearts missing,” Sam corrected from behind a musty book he was wondering around the bunker’s library reading.

“Okay…then ghouls or vamps,” Dean corrected himself with an eye roll

“Could be a god too,” Sam tossed out there

“Okay fine! Let’s just call Gabriel and get the straight answer,” Dean suggested in a frustrated tone, grabbing his beer to take a swig.

“W-Well…why don’t we…call Cas?” Sam suggested

“Does it matter?” Dean inquired, squinting his eyes in confusion

“It’s just…I’ve been trying to contact Gabriel recently and…he won’t answer,” Sam awkwardly explained while placing the book on the table in front of Dean’s laptop.

“Won’t answer? Since when does he not respond to you?” Dean asked now even more confused than before.

“I can’t answer that Dean…Gabriel just won’t come when I call right now for some reason so either call Cas or just keep looking,” Sam groused back

“Fine, fine, geez don’t have a fit,” Dean retorted, holding his hands up in defense

“Fine…I’m going to go grab the lore books out of my duffle in my room,” Sam stated irritably as he headed towards the hallway where their rooms were.

Sam pushed open the door to his room then headed over to his navy green duffle that rested on the ground just opposite the bed. Kneeling down Sam began to dig in the bag but he pulled one book out before pausing with a heavy sigh, moments later he moved to sit on the edge of his bed with the book still in his hands. Eyes falling closed Sam tried praying to Gabriel for about the 100th time that week only to chuckle at the thought of being the woman in the relationship just as Gabriel had always teased before, leaving hundreds of messages for Gabe. Sam’s head dipped causing his long brown hair to fall in his face as he continued to laugh to himself about the idea when a breeze fluttered through the room with a familiar scent upon it.

“Well I always said you were the woman in this relationship,” Came the very familiar voice of Gabriel causing Sam to whip his head instantly in the direction of where it had come from.

“Gabriel?” Sam exclaimed in shock at seeing Gabriel leaning against the door

“You expecting someone else?” Gabriel inquired, smirk firmly plastered on his features

“Considering you haven’t answered me in a week…yeah,” Sam bluntly stated as he stood from the bed

“Hey! News flash Sammy, I’m an archangel…been just a little busy,” Gabriel retorted

“Still you couldn’t just tell me that?” Sam asked angrily

“Like I said sort of busy,” Gabriel repeated making Sam more frustrated

“Seriously! That’s all you can say after making me worry like that!” Sam barked irritably

“I’m not your bitch Sammy…I don’t need to come when you call!” Gabe shouted back only perpetuating the situation however it was at this moment that Sam noticed Gabriel’s right shoulder twitch, it was subtle but it was there.

“All I want is a little reassurance that you’re alright next time…that’s all,” Sam explained, now watching Gabriel closely.

“Yeah! Well…I guess…I can understand…that,” Gabriel stammered out as a slight pink flush crossed his cheeks, averting his gaze to the ground out of slight shame for having worried Sam so bad. Sam watched every little motion catching the subtle little movements of Gabriel’s shoulders and that’s when he realized that the archangel wasn’t twitching…he was scratching or trying to anyway without drawing attention.

“Gabriel…are you alright?” Sam finally asked upon having his revelation

“Fine…why?” Gabriel inquired but Sam could tell instantly that he was lying

“You seem…uncomfortable,” Sam pointed out

“No…I’m fine…truly,” Gabriel insisted, pushing off the door, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Don’t lie to me Gabriel,” Sam persisted

“I’m not…now what do you say we go deal with this monster issue of yours,” Gabriel smirked, turning to head out the door. Sam came right up behind Gabriel instantly laying a hand on his shoulder which made the archangel yelp with a jolt as if Sam had just electrocuted him like Dean used to do by rubbing his feet on the carpet when they were kids.

“Just as I thought…you’re not okay,” Sam commented in response to Gabriel’s reaction

Suddenly a very sheepish expression dropped over Gabriel’s features along with a light blush across his cheeks as he turned slowly to face Sam again. Gabriel shuffled his feet on the floor while keeping his hands buried in his pockets as he stared at the floor as opposed to looking Sam in the eye as his shoulders bunched up. Sam let out a deep sigh allowing his features to soften as he stepped closer to Gabriel gently wrapping the archangel in a hug as encouragement for him to tell Sam what was going on.

“Come on…tell me what’s going on,” Sam encouraged further

“I…can’t…it’s too embarrassing,” Gabriel mumbled into Sam’s shirt

“Come on Gabriel…we’ve seen each other naked…nothing is to embarrassing,” Sam assured the archangel as he pushed Gabriel a little away from him so as to catch Gabe’s whiskey gaze with his own green one. Gabriel released a pent up sigh after a few moments as a sign of surrender.

“I’ve…sort of…got this…itch…” Gabriel stammered out

“Itch? Where?” Sam inquired furrowing his brow in confusion

“Somewhere…awkward…” Gabriel attempted to explain as his blush got deeper

“Okay…dare I ask exactly where?” Sam inquired now arching an eyebrow in suspicion

“Not like that! My…wings are itchy,” Gabriel finally spat out only to immediately avert his gaze again

“Y-Your…wings?” Sam inquired in shocked surprise

“Yes…and I…can’t reach them,” Gabriel quietly added

“Oh…I see…well, can I help?” Sam carefully inquired

“Maybe…I need grooming…that’s why their itchy…” Gabriel explained a little more in detail

“Okay, just tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Sam encouraged, tossing the book back into his duffle that he’d been holding onto this whole time.

“Um…they need to be cleaned…then straightened and preened,” Gabriel instructed

Sam smiled lovingly at Gabriel before heading off to the bathroom that was attached to his room but not before instructing Gabe to strip down to his boxers. Gabriel complied with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle that made Sam chuckle and roll his eyes before heading into the bathroom to grab a large bowl that he filled with warm water then he snatched up some wash cloths as well as some towels. When Sam emerged from the bathroom Gabe was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed wearing only his boxers just as Sam had instructed but there was still no sign of the archangel’s wings. Sam set the bowl of warm water on the nightstand, shoving his alarm clock out of the way to do so then walked up to Gabriel who still seemed a little apprehensive at drawing out his wings.

“If you want me to help you’re going to have to show them to me.” Sam pointed out

“I know…it’s just…not easy…” Gabriel admitted but he took a deep breath then concentrated

From behind Gabriel’s back the air shifted in waves like heat coming off the side walk on a summer day and the atmosphere shifted to become thick. It wasn’t what Sam had expected though the wings didn’t really fade into sight instead it was like the atmosphere parted around them like a curtain being pulled aside to reveal the large appendages…and man were they ever large. Gabriel had six wings coated in gold with shimmers of lighter yellows that only emerged when the feathers would shift and the tops of the arches nearly touched the ceiling while the ends of the flight feathers draped along the bed behind Gabriel till they cascaded over the edge. Sam was in complete aw looking at the glorious appendages before him but he managed to pull himself from the haze enough to remember why they were doing this thus he grabbed the cloth from the bowl then moved carefully behind Gabe who watched very closely as Sam settled on the mattress right behind the archangel making certain to take great care as he reached the hand with the cloth in it towards the feathers. Sure enough Gabriel’s wings were dirty with a slight coating of dust on the feathers that kept them from fully shining properly and there were misplaced feathers sticking out along with some that were falling out completely from just naturally being shed. Sam started slowly just running the cloth over the surface of the outer feathers making Gabe hum his approval as encouragement for Sam to continue what he was doing thus he did till Gabriel started to slowly open his wings up to Sam obviously unable to fully extend them in the tiny room but he could get them open more than enough for Sam to clean the feathers. It took hours for Sam to get all the feathers clean with Dean interrupting once in the very middle but Sam quickly managed to get him to go away or rather Gabriel did by make some obscene noises while Sam had been trying to sell another lie luckily it worked in getting Dean to leave with a disgusted noise of his own. Once Gabriel’s wings were free of dirt and the stray feathers disposed of he began sorting feathers back into place that’s when Gabriel cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked having stilled his movements at the sound

“Yes…I’m fine…better than fine actually… but um…there is one other step I omitted,” Gabriel explained glancing over his shoulder at Sam.

“Okay…what is it?” Sam inquired

“It’s…um…to keep our wings clean and water proof…angels need to…oil their wings…” Gabriel managed to get out.

“What sort of oil?” Sam asked curiously

“Our oil…” Gabriel trailed off awkwardly

“Okay…how do I…” Sam trailed off in confusion that’s when Gabriel lifted his wings up to separate the top set from the lower ones.

“Slide your hand to the bases of my top wing sets right where they join with my shoulder blades there should be a small extension of skin.” Gabriel instructed which Sam followed

“This?” Sam asked as he brushed his fingers on the small connection of skin that was right before the large connective muscle that attached to bone.

“Yes, now follow that up just a bit and there should be a cluster of short feathers…dip your fingers in there and…yikes!” Gabriel yelped as Sam’s fingers easily found their way to his oil glands

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Sam exclaimed instantly pulling his fingers away

“NO! No…it’s just…been a while since anyone has touched them…their sensitive,” Gabriel explained in a panting tone

“Oh…sorry, I’ll be gentle,” Sam assured Gabriel as he returned his fingers to the small round object located in Gabriel’s feathers. As he massaged the small round orb it became slick as did Sam’s fingers and when he pulled them back they were coated in a semi thick liquid that had a iridescent sheen to it and the smell that Sam always associated with Gabriel.

Gently Sam started smearing the oil along Gabriel’s feathers instantly restoring they’re glorious shine but as it turned out that wasn’t all Sam was doing. As Sam neared the end of the process he heard Gabriel give a shuttering moan that made him stop but Gabe refused to look at Sam until the younger Winchester pulled Gabriel’s face towards him revealing a deep red blush across Gabriel’s cheeks and his breathing was clearly shallow. Sam instantly recognized that look from the many times they’d had sex together and a quick glance downwards confirmed Sam’s suspicions.

“S-Sam…” Gabriel breathed out with a slight wince

Sam pulled Gabriel further to capture him in a deep kiss that Gabriel eagerly returned as they shifted into a better position. Needless to say the monster hunt never happened for them instead Sam found out later from Dean that it had been ghouls all along but to be honest he didn’t care after the incredible night he’d had with Gabriel it had been worth missing out on the hunt.

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