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dystopic-view · 5 days ago

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The stranger in my bed

Human Sukuna x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Ryomen Sukuna is a feared tyrant, left wounded after a failed assassination attempt. When you find him, you have no idea who he truly is. To you, he is simply a stranger in need of help. But as you tend to his wounds and his identity comes to light, tensions rise.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: heian era au, fluff, tyrant Sukuna, detailed mentions of blood and wounds, caregiving, treating wounds, wholesome Sukuna???, oblivious reader, minor-paced heat (not exactly a slow burn), bickering, first kiss

𝐖.𝐂: 3.8K

During the Heian era, Ryomen Sukuna’s name echoed through the land, a symbol of both salvation and destruction. To some, he was a fearless guardian, a necessary evil who protected his people through fear. To others, he was a bloodthirsty tyrant, a dictator who ruled with an iron fist. Stories of his violence reached far and wide, stretching beyond Japan’s borders. Whether true or false, these stories fueled the image of him being a ruthless monster. Without Sukuna’s knowledge, his tyranny had sparked the flames of rebellion inside the hearts of the oppressed.

A group of rebels, united in their struggles, set their sights on Sukuna’s downfall.

At the crack of dawn, they attacked with deadly precision, a hail storm of arrows aiming for the heart of the man who had long plagued their land.

But Sukuna was no ordinary man.

He managed to escape death, but not without injury.

One arrow hit its mark, and he stumbled into the forest, clutching his side as blood stained his kimono.

The chill of the winter morning air bit at his skin, his breath coming in ragged pants as he stumbled through the snow.

His strength was failing him, the relentless cold only worsening his agony.

His vision blurred, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed.

The snow crunched beneath him as his body fell limp, his blood painting the ground in scarlet streaks.

The great and terrible Ryomen Sukuna, once untouchable, had fallen farther than anyone had ever thought possible.

You had been walking through the woods, taking a shortcut back to your cabin after a quick run for some herbs from a neighboring village, when the sight of a blood trail against the pristine white snow stopped you in your tracks.

Your gaze followed it until it led to a man.

A stranger, one you hadn’t seen before, lying there on the ground, his chest rising and falling faintly.

“Sir!” you exclaimed, rushing to his side.

Kneeling down, you examined him with growing panic.

An arrow was sticking out from his side, blood seeping from the wound and soaking his clothing.

His face was as pale as the snow beneath him, his features twisted in pain.

His eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open, scanning the forest with paranoia.

“Who did this to you?” you asked, your voice urgent but soft as your hands hovered over him.

His eyes finally locked onto yours, sharp and filled with malice.

“Be gone,” he spat, the words dripping with venom despite his obvious weakness.

He tried to swat your hands away, but his movements were sluggish.

“Don’t touch me,” he groaned, trying to sound commanding, but his strength had abandoned him.

His arrogance, however, hadn’t.

Your eyes widened at his reaction, but you remained calm, inhaling a deep breath as you figured out the next course of action.

“You can complain all you want,” you replied, your tone firm as you ignored his protests, “but I’m not leaving you here to bleed out on the snow.”

Sliding one of his arms over your shoulders, you lifted him up with difficulty, your legs trembling under his weight. “Come on,” you said through gritted teeth, “my cabin is just a few steps away.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, attempting to pull away.

His voice carried the same threatening tone as before, but the aggression of his words was completely outshined by his obvious vulnerable state.

“Focus on not dying,” you snapped, adjusting his weight as you dragged the both of you through the snow.

When you finally reached your cabin, you pushed the door open with your foot and led him to your bed, laying him down as carefully as his deadweight allowed.

You wasted no time.

Kneeling beside him, you carefully opened up his kimono, revealing more than you expected.

His chest was broad and well-defined, muscles rippling beneath his skin.

The dim light of the room highlighted the scars that covered it.

So many, each one a mystery you couldn’t quite understand.

You frowned, fingers brushing over the marks, wondering what kind of life had left him like this.

His abs flexed slightly as you carefully touched him, and for a moment, you couldn't help but notice how his body looked like it had been carved from stone.

You caught yourself staring for a little too long at the sight of his body, and quickly shook your head, snapping your focus back to the task at hand.

His wound needed your attention.

“I’m not some helpless fool,” he growled, his voice rasping.

You ignored him, slipping away to grab some supplies.

A clean cloth, a bowl of water, and a bottle of alcohol.

Returning to his side, you soaked the cloth and pressed it gently against the wound, cleaning away the blood.

He flinched, his body tensing under your touch.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned, wrapping your fingers around the arrow. “I’m sorry.”

Without waiting for his response, you pulled the arrow out in one swift motion.

His scream tore through the cabin, raw and guttural.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“You’re making this worse,” he hissed when the pain subsided slightly.

“Right,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Bleeding out on the snow sounds way better than my help."

Even though he continued to complain and glare at you, he had no choice but to let you stitch up the wound.

As you worked, his breathing eventually steadied but the sour look on his face never left.

"I don’t need your help," he muttered one last time, his voice quieter now, but still laced with defiance.

"And I don’t need your gratitude," you replied evenly, tying off the final stitch. "But here we are anyway."

His crimson eyes bore into you with disdain, but you simply sighed and stood. "You’re lucky the wound wasn’t worse. You’ll need to rest, though."

Without waiting for a reply, you left the room, returning a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup.

You sat down beside him on the bed, carefully scooping up a spoonful of soup.

Gently, you brought it close to his lips, watching him closely.

“Here,” you said quietly, waiting for him to part his lips. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. This will help.”

Sukuna’s eyes flicked to the spoon, then back to you.

He didn’t move. “I’m not a child,” he snapped, his tone sharp despite the fatigue in his voice.

You shook your head with a light chuckle. “Good to know.”

You extended the spoon again, your voice warm but firm. “Eat, please.”

He let out a low, irritated grunt but finally opened his mouth, reluctantly accepting the spoonful you offered.

The way his jaw clenched as he accepted it was almost comical, as if the act of cooperation was physically painful for him.

You watched as he ate another spoonful, his movements stiff.

He paused, then took another, slower this time.

“It’s bland,” he muttered, turning his face away with an expression of disinterest.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “It’s supposed to be easy on your stomach,” you explained patiently. “I didn’t want to give you anything too heavy.”

He snorted, his tone laced with sarcasm. “How considerate.”

You let the comment slide, refusing to take the bait.

Instead, you stood, setting the bowl down on the nightstand and placing a blanket over his body “I’ll make something tastier once you’re feeling better. For now, this will have to do.”

Sukuna glared at you, clearly annoyed by your calm demeanor, but said nothing.

Over the next few hours, his defiance didn’t waver once.

Every time you checked his wound, he’d flinch or growl as if your touch was offensive.

When you tried to help him sit up or adjust his bandages, he’d mutter something under his breath about not needing your assistance.

By the tenth time he dismissed your efforts with a scoff, your patience began to wear thin.

“Could you at least try not to act like I’m torturing you?” you asked lightly, your voice tinged with humor rather than frustration.

“I wouldn’t have to act,” he shot back, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

You exhaled slowly, your grip tightening on the cloth in your hand. “You really have a way with words, don’t you?”

He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement now. “Easy there, you’re sounding annoyed.”

You forced a smile, though it was strained. “Not annoyed. Just questioning why I’m bothering to help when it’s so clearly unwanted.”

The silence stretched, and his smirk momentarily disappeared.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, before leaning back against the pillows with a low grunt.

“Fine, do as you please,” he mumbled, his eyelids fluttering shut.

You sighed, torn between irritation and concern as you watched him. “I plan to,” you murmured softly, more to yourself than to him, before gathering your supplies and leaving the room.

As you walked out of the room, Sukuna cracked one eye open, his gaze lingering on the door you’d just closed.

For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, the softness in your voice and the tenderness in your actions unsettled him far more than any battle wound ever had.

Why were you treating him like this?

With so much kindness and care, despite his infamy.

Him, of all people.

The next morning, you entered the room to check on him, carrying another bowl of soup in one hand and a fresh bandage roll in the other.

He was awake, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his expression neutral.

“Good morning,” you said kindly, setting the bowl down on the nightstand beside him.

He didn’t respond, but you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around, arranging your supplies.

You sat next to him on the edge of the bed, peeling back the blanket to inspect his wound. The stitches held on well overnight, and the redness around the area had started to fade.

“It’s healing nicely,” you said with a small smile, dabbing at the wound with a damp cloth.

Sukuna grunted. “I’ve had worse.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “I’m sure you have. But that doesn’t mean you should brush this off.”

He didn’t reply, his gaze shifting away from you to the window.

As you worked, the silence between you stretched, but it didn’t feel as tense as it had before. He didn’t flinch as much when your hands brushed against his skin, and while his annoyed expression remained firmly in place, there was something less hostile about it now.

“Here,” you said after finishing with his bandages, lifting the bowl of soup and holding it out to him.

He eyed it suspiciously. “Still bland, I assume?”

You chuckled. “Probably. But you’ll eat it anyway.”

This time, he took the bowl without complaint.

As he ate, you settled down on the bed, watching him quietly.

“You’re awfully persistent,” he muttered after a few bites, his tone less sharp than usual.

“And you’re awfully stubborn,” you countered, a teasing hint in your voice.

He snorted, a sound that almost resembled a laugh. “You’re really something, aren’t you?” He spoke with his usual sharpness, but this time, it wasn’t as cold.

You raised an eyebrow, not missing the subtle shift in his tone. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Could be worse, I guess. At least you’re not boring.”

With a soft chuckle, you tilted your head. "I’d say I’m doing something right, since you're still alive and complaining."

Over the next few days, a routine formed between you.

You’d take care of his wound in the morning, bring him food, and sit with him for a while, talking about small things.

Your life living in the forest, the weather, little stories from the nearby village.

At first, he barely responded, his silence more dismissive than curious.

But slowly, his mean comments became fewer, his glares less frequent.

Once, you even caught him watching you with an expression you could only describe as endearing.

One evening, as you were tidying up the room, Sukuna broke the silence.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he stated, his voice low but certain.

You glanced at him, pausing mid-step. “Should I be?”

He frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Most people would.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “You’re lying half-dead in my bed, what is it that you want me to fear so bad?” Your voice was light, teasing, but there was a hint of curiosity in your gaze now.

Sukuna scoffed. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you asked, leaning forward slightly.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes scanning your face almost as if deciding if he truly wanted to say whatever it was he was thinking about.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“Who I am.”

A strange silence followed his statement, and you found yourself blinking in confusion. “Should I?”

A bitter laugh escaped him, sharp and humorless. “You’ve been tending to the most feared man in the land, and you don’t even realize it.”

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing to piece together his cryptic statement. “Feared?” you replied.

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into yours, gauging your reaction. “I’m Ryomen Sukuna.’’

Your breath hitched, the realization slamming into you like a splash of ice cold water. Memories of whispered stories and terrified murmurs surfaced in your mind.

Tales of a tyrant whose cruelty knew no limits, whose power was unmatched.

Your gaze darted to his eyes, lowering to the sharp angles of his jaw, until they landed on his scarred chest.

The scars on his body told a story far darker than you'd imagined.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body slightly shifting away from him on the bed.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow “Ah, there it is. Fear.”

But as the silence stretched, the fear he expected didn’t consume you.

Instead, your expression shifted from shock to something else entirely.

“You’re joking,” you said flatly, though your voice trembled slightly.

“Do I look like someone who jokes?” His tone was sharp, his gaze unforgiving.

You stared at him, your mind racing.

The pieces fit together too neatly to deny.

The arrogance.

The way he carried himself.

The near-fatal attack he’d suffered.

It all made sense now.

And yet…

You exhaled slowly, leaning back to where you were sitting before. “Well, that explains the attitude,” you muttered.

His brow furrowed, clearly caught off guard by your response. “That’s it? No begging for mercy? No scrambling to escape?”

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. “Am I supposed to? You’re still breathing only because I’m here. What are you going to do, kill me with that look?

For the first time since you’d met him, Sukuna looked genuinely stunned.

“You’re either very brave,” he said finally, his voice low, “or very foolish.”

“Maybe both,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But even if I knew who you were from the start... I probably still would’ve helped you.”

He sat there staring at you, with a bewildered expression on his face, and for once, he didn’t have a sharp reply.

The air in the room thickened with a tension neither of you had expected.

You shifted slightly on the bed, the heaviness of your words lingering between you, while Sukuna remained silent, his eyes never leaving yours.

You both seemed locked in some kind of standoff, neither of you backing down, but neither of you making a move either.

His eyes were darker now, unreadable and intense, while you felt your pulse quicken under the intensity of his gaze.

Finally, he relaxed against the pillows with a quiet grunt, still watching you carefully, as if he was trying to figure out why you weren’t reacting the way he expected.

“You’re strange, you know that?” His voice was low, but there was something softer in the way he spoke.

“I’ve been told that before,” you said, smiling softly.

He chuckled, the sound extremely faint. “I can’t believe you’re so calm after all this. After knowing who I am.”

You shrugged, your gaze not leaving his. “What does it change? You’re still the same man lying in my bed.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “And you still haven’t run screaming for the hills. A miracle.”

“No, just... common sense,” you said, a teasing tone in your voice. “What would I gain by running? I’ve already fed you, patched you up, and made sure you didn’t die on me. There’s no turning back now.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite place. “You’ve got more nerve than I expected. I’ll give you that.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m pretty sure you don’t hand those out often,” you said with a soft chuckle, your voice light and easy.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, and gently adjusted the blanket around him, your fingers lingering for longer than necessary.

Sukuna’s eyes shifted to your hands, noticing how your touch lingered just a little too long. His body tensed, not out of discomfort but out of unfamiliarity.

He wasn’t used to this.

To someone treating him with such care.

It felt strange.

Unsettling even.

It made him want to pull away but at the same time, he couldn’t move.

It felt like his body was stuck in place.

His gaze returned to your face, the focus in your expression catching him off guard.

There was no fear, no negative feelings toward him that he could detect.

The light weight of the blanket against his chest suddenly felt heavier, almost suffocating, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

He stayed silent, the tension growing between you.

He felt torn, unsure whether to act on his usual instinct to push everyone away or give in to the curiosity pulling him in.

His voice eventually broke the silence, his tone quieter. “You’ve got to stop making it so easy.”

You glanced up at him, puzzled. “Making what easy?”

“Making me want to stay” he murmured, his gaze flicking down to your lips.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline immediately at this statement, your heartbeat picking up speed for a brief second, as you sat there processing his words.

You didn’t move, not at first, and just stared at him, trying to make sense of what he said.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, his hand moved.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, until his fingers gently trailed the side of your face, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you knew it, you were leaning forward unconsciously.

The proximity between you felt magnetic, the way his eyes were stuck on yours dragging you towards him.

His breath was warm against your skin, his gaze never shifting as he leaned in as well.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t frantic or desperate.

Instead it was slow.

Careful, like he wasn’t quite sure how to begin.

His lips were soft at first, like he was waiting for some signal from you.

And you gave him one.

You leaned into him, hands finding the edge of his kimono, pulling him closer with an urgency that matched the quickening pulse in your chest.

The kiss intensified, the uncertainty between you slowly disappearing with every movement. As his fingers tangled in your hair, you felt the tight knot of tension between you both loosen.

It was more than just a gesture.

That kiss was the release of everything you’d both been holding back, the chemistry finally too strong to deny.

For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but him, nothing but the press of his lips against yours and the sound of your breathings, echoing throughout the quiet of the room.

You pulled back slowly, just enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling at the same pace as his.

He didn’t say anything right away, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes, like he was trying to figure out if he had misread something.

Or if you were thinking the same thing.

“Stay,” you murmured after a long silence, your voice almost too soft, like you were testing the words.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his face a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“Not just until your wound is healed,” you added, your voice steadier now. “I mean it. Stay here. No one would even think to look for you in a place like this.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

“Whoever shot that arrow at you probably thinks you’re dead anyway,” you continued, leaning in just slightly. “Whoever did that, thinks they’ve won. No one’s coming after you anymore.”

His jaw tightened, and seeing his reaction made you think you had pushed too far.

His hand slipped from your face, trailing down to his side as he straightened his posture slightly.

“As if it’s really that simple,” he murmured, his voice quiet, almost bitter. “You really think I could just disappear? Forget everything?”

You met his gaze, still not giving up despite his unwillingness. “You don’t have to forget. But you could start over. Here. With me.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, Sukuna’s eyes drifting towards the ceiling, clearly lost in thought.

Finally, his lips twisted into a faint smirk. “I didn’t know nursing me back to health included a permanent residency,” he muttered, his voice softer than before, although it carried a teasing tone to it.

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you shrugged lightly, a small teasing smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He chuckled under his breath, a sound that felt warmer than any fire.

Slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“I’ll stay,” he said, the words carrying more weight than he probably intended.

You smiled, leaning back with a small sigh of relief. “Good,” you replied, your voice lighter, gesturing with your head towards the nightstand. “Now stop talking and finish your soup before it gets cold.’’

He shook his head, but the faintest hint of a genuine smile tugged at his lips as he picked up the bowl.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen fluff #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna

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holyspiritgirl · 6 months ago

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Studying biblical verses to read when struggling with spiritual warfare p.2 : Psalm 91

(NLT) Psa 91 - “Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the LORD: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him. For he will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease. He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night, nor the arrow that flies in the day. Do not dread the disease that stalks in darkness, nor the disaster that strikes at midday. Though a thousand fall at your side, though ten thousand are dying around you, these evils will not touch you. Just open your eyes, and see how the wicked are punished. If you make the LORD your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. For he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone. You will trample upon lions and cobras; you will crush fierce lions and serpents under your feet! The LORD says, “I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue and honor them. I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation.”

Psalm 91 is a powerful and comforting passage that speaks of God's protection and deliverance . Here’s a summary and explanation of its key themes:

• Promise of safety (verses 1-2) :

It is said that those who maintain a close, trusting relationship with God will find safety and rest under His protection. Our Lord is portrayed as a refuge and a shelter, providing security and comfort to those who are close to Him.

• Protection from dangers (verses 3-8) :

It is true that God promises to rescue from hidden dangers and deadly diseases. His protection is depicted as covering with feathers and sheltering under wings, symbolizing tender care and safety. In other words, it is said that the faithful are shielded from harm and deceit.

• Freedom from fear (verses 9-13) :

In fact, those who trust in God will not be overcome by evil or disease. Angels are assigned to guard and protect, reinforcing the idea of divine oversight. Therefore it is assured that harm will not reach those who make God their refuge.

• God’s response to faithfulness (verses 14-16) :

Certainly, God will deliver and honor those who love and trust Him. God will answer prayers, be present in trouble, and grant long life and salvation ; a divine reward for steadfast faith and trust.

• In summary, Psalm 91 promises that those who trust in the Lord will find safety and protection from dangers and fears. God will deliver them from harm, shield them with care, and honor their faithfulness with long life and salvation.

Have a Blessed day 🙏

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angeltreasure · 2 months ago

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Hello, if possible, may you please pray for me?

I seem to have such wicked thoughts about God- they last for a second but it's enough to worry me because I should never have such thoughts regarding our Lord

I love Him so much but I despise such dark thoughts, please pray that such dark thoughts go away

Psalm 91

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes

and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”

and you make the Most High your dwelling,

no harm will overtake you,

no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,

so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra;

you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

#asks #prayer request

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katerinaaqu · 6 months ago

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The Iliad Plague

Honestly I am disappointed at how little we talk about the Iliad plague that was sent by Apollo in the first rhapsody of the Iliad to the Greeks after Chryses, Apollo's priest, begged for justice for the disrespect Agamemnon showed him plus the fact that his daughter was not returned to him.

"First he stroke the mules and the swift dogs but then he shot his shafts to the humans themselves and the funeral pyres were burning non-stop and crowded and for nine days the army was being assaulted by the God's arrows"

(Translation by me)

So we basically get that the plague spread to animals first and then swiftly passed to humans and it became deadly very quickly.

It seems like a classic case of an assault of the bacteria Yersina which is responsible for three major plagues; the bubonic, septisemic and pneumonic plagues. All three seem to be associated with transmission from animals to humans. In this case my random guess would be that this would be the case or a pneumonic plague. It transmits from the breathing of fumes and it is much easier transmittable from one person to another given that both other plagues require the mix of bodily fluids. Since the disease seems to strike animals commonly not associated with food like mules or dogs it seems more probable the disease was of a lung nature.

The main symptoms of a pneumonic plague are:

Fever

Headaches

Shortness of breath

Chest pain

Intense coughing

Hemoptysis (aka "coughing out blood")

It seems indeed highly probable that the plague was of such nature which would lead to a large number of soldiers suffer from headaches and fever which gradually got worse and added coughing chest pain and coughing out blood (the other plagues have also intense vomiting-boubonic- and blood infection -septisemic-). Various post-homeric and mainly early Roman sources speak on the contributing of Palamedes suggesting better diet and exercise countering the effects of the plague or preventing it. Although traditionally we know plagues can be effectively cured with the use of antibiotics it is probable that the mention of cardio exercise could be a wink that a good cardio system can defend itself against lung diseases.

Either way it surprises me that the losses of war when studied rarely mention the results of this plague since many people count only the deaths in battle and not this which is ironically the only set of deaths seemingly affecting only the Greek side. It is interesting given how many times cities being surrounded by armies are the first to suffer from diseases rather than the people outside (although both sides suffer eventually from diseases). Realistically speaking we do understand why we see so many mentions of diseases.

And again when it comes to the sequel Odyssey as well, very few people consider not only the losses Odysseus undoubtedly suffered in battle but also one should expect he lost a man or two from the plague as well (mind you I can easily imagine some kings also being affected by it at least at early stage especially the less vigorous such as Nestor because of age or Menelaus if we take my headcannon that he probably was a bit frail of health later as I mentioned to the post tagging @thehelplessmortals which could indeed back up more how careful Helen was with him since plagues do affect massively the health of lungs or heart permanently

More vigorous and fighting fit characters like Achilles or Diomedes or Odysseus and Agamemnon seemed less likely to have been stroke by the plague. Achilles is also the one who calls upon council of kings to find a solution.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

During my collaboration with @artsofmetamoor I always entertain the thought of disease to the various war camps. Disease would often be the most common way soldiers died instead of battles.

In our stories our characters suffer a lot of many things but this also makes me do a note to self to refer more on plagues or diseases

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luniibelieves · 4 months ago

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God Saved Me

Looking back, it's incredible to consider how much turmoil entered my life through those who opposed me, challenging my faith. I've faced many trials, but it was only a few months back that I was hit with intense depression. The combination of being overworked, facing deceit, lies, and the loss of a loved one all at once was overwhelming. One day, this culminated in a panic attack while I was in the back room at work. Suicidal thoughts started creeping up on me. Telling me, "Everything will be easier if you just end it here and now."

But that "end it here and now" wasn't the conclusion of my tale. With every ounce of breath and strength remaining, I clasped my hands together and prayed.

"God, I'm struggling to breathe. Father, I beg you. Help me to breathe. Lift this weight from my chest so, I may breathe freely once more. In Jesus name I pray, Amen."

As I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath, a profound sense of relief swept through me. The weight on my chest lifted, freeing my breath once again. It was as though the chaos had never happened. I was surrounded by a sense of freedom, peace, and comfort. God not only eased my pain but also sent someone to my workplace. Coming up from behind, she tapped my shoulder gently and said, "I don't know what you're going through, and there's no need to tell me, but may I pray for you?" Looking up with hope, I agreed, "That would be lovely." She hugged me close and prayed aloud in front of my boss, my coworker, and other clients, as I found myself weeping on her shoulder. This marked the beginning of my complete faith that God was present, saving and protecting me. It was at that moment I chose to dedicate my life to Christ.

Since that time, my life has overflowed with joy, peace, and happiness, even though the enemy occasionally tempts me to revert to my old ways. As I strive to draw nearer to God and strengthen my relationship with Him, I witness more of His blessings in my life. No number of thank-yous or hallelujahs could adequately express the glory of His amazing presence. His love, patience, kindness, grace, mercy and so much more are unparalleled. All I can offer are my stories and testimonies of the greatness he has brought into my life, with the promise of more to follow.

The client who prayed for me left a Bible scripture to help me through life's trials and struggles, which I will share here for anyone in need.

Psalms 91:

"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely, he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent. “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

#journal #christianity #faith #bible #prayer

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castellankurze · 26 days ago

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Final Fantasy Tactics: The Kidnapping of Reis Duelar

Of late I've been following an LP of Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions, a game I never quite managed to find the time to play for myself and while I've been enjoying it immensely, I found myself sufficiently peeved at the suddenly and rather graceless moment of writing wherein dragonkin lady Reis gets abruptly kidnapped offscreen to prompt her fiance Beowulf to come riding to her rescue.

I felt like Reis deserved the chance to do some damage.

(AO3 link)

.........................

The wind that swept over the plains of Lionel was a chill one, but the lady that stood atop the battlements seemed unbothered by it. Though it ruffled her long skirts and blew her pale hair back from her face and shoulders, she showed no sign of discomfiture as her brown eyes scanned the horizon. It was strange, the lady reflected - strange to look over the vast expanse of Ivalice and see only the beauty of the land. One could take in such a sight for hours and never so much as think on the troubles that plagued the kingdom, troubles with which she had intimately become experienced. Troubles that reached up to claim her as she finally turned from the beautiful sight and made to follow her fiancé down the crumbling steps to the bottom of the hill.

As with many great troubles, it was first announced with a sound deceptively soft - the sizzle of a teleportation spell. "Your pardon."

Reis Duelar jolted to a halt mid-step, her nerves jangling. A moment ago she had been alone atop the battlement, but with the passing of an instant she had been joined by a unwelcome amount of equally unwelcome company - ten assorted men and women, most in the garb of thieves and assassins, a pair in the long robes ubiquitous to Ivalice's spellcasters, and one bedecked in armor and armed with sword and shield. This last seemed familiar to her, but he wasted no time on explanations: "take her."

The rogues surged forward, grasping hands outstretched, and Reis had time for little more than a hasty "what do you-? Release me!" A set of words that had been spoken time and again in Ivalice's history, the setting for many a hostage-taking amongst rich and poor alike, but a sharp-eared listener might have taken warning on this occasion - rather than fear, the woman in the dress spoke words colored by anger. Even as the kidnappers rushed her, the lady loosened her hold on the strap to the purse she carried and whipped it in an arc. It should have been some cruel jest, the last resort of the desperate lady of gentle breeding, but when the lovingly-crafted bag connected with the side of one man's head there was a sharp crack to the impact and that worthy dropped to the stone as neatly as it an arrow had found his heart.

Even as she struck him down, Reis was swarmed by the rest, arms curling around her limbs with a determination to pin the lady down. "Come on, love," said a woman on her right arm, "don't make this harder than it needs-"

If one might have asked the veteran thief what she saw at that moment, she might have described the pit that opened in her stomach watching the blonde woman's face turn her way, eyes shimmering with unearthly power as a dreadful light built from behind her teeth. Such words would have been the last coherent sounds one ever heard from the rogue, as a moment later her world was enveloped in flame that stole the very breath from her lungs, and the goal of taking the woman's arm was forgotten in favor of finding breath to scream. Behind her, the second rogue, who had grappled with Reis' wrist to ensure another swing of that deadly handbag could not follow, let go in haste to slap at the patches of flame that had washed over his comrade to find him in turn. Reis hauled in her left arm as much as she could and gracelessly punched with her right, a blow that found one woman's nose with a crack of bone and spray of blood.

Amidst the mounting chaos of what had supposed to have been a simple in-grab-out task, the man dressed as a knight elbowed the mage next him. "Well?"

That worthy shook his head to clear it and threw up both his hands. "Sleep!" he commanded.

Reis suddenly felt the world grow distant, dull as if a warm cloth had been wrapped around her head. Briefly disoriented, she stumbled back a step and wavered before, seething, she grit her teeth and growled, lifting one foot despite the way two of the attackers had tangled themselves in her long dress to seize her legs and putting it down to the result of a fresh crunch of bone and a yowl of pain from one of them.

"Sleep!" the mage emphasized, and from the other side of the watching knight his counterpart raised a hand and added "Stop."

Reis Duelar paused, wavered once more, managed one final glower through bleary eyes, and finally toppled to the ground with a crash not unlike a great redwood tree.

Aliste shook his head. "Take her. Go," he commanded. With the struggle ended he could hear the sound of clanging sabatons coming up the crumbling stone construction. The woman that had been burned was no longer screaming, and the man that had been first struck likewise lay silent on the ground. One of the living rogues sported a freshly broken nose, whilst another whimpered and favored the broken arm that had been stomped upon, and still a third remained busied slapping at patches of flame that were slowly losing the stubborn battle to remain alight. Still, it was all well as the mages performed the incantations to spirit away the entire mess of bodies, living and dead alike, leaving Aliste alone atop the battlements. He breathed in, breathed out a short breath, and cleared his throat as the familiar face of the knight came charging up the stairs.

"We meet again, Beowulf," he said calmly.

#Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy Tactics #War of the Lions #Reis Duelar #kurze writes

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hiswordsarekisses · 3 months ago

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When I hear people say “where was God?" Or they accusingly state: “God did this!" - I want to sit them down and ask them

“where were YOU?”

Were you making your home in Him?

Were you abiding in Him and trusting Him?

Or were you expecting Him to protect you from things that were meant to draw to call out to Him?

Why do you curse His name and ignore Him, yet expect Him to let you use Him to make sure you never experience anything bad?”

Because it does not work that way.

This is God’s universe. It works His way.

I was taking a look at the promises of God’s protection this morning after filling the last week or so of too much tragedy. I realized that a lot of people have not read the Bible and don’t know that God’s protection is not only ALWAYS an act of complete mercy - because He IS mercy - but also a consequence of our relationship with Him. . .

Protection does not always look the same to us as it looks to God either, because we are looking on with a limited human view. . . God is looking on from an eternal perspective - seeing the beginning from the end - He sees all the things we cannot see.

Protection can even look like a thousand different things that WE might SEE as tragedy.

I was studying psalm 91 again this morning and wanted to share the things that stuck out to me.

Verse one says that He who “dwells” in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

(This is to make the Lord your dwelling place - your home - remaining and abiding with Him. To be hiding yourself in Him - and to be so close to Him that you are constantly aware of Him as your constant companion.)

Verse two says: I will say to the Lord, “You are my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

(Great security is promised to believers in the midst of danger. God-given wisdom keeps them from being afraid without cause - even when there appears to BE cause - this causes faith that keeps them from being unduly afraid. They know that “whatever is done, our heavenly Father's will is done; and we have no reason to fear.” Which is the experience of the “peace that passes understanding.” - Matthew Henry)

(3)Surely He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly plague.

(The snare is a trap for catching birds. . . God will save him from the plans and attacks of wicked people, and is compared with the traps to catch birds. As far as pestilence (fatal diseases), He will either prevent it from coming upon you; or, he can save you from it affects, even while others are dying around you. This promise is not to be understood as absolute, or as meaning that no one who fears God will ever fall by the pestilence - good people "do" die at such times as well as bad people; but when a believer dies they are spared from evil and the trials of earth. God rejoices in the death of His people because they will no longer suffer.)

(4)He will cover you with His feathers; under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and rampart.

(This image suggests the spread-out, sheltering wing of God - it’s downy warmth and peaceful closeness to God’s heart - feeling and hearing the throbs of His parental love, as well as multitude of other happy privileges realised by those who nestle beneath that wing - His promise of protection. - MacLaren's Expositions)

(5)You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the calamity that destroys at noon.

(The sense of the verse is, that we will be kept from secret and open mischiefs of the wicked at all times. . . of spiritual arrows as well as actual material weapons. The idea is, that those who trust in God will be calm and unafraid - knowing our lot is secure no matter how it turns out because we know it will be within the perfect will of God. - Ellicott’s Commentary)

(7-8)Though a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, no harm will come near you. You will only see it with your eyes and witness the punishment of the wicked.

(This is very literal in every way - you will be safe, even though others were not - assured of divine protection - Because you have heeded His call and belong to Him. Our mind will be calm through a sense of His trustworthy and faithful guardianship. This is divine and not of the flesh. It is an unexplained peace - and being completely unafraid in the face of what would normally terrify. I just experienced this for the first time in my life!)

(9-13)Because you have made the Lord your dwelling — your refuge is in the Most High — no evil will befall you, no plague will approach your tent. For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. They will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and cobra; you will trample the young lion and serpent.

(This is key: “BECAUSE you have made Him your home and refuge. I have experienced this protection! When I was in Hawaii we went to a place called “Mermaid’s Cove” - it’s a secret beach inside a cave-like rock formation. When the tide is high, the only way in is DOWN through a hole in the rock on the top! It’s more of a drop through that hole than I had figured from looking down in there. I literally fell in lol! I dropped down in the hole expecting to land on my feet, and I’m not sure what happened, but I hit my head on the way down against the rock-side, as well as landing on my tailbone ON that rock on the bottom. When my son-in-law saw it happen he thought for sure I was dead. He had ptsd for a while from watching it lol! He did not believe I would walk out of there! And I never had the slightest sore spot on my head - and where I landed on my tailbone was just slightly bruised! I was literally without injury! I immediately thought of psalm 91 and I must have read that psalm 100 times over the following days!)

(14-16)Because he loves Me, I will deliver him; because he knows My name, I will protect him. When he calls out to Me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him My salvation.

(Here - the key - again. . . BECAUSE he loves me - BECAUSE he knows my name… The understanding of loving Him - according to Jesus - is found in John 14:15. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” - Now, this does NOT mean we have to be perfect - and never sin - in order to be protected - but the heart MUST be perfect toward God. To have a perfect heart is to have a genuine desire to please God, to desire to keep His commandments, desire to be transformed by Him and desire to not sin. In 2nd Chronicles 15 it tells all that Asa had done wrong - but then it says that “his heart was perfect!” That is because in spite of Asa’s failures, his heart genuinely desired wholeheartedly to please God - he was completely devoted to God above his own desires and will, genuinely desiring to to God’s will above all else - He sought first The Kingdom of God - desiring God’s ways to be his ways.

(His Words Are Kisses)

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walkswithmyfather · 1 year ago

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Psalm 91: Prayer Of Protection

“I dwell in the secret place of the Most High. I remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty [Whose power no foe can withstand]. The Most High is my refuge and my fortress. He is my God; on whom I lean, rely, and trust. Thus He will save me from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence, (example: Coronavirus).

He covers me with His feathers, and I find refuge under His wings. His truth and His faithfulness are my shield and buckler. I am not afraid of the terror of the night, nor of the arrow that flies by day. Neither am I afraid of the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at my side, and ten thousand at my right hand, but it will not come near me. The Most High is my habitation and my refuge, so no harm will befall me nor any plague or calamity come near me or my home. He commands his angels to go with, defend, and to preserve me at all times.

I love the Lord and I know that He loves me. He is merciful and kind to me. So I trust and rely on Him knowing He NEVER leaves me nor forsake me. He will deliver me and honor me.

When I call upon Him, He answers me and will be with me in trouble. He will bless me with a long and satisfying life and show me His salvation.”

In Jesus' name, Amen. 🙏

#prayer #christian prayer #power of prayer #bible #christian blog #god #belief in god #faith in god #jesus #belief in jesus #faith in jesus #encouragement #keep the faith #make him known #bible verses #bible study #biblequotes

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superman86to99 · 1 year ago

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Super Titles Round-Up (June 1994)

This month: Superboy fights Silver Sword (and the Clone Plague)! Steel fights his nephew! Brimstone fights alcoholism!

Superboy #5 (June 1994)

Introducing Silver "Don't Call Me Surfer" Sword. Superboy #4 ended with the Kid collapsing in his kitchen from the deadly virus that's running through the Superman books. In this issue, his friends take him to a Navy base so he can be transported to Project Cadmus in Metropolis, where they'll hopefully cure him. It's there that Dubbilex informs them there is no cure. Which sucks, but hey, at least the Kid gets his first consensual kiss out of it (courtesy of Tana Moon).

Rex Leech's tactful reaction is "There goes the best meal ticket we ever had, Roxy," but Roxy herself seems genuinely heartbroken about Superboy's likely death (and/or that kiss).

Anyway, the Navy can't send Superboy to Cadmus right away because they're bombing an island as part of some tests, but the tests are interrupted by a flying guy covered in silver metal. This is actually Dr. Kaua, the guy who got mad at Superboy for misplacing a magical spear in Superboy #3 because he wanted to use it to become Hawaii's first native superhero. Kaua later got his wish when he stumbled upon a mysterious receptacle that blew up on his face and bonded him with some sort of alien metal that gave him powers. He's now using those powers to get back at the Navy for bombing his beloved islands and the goats who live there.

Dubbilex thinks Superboy should sit this one out, given the whole "You're currently dying" thing, but of course he doesn't listen.

After a fierce fight, Superboy manages to knock Kaua out right before collapsing (again). Kaua, or Silver Sword as the Navy nicknames him, is locked up in a secret government base full of scientists who can't wait to cut him open, but Superboy's example inspires him to keep resisting them. The issue ends with Superboy and Dubbilex finally reaching Metropolis, only to find the city turned into a war zone, which leads right into Man of Steel #34.

Steel #5 (June 1994)

Steel's nephew Jemahl finds out that his gang members "friends" were the ones who shot a little kid, ran over his sister Natasha (she's okay, other than her leg), mugged his mom in an alley, and now plan to take out his grandma. Jem takes some of that Tar drug the gangsters have been using to become superhumanly jacked and intends to kill the leader of the gang, but he ends up fighting his disappointed uncle instead.

(Side note: This issue's cover should have been a remake of the Green Lantern/Green Arrow #85 one, but with a muscular Jemahl instead of Speedy the smackhead.)

Steel has to contain Mega-Jemahl until the drug wears off and the kid collapses. During the fight, John Henry learns that all the hits on his family aren't just an unfortunate coincidence: they were actually orchestrated by his old boss/mentor, the Colonel. As he holds Jemahl's body in a Pieta-like pose (lots of that going around these days), John swears that he's taking the Colonel down. Permanently.

This issue also features a seemingly non-sequitur appearance by Fred Bentson, that weird mailman guy we met in Man of Steel #34. Fred is dutifully driving his mail truck across war-torn Metropolis when a bomb goes off and causes him to hit head on the wheel. Suddenly, he finds himself in a completely different city called Dakota, where he's immediately hit by a truck and grabbed by some sort of shadow demon. Just as suddenly, Fred is back on Metropolis, getting saved from that explosion by Superman... who looks weirdly cheerful for someone who is currently watching the city he loves get blown to pieces (see Superman #90).

Incidentally, someone who looks just like Bentson also shows up in Milestone Comics' Hardware #16, which came out this same month and is set in a city called Dakota. What a curious coincidence.

The Ray #2 (June 1994)

Part 2 of the Superboy team-up, this time featuring some actual teaming up. Last issue, we left Superboy unconscious and Ray about to be smashed by that burning mountain man called Brimstone. Luckily, Brimstone suddenly decides to ditch the fight and go for a beer; apparently, a "defect" in his programming has turned him into a gigantic frat bro. Once he's alone, Ray feels bad about apparently killing Superboy and buries him under some rocks, but as we've established by now, nothing can keep that kid down.

At this point, DC's most prominent jacket-wearing, earring-sporting superheroes actually bond for a bit...

...before going off to prevent Brimstone from emptying every brewery in Hawaii. They come up with a plan to turn Brimstone off by dumping liquid nitrogen on him, but Superboy gets confused and accidentally douses the villain with a truck-load of orange juice, leading to the moment depicted in the cover in which Brimstone eats Ray. Superboy gets it right on his second attempt and Brimstone is neutralized before his fiery insides can digest Ray, but by now the teen heroes are back to arguing like a couple of, well, teens.

Gotta admit Superboy and Ray are a pretty fun pair in this issue. Can't wait for them to meet again in like 8 years, when Ray joins Young Justice!

Showcase '94 #6 (June 1994)

One of the stories in this issue is written by Karl Kesel and stars Sparx, the girl with lightning powers from Superboy's "Bloodlines" annual. Sparx's family disapproves of her decision to become a superhero, so she left them and went looking for an aunt who is also estranged from the clan. The most interesting parts of the issue are: 1) Sparx continuing to display powers that Superman will eventually gain when Kesel turns him electric (like intangibility), and 2) Captain Boomerang referring to the Flash as a "red wanker".

At one point, Boomerang manages to knock Sparx out, causing her to revert to her girl form. Upon noticing that she's "a young one," Boomerang creepily says: "Could be ol' Boomer'll get some pleasure out of the evenin' yet--!" The aunt then turns into a spider-like creature and almost kills Boomerang, but Sparx zaps her with energy to stop her. Sparx is like "Wait, you tried to kill that pervert who attacked me? This must mean you really are evil like the family says and also killed your husbands!", so they part ways. Sparx and her family will appear again in the future, but I don't think the aunt ever will. Good for her, they don't deserve her.

#superman #superboy #silver sword #dubbilex #tana moon #roxy leech #rex leech #clone plague #steel #fred bentson #the ray #brimstone #sparx #captain boomerang

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weheirsofdurin · 1 year ago

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😔published lines or a section of a fic that was super sad, angsty, or difficult to write?

There are two, simply because I ahve a really angsty one I wrote before I actually cared about Fili and Kili; and one I wrote while feeling very depressed myself.

It's so hard to chose what section to put here. The title of the Fic 1 is Never Kili Without Fili Nor Fili Without Kili by Verbophobic

Fandoms:The Hobbit - All Media Types

Explicit

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

No category

Complete Work

08 Feb 2018