#the side of deadly arrows and plagues

[lokean-mischief]

[chaos-in-shibuya]

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.

[holyspiritgirl]

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 🙏

[luniibelieves]

God Saved Me

Looking back, it’s crazy how much chaos came from people who were against me. They pushed my faith to the edge. A few months ago, everything hit at once—I was overworked, lied to, betrayed, and grieving someone I loved. One day at work, it all crashed down. I had a panic attack in the back room, and dark thoughts started creeping in like, “It’d be easier if you just ended it here and now.” But that wasn’t the end of my story. With whatever strength I had left, I folded my hands and prayed. No fancy words—just a raw, honest cry to God.

"God, I'm struggling to breathe. I beg you. Help me to breathe. Lift this weight from my chest so i can breathe please!”

As I wiped my tears and took a deep breath, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. The heaviness on my chest lifted, and for the first time in a while, I could breathe. It felt like the chaos had never happened. I was wrapped in peace, comfort, and this calm I couldn’t explain. Later that night, alone in my room, I prayed, “God… you’re real?” Lol.

The next day at work, I prayed in the bathroom, just asking God to help me get through the day. The anxiety was creeping back in. A little while later, I went to greet a client who had an appointment with my coworker. I smiled, said hi, and checked the appointment book. Then, out of nowhere, she walked up behind me, gently tapped my shoulder, and said, “Look, I don’t know what you’re going through, and you don’t have to tell me… but can I pray for you?” I looked at her with teary eyes and said, “That would be lovely.” She pulled me into a hug and started praying right there—in front of my boss, my coworker, and a room full of clients. And I just broke down on her shoulder. That moment changed everything. That’s when I knew God saw me. That He was real. And that He was saving me—right in the middle of my mess.

That was the day I gave my life to Christ.

Since that day, my life has been filled with a kind of joy, peace, and happiness I never thought I’d feel again. That’s not to say the enemy doesn’t still try to pull me back into old habits or mindsets—but now I know who I belong to. And the closer I get to God, the more I see His hand on my life. No amount of “thank You” or “hallelujah” could ever fully express how incredible His presence is. His love, His patience, His kindness, His grace, His mercy—it’s all unmatched. All I can do is keep sharing my story, the way He keeps showing up for me… and trust there’s still more to come.

The client who prayed for me shared a Bible verse to help me through life’s trials and struggles. I want to pass it on here—for anyone else who might need it, too.

Psalms 91 (NLT)

“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.”

[castellankurze]

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.

[hiswordsarekisses]

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)

[walkswithmyfather]

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. 🙏

[superman86to99]

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.

[forewerinmyheart]

Prayer for afternoon Sunday 🙏

14.01.2024. -4 °c degrees cold

Thank you so much Jesus that I got to church safely and I thank you that I could leave your house only in your holy glory and spread your name. Amen 🙏

Psalm 57:1

Have mercy on me, God, have mercy on me for in You my soul takes refuge. I will shelter in the shadow of Your wings until the danger is over . Amen 🙏

Psalm 91:1-7

Lord, You are my shelter and my fortress. My God, in whom I trust. You will save me from the deadly plague. You will cover me with Your feathers and under Your wings I will find shelter. Your faithfulness will be my shield and bulwark. I will not fear the terror of the night, nor by the arrow that flies by day nor from the plague that destroys at noon. A thousand may fall at my side, ten thousand at my right, but he won't come near me. Amen 🙏

Psalm 121:5-8

You watch over me. You are the shadow at my right hand, the sun will not harm me by day, nor the moon by night. You will protect me from all harm. You will watch over my life. You will watch over my departure and now and forever. Amen 🙏

Romans 8:31, 37-39

Neither death, nor demons, nor any power, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord .Amen 🙏

[the-perfect-author]

Psalms 91:1-16

[1] Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

[3] Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. [4] He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. [5] You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, [6] nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. [7] A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. [8] You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. [9] If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, [10] no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. [11] For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; [12] they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. [13] You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent. [14] “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. [15] He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. [16] With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

[zombetty666]

🧿I will heal from this darkness in a beautiful way. I will embrace my gifts. I will turn and face love and accept it in its entirety I will step into the light and bath in it. I will be gloriously liberated in loved. I will be free. 🧿

Surely They will save me

    from the fowler’s snare

    and from the deadly pestilence.

4 They will cover me with their feathers,

    and under Their wings I will find refuge;

    Their faithfulness will be my shield and rampart.

5 I will not fear the terror of night,

    nor the arrow that flies by day,

6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

    nor the plague that destroys at midday.

7 A thousand may fall at my side,

    ten thousand at my right hand,

    but it will not come near me.

8 I will only observe with your eyes

    and see the punishment of the wicked.

For She will command Her angels concerning me  to guard me in all my ways;

12 they will lift me up in their hands,

    so that I will not strike my foot against a stone.

She prepares a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies.

She anoints my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

6 Surely Her goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life.

In the name of the Mother, Maiden and Crone

Il Padre, Il Figlio, e Spirito Santo

Trinità è un solo Dio in tre persone

🧿Àse, Amen, So Mote it Be🧿

[tobie-van-heerden]

Trust in God.

Trust in God. He is faithful. You can depend on Him to be with you in the easier and the difficult times. He is with you to protect you against evil, He is with you to guide you in the right paths, He is with you to support and uphold you.

Deut 7:9 [WEB] Know therefore that Yahweh your God himself is God, the faithful God, who keeps covenant and loving kindness with them who love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations…

Deut 32:3, 4 [WEB] For I will proclaim Yahweh’s name. Ascribe greatness to our God! The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are just. A God of faithfulness who does no wrong, just and right is he.

Ps 23 [WEB] Yahweh is my shepherd: I shall lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup runs over. Surely goodness and loving kindness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in Yahweh’s house forever.

Ps 36:5 [WEB] Your loving kindness, Yahweh, is in the heavens. Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.

Ps 40:10 [WEB] I have not hidden your righteousness within my heart. I have declared your faithfulness and your salvation. I have not concealed your loving kindness and your truth from the great assembly.

Ps 89:1 [WEB] I will sing of the loving kindness of Yahweh forever. With my mouth, I will make known your faithfulness to all generations.

Ps 91 [WEB] He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of Yahweh, “He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers. Under his wings you will take refuge. His faithfulness is your shield and rampart. You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day; nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that wastes at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it will not come near you. You will only look with your eyes, and see the recompense of the wicked. Because you have made Yahweh your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place, no evil shall happen to you, neither shall any plague come near your dwelling. For he will put his angels in charge of you, to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up in their hands, so that you won’t dash your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and cobra. You will trample the young lion and the serpent underfoot. “Because he has set his love on me, therefore I will deliver him. I will set him on high, because he has known 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. I will satisfy him with long life, and show him my salvation.”

Ps 100:5 [WEB] For Yahweh is good. His loving kindness endures forever, his faithfulness to all generations.

Ps 117:2 [WEB] For his loving kindness is great toward us. Yahweh’s faithfulness endures forever. Praise Yah!

1Thess 5:23, 24 [WEB] May the God of peace himself sanctify you completely. May your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful, who will also do it.

2Thess 3:3 [WEB] But the Lord is faithful, who will establish you and guard you from the evil one.

Heb 3:6 [WEB] but Christ is faithful as a Son over his house. We are his house, if we hold fast our confidence and the glorying of our hope firm to the end.

Heb 10:23 [WEB] let’s hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering; for he who promised is faithful.

1Pet 4:19 [WEB] Therefore let them also who suffer according to the will of God in doing good entrust their souls to him, as to a faithful Creator.

1John 1:9 [WEB] If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us the sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Rev 1:5, 6 [WEB] and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us, and washed us from our sins by his blood—and he made us to be a Kingdom, priests to his God and Father—to him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.

Rev 3:14 [WEB] “To the angel of the assembly in Laodicea write: “The Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of God’s creation, says these things…

Rev 19:11 [WEB] I saw the heaven opened, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it is called Faithful and True. In righteousness he judges and makes war.

[witchesbetwixt]

The Pagan Psalm 91

Hey guys, gals and others! Rue here with my first contribution to the Grimoire. For some background, I HAD (important past tense there) a malevolent spirit attached to me for as long as I can remember. He used to appear in my dreams and terrify me before I even realized what Magick was.

He was attached to my multiple traumas that I have experienced and it took me 31 years to realize that I had developed a sort of Stockholm Syndrome to this entity and thought I truly deserved no happiness or relief from my mental illnesses. Thanks to Magick and my wonderful hubby who introduced me to it, I was able to exorcise this spirit by Bell, Book and Candle and finally be free to truly grow into the amazing Witch I am today.

For the Book portion of the exorcism, I can only say I received “divine” intervention from my Patroness Lilith. Having been indoctrinated into the Catholic Church as a wee babe, and living through 16 years of Catholic education, Psalm 91 always spoke to me more than other scripture. So I decided to edit this Psalm in honor of my Patroness and with her assistance I was able to break free from my trauma bonds.

So enough rambling! On to the Prayer!

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the other will rest in the shadow of Lilith. I will say of them, “They are my refuge and my fortress, my Goddess, in whom I trust.”

Surely, they will save me from the hunter’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.

They will cover you with their feathers, and under their wings you will find refuge; their faithfulness will be my sword and shield. I 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 their side, ten thousand at their right hand, but it will not come near me. I will only observe with their eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you say, “Lilith is my refuge,” and you make Witchcraft your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. For they will command their legions 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 the stone. No evils may move against you and yours.

“Because they love me” says Lilith, “I will rescue them; I will protect them, for they acknowledge my name. They will call on me, and I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will deliver them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them and show them my salvation.”

[fordecree7]

THE BIBLE BOOK OF GOD

Old Testament

Psalm 91

My Refuge and My Fortress

91 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High     will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. 2 I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,     my God, in whom I trust.”

3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler     and from the deadly pestilence. 4 He will cover you with his pinions,     and under his wings you will find refuge;     his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. 5 You will not fear the terror of the night,     nor the arrow that flies by day, 6 nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,     nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side,     ten thousand at your right hand,     but it will not come near you. 8 You will only look with your eyes     and see the recompense of the wicked.

9 Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—     the Most High, who is my refuge— 10 no evil shall be allowed to befall you,     no plague come near your tent.

11 For he will command his angels concerning you     to guard you in all your ways. 12 On their hands they will bear you up,     lest you strike your foot against a stone. 13 You will tread on the lion and the adder;     the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

14 “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;     I will protect him, because he knows my name. 15 When he calls to me, I will answer him;     I will be with him in trouble;     I will rescue him and honor him. 16 With long life I will satisfy him     and show him my salvation.”

Psalm 91

Diane Beauford

[hiswordsarekisses]

Micah‬ ‭6‬:‭8‬‬

“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭1‬

“Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; for the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.”

Psalm‬ ‭23‬

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Psalm‬ ‭91‬

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor the destruction that wastes at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only look with your eyes and see the recompense of the wicked. Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place— the Most High, who is my refuge— no evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the adder; the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot. “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.””

Psalm‬ ‭121‬

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”

Psalm‬ ‭127‬

“Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13‬

~ Paul’s Love Song ~

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

Psalm‬ ‭37‬:‭1‬-‭40‬

~ Read Often ~

“Fret not yourself because of evildoers; be not envious of wrongdoers! For they will soon fade like the grass and wither like the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness. Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act. He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices! Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath! Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil. For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land. In just a little while, the wicked will be no more; though you look carefully at his place, he will not be there. But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace. The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes his teeth at him, but the Lord laughs at the wicked, for he sees that his day is coming. The wicked draw the sword and bend their bows to bring down the poor and needy, to slay those whose way is upright; their sword shall enter their own heart, and their bows shall be broken. Better is the little that the righteous has than the abundance of many wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but the Lord upholds the righteous. The Lord knows the days of the blameless, and their heritage will remain forever; they are not put to shame in evil times; in the days of famine they have abundance. But the wicked will perish; the enemies of the Lord are like the glory of the pastures; they vanish—like smoke they vanish away. The wicked borrows but does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives; for those blessed by the Lord shall inherit the land, but those cursed by him shall be cut off. The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand. I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread. He is ever lending generously, and his children become a blessing. Turn away from evil and do good; so shall you dwell forever. For the Lord loves justice; he will not forsake his saints. They are preserved forever, but the children of the wicked shall be cut off. The righteous shall inherit the land and dwell upon it forever. The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks justice. The law of his God is in his heart; his steps do not slip. The wicked watches for the righteous and seeks to put him to death. The Lord will not abandon him to his power or let him be condemned when he is brought to trial. Wait for the Lord and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land; you will look on when the wicked are cut off. I have seen a wicked, ruthless man, spreading himself like a green laurel tree. But he passed away, and behold, he was no more; though I sought him, he could not be found. Mark the blameless and behold the upright, for there is a future for the man of peace. But transgressors shall be altogether destroyed; the future of the wicked shall be cut off. The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; he is their stronghold in the time of trouble. The Lord helps them and delivers them; he delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in him.”

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Part 30/53

"I choked / on such longing I couldn't spit out. Yes, desire is so different / when God bore you hungry." - Yves Olade

Masterlist

Gwen walked beside Leliana through Denerim’s main town square, the rogue’s face an impassive mask that revealed none of the torment Gwen knew to be raging within. It was as if all colour and dimension had drained from the bard, leaving her a faded silhouette of herself.

It had been less than an hour since they had confronted Marjolaine, Leliana's former mentor. Marjolaine had taught Leliana the ways of the bard before using her in a ruthless political ploy. And now, after years apart, Marjolaine had resurfaced - intent on killing Leliana to keep her secrets buried.

The fight had been quick and brutal. Leliana had moved with deadly precision, losing arrows into Marjolaine's Guild associates before turning on Marjolaine herself. Gwen had watched as Leliana buried an arrow in Marjolaine's throat, a spurt of red blooming like a gruesome flower. Marjolaine had looked at Leliana then, her eyes wide with shock as she choked on her own blood. Leliana had merely stared back, her face impassive as she watched the life drain from her former mentor.

Now Leliana seemed almost… hollow, as if she had left a piece of herself behind in that little house. Gwen understood all too well the pain of confronting one's past and the scars it left. She longed to reach out to Leliana, to let her know she did not have to suffer alone. But the words stuck in Gwen's throat, her own damage keeping her frozen. What could she even say in this situation? I’m sorry you had to kill someone you used to love? It was insufficient.

For now, they still had a job to do. Comforting could wait until later, when Leliana had had a moment to process and make sense of her feelings. Gwen knew the value of taking time to gather one's thoughts, to untangle the complex web of feelings swirling around in one’s mind. It was like sifting through a pile of puzzle pieces, searching for which would fit just right. Only then could clarity be found amidst the chaos.

Their next task was to check in on Darcy's family, a duty that should have been simple. But as always, fate seemed to have other plans for their party.

Gwen's eyes tracked Darcy as he strode up to the gate leading into the alienage, his usual swagger replaced with hurried steps. His leather boots pounded against the cobbled ground, stirring up dust and small pebbles in his wake. The two guards, their armour gleaming in the afternoon sun, crossed their halberds in front of the gate, barring his entry. Gwen could see the tension in Darcy's shoulders as he approached them, his jaw set in determination. They had come to Denerim to assess the political situation before heading to Ostagar and finally back to Redcliffe - though Gwen suspected it had something to do with the sudden lack of communication Darcy had received after they had headed to Haven.

"Halt, elf," the burlier of the two guards growled. "No one is permitted inside until the plague has run its course."

Darcy came to a halt, blinking in surprise. His brows furrowed and his lips peeled back in a silent snarl. "I have family in there," he said curtly. "Step aside."

The second guard shook his head, his ill-fitting helmet rattling about. "Can't do it. Orders from the Teryn. No exceptions."

Gwen tensed, sensing the storm brewing in Darcy. His family was here, and if a plague had broken out... She knew how deeply he cared, no matter how aloof he pretended to be.

"I don't care if all the Archdemons in the void are raging inside, you will let me pass," Darcy demanded, voice low and hard as steel.

“Watch it, knife-ear.” The burly guard said, standing tall and unwavering. Gwen felt a snarl of her own build in her throat, her hands itching towards the daggers at her side. The slur was not welcomed, and their entire party seemed to harden their stand.

Darcy's fists clenched tightly at his sides as he took a determined step forward. The guards wasted no time in lowering their Halberds, The sharp points of the weapons were directed towards him, a clear warning to stay back.

Alistair stepped forward and put a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Whoa there, let's not do anything rash," he said gently. "I'm sure these… gentlemen are just following orders to keep everyone safe."

Darcy tensed under Alistair's touch, still poised for a fight. Alistair hated this as much as any of Darcy’s other companions, but if a fight broke out now, they’d only end up captured and at the mercy of a Teryn who’d much rather aid them in meeting a swift end.

After a tense moment, Darcy reluctantly relaxed his fists.

"You're right," he muttered to Alistair, rolling his shoulders back. "Wouldn't want to cause a scene and upset their delicate sensibilities.”

Darcy's eyes bore into the guards, his gaze intense and unwavering. With a sharp pivot on his heel, he turned away in one swift movement, leaving behind an air of silent defiance. His determination radiated from every inch of his body as he made sure to speak loudly enough for the guards to hear. "I suppose we'll just have to go visit your sister instead, my friend.” He patted Alistair on the back. “At least one of us can see their family while we're here."

Gwen released a small, relieved breath, grateful that a confrontation had been avoided. She could see the despair in Darcy's eyes that he tried so avidly to disguise. He cared for his family and she couldn’t imagine how powerless he must feel being unable to help them now. She wished she could offer him some words of comfort, but they

empty and meaningless in the face of such a devastating situation. The only thing they could do was return once the plague had run its course, and pray his family remained safe behind the barricaded gates.

Unfortunately, the long-awaited meeting with Alistair's sister did not go as smoothly as they had hoped, yet another disaster they faced that day.

Darcy had attempted to comfort Alistair after, a pat on his broad shoulders and words of comfort that he hadn’t done anything wrong and most people weren’t like that. Darcy and the rest of their party were his true friends, though Morrigan may have been an exception to that. A faint glimmer of comfort appeared in his honey-coloured eyes, but there was still a heavy sense of sadness that weighed on his slumped shoulders as they made their way to the inn that night.

Leliana hadn’t joined them for dinner, instead disappearing into the night with a promise to return come morning. Alistair had pushed his food around his plate, uncharacteristically unenthusiastic about food, before excusing himself.

And so she found herself, fist raised and ready to knock on his door, unsure if he desired solitude or company. Would he rather it be Darcy who came to comfort him, or a maternal figure like Wynne perhaps? 

She’d found herself in this position once before, memories flooding back of a night that now felt like eons ago, but in reality had only been a few months. That night in Redcliffe after Isolde had scolded him had been the first time she’d let herself be near him without pulling away entirely. It had been the start of a slippery slope that had somehow ended up with her in his arms, his lips against hers. She’d never considered herself lucky, but she was willing to reconsider. 

She didn’t let herself think on it any further, her fist rapped against the sturdy, wooden door. Last time had been a success, so why shouldn't it be this time? Footsteps padded towards the door before it swung open, revealing Alistair on the threshold. His broad shoulders were slumped and his normally bright eyes were now red-rimmed as if he had been crying. Had he been up here crying on his own the entire time she deliberated going after him? 

Gwen's stomach twisted into knots as she tried to speak, but Alistair's strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close against his chest. She hesitated for a moment, her mind struggling to catch up, before relaxing into his embrace, tracing soothing circles across his back. He sniffled and the sounds of hushed conversations and footsteps could be heard approaching down the hallway. With a gentle push, Gwen guided them further into the room before swiftly closing the door behind them, creating a peaceful bubble of privacy away from the outside world. 

His warm breath caressed her ear as it flowed down the length of her hair. His hands, much larger than hers, held on to the back of her tunic with a firm grip, pulling her closer to him as if he wanted their bodies to merge into one being. In this embrace, they stayed, Gwen remaining silent and patient as she let him gather his thoughts. She felt content and safe in his arms, knowing there was nowhere else she'd rather be in that moment. There was no need to rush him, this was what she came here for.

A nervous energy emanated from him as he cleared his throat, subtly shifting away from her. She steadied herself and took a step back to fully take in his bashful expression. A faint pink hue dusted his cheeks, adding a touch more colour to his tanned skin. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding meeting her gaze.

“Sorry, I, uh, I shouldn’t have just… snatched you up like that. You know me and my big grabby hands.” He smiled apologetically, making a grabbing motion with his hands for emphasis. Gwen’s head shook, dropping her pack off her shoulder and beside the door - she had yet to make it to her room to stow it away - and reached out to hold his hands in hers,

“Don’t apologize,” she stepped closer, cupping his cheek in her hand, revelling in how he leaned into her touch, “I only wish I could do more.” 

It was his turn to shake his head, the stubble on his cheek lightly scratching her palm with his movement, “There’s nothing more you could have done. My sister… wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for.” 

“No, I wouldn’t imagine she was.”

Alistair sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping even further, making him look smaller, younger almost, but weary beyond his years. “Maybe family just isn’t for me.” He forced a pained smile across his face, though it didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Family can be what you choose it to be. I always thought of Lucy as a sister. Maybe you could make our friends your family.” Gwen wiped her thumb across his cheekbone. It was still strange to her, to be allowed so close to him, to touch him like this. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer and she felt like her heart may flutter out of her chest. 

He rested his forehead against hers. “I think I would like that.” He brought his hand up to hold her face through the fabric of her bandana. “I would really like to kiss you now, but I’m afraid there’s something in the way.” 

Of course, he’d already seen her without the bandana, but since their arrival in the city the evening after they’d shared their first kiss, she had kept it firmly in place. The soft fabric hugged her face like a second skin, obscuring her features and adding an air of mystery to her appearance. As she hesitated, his eyes crinkled in a gentle smile and he leaned down to quickly place a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, still hidden under the worn fabric. The warmth of his lips seeped through the material, sending shivers down her spine.

“How many times must I tell you how beautiful you are before you believe me.” His smile tilted to become a lopsided grin. “Don’t think I wasn’t serious when I said I’d shout it from the rooftops, and unlike the forest, there are plenty of rooftops here primed for shouting.” 

Gwen huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes before pulling down the bandana if only to get him to stop, angling her face away from him as though that could hide her face from him. “You better—“ 

His lips met hers before she was able to complete her sentence, all thoughts melting away. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her body from where his hand rested on the small of her back, sending tingling sensations that seemed to make time stand still. She forgot everything else- the chaos of the city, the danger they were in, the Calling that never ceased. All that mattered was Alistair and the way he made her feel.

He tasted of fresh bread from his abandoned dinner and it only added to the sweetness of the moment. She couldn't resist letting out a soft sigh, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as she melted into him.

Alistair deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking against her lips, begging for entrance, which she happily allowed. Their movements melded together in a perfect dance, it was as if they had been crafted for this moment, this kiss. Alistair's desire and longing were evident in the way his lips moved against hers, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't ignore. As his hands roamed over her back, pulling her firmly to him, Gwen surrendered completely, unable to resist the intense connection between them. She yearned for more of his touch, delighting in the overwhelming passion that consumed them both.

The intensity of their kiss had left them both gasping for air, struggling to catch their breath. As they finally pulled away from each other, Gwen could feel Alistair's chest heaving against hers, their foreheads pressed together in a moment of shared vulnerability. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the space between them, mingling with the pounding of their hearts as they tried to calm themselves down. The heat radiating from their bodies only added to the palpable tension in the air.

“Stay with me.” Alistair’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of a plea. It was not a command, nor a suggestion, but simply a wish, uttered by a man who’d lost the last connection to his family, his last hope. Gwen watched him, seeing the ache in his eyes. This man who hid his pain behind jokes had just bared a vulnerability she found both frightening and endearing. Did he truly trust her enough to bear his heart to her?

With a gentle touch, he brushed aside a stray lock of her moon-pale hair, revealing the delicate curve of her cheek. His fingers traced the slits that ran up to her cheekbones, following their paths with care and tenderness. Gwen's breath caught in her throat, overwhelmed by the unexpected warmth and affection in his touch.

The moment stretched between them, soft and warm like candlelight.

"Stay with me.” He repeated. “Please. I...just don't want to be alone right now. I mean, not that you have to. You're free to go, of course. I wouldn't want to keep you if you've got other, uh, things you need to attend to."

Gwen silenced his rambling with a chaste kiss. "I'll stay," she whispered against his lips. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin and a new kind of warmth spread through her at the thought that she had caused it.

Alistair gazed back at her with a mixture of surprise and relief. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice catching slightly.

Gwen's lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned into him, relishing the feeling of being close to someone without any fear or discomfort. It was astonishing how at ease she felt with Alistair, considering she had always kept people at arm's length, too afraid of getting hurt again to let anyone in. But with him, it felt different - safer, like she could lower her guard and just be herself. Though she wasn't entirely sure who that was yet, being around Alistair made her want to discover more about herself. It was a strange and unfamiliar concept, but one that intrigued her nonetheless.

Gwen's heart raced as Alistair took her hand and led her towards the bed, the only furnishing in his otherwise spartan quarters. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach , this was uncharted territory for her - intimacy and trust did not come easily to her.

Alistair sat down on the bed, the old frame creaking under his weight. He pulled her towards him until she stood between his legs. Gwen inhaled sharply as Alistair wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her even closer. She tensed reflexively before relaxing into his embrace, her hands coming to rest lightly on his broad shoulders.

Alistair smiled up at her, his eyes warm with affection. Slowly, he coaxed her down until she straddled his lap, her knees sinking into the lumpy mattress on either side of his hips. Gwen's breath caught in her throat at their sudden closeness, a fierce blush staining her pale cheeks. She started to pull back self-consciously but Alistair's arms tightened around her.

"It's just me," he murmured. "Just us."

Gwen nodded, the rapid pounding of her heart beginning to slow. This affection was still new, still a little frightening, but she trusted Alistair. She knew he would never push her faster or further than she was ready to go.

With a playful grin, Alistair suddenly fell sideways, rolling them both across the narrow bed. Gwen yelped in surprise, then laughed as they tumbled in a tangle of limbs until Alistair lay on his back with her sprawled on top of him. His hands came up to stroke her hair back from her face and she sighed contentedly, relaxing into the warmth and safety of his embrace.

For once, the ever-present worries in Gwen's mind grew still and quiet. Here, cradled against Alistair's broad chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she felt like she was finally home.

She was acutely aware of Alistair's body beneath hers, his warmth radiating towards her. She felt hyper-focused on each point of contact between them - their interlaced fingers, chests pressed together, legs tangled. It was all so new, both exhilarating and terrifying. What would happen if she let herself get too close?

For a moment, they simply lay there in silence, the steady thump of Alistair's heartbeat and rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing to Gwen. This was all still so new between them, but she couldn't deny how right it felt to be here in this moment.

After a while, Alistair cleared his throat softly. "Thank you for this," he murmured. "For staying. I know things with my sister were...well, I'm glad you were here." He exhaled slowly. “It’s just got me thinking, about family and all that messy stuff.”

Gwen stretched up to kiss him once more, and when she spoke her breath ghosted against his lips, “I’d give her a…stern talking to, if that would make you happy.”

A soft chuckle left his throat. “That may just be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” The sarcasm had made its return. “But though I know you do sincerely mean it - which I find mildly alarming how okay I am with that - it would not make me happy. I do not wish Goldanna any ill will.”

Gwen smiled wryly, shaking her head. "You're too gracious for your own good, you know that?"

Alistair laughed, the sound rumbling pleasantly between them. "That does seem to be the consensus, yes."

His long fingers traced soothing lines up and down her arm, distracting her enough that all she could do was hum to signal that she was paying attention. Thankfully, that was all Alistair needed to continue.

“When I was young I had this amulet with Andraste’s Holy Symbol on it and these beautiful blue gems - the only thing I had of my mother’s so you might assume I took very good care of it.” He chuckled lightly, devoid of humour, the bitter tang of regret heavy in the air. “When Eammon told me I was to be sent to the Chantry I was so furious I threw it and it shattered against the wall. A stupid, stupid thing to do.” 

Gwen froze, her mind going blank, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. Surely it couldn’t be… but it had been in Eammon’s study, tucked in the back like a precious but long-forgotten memento.

Her heart raced as she slipped out of his embrace, ignoring his protests and confusion.

“Gwen? Did I say something wrong?” He called after her as she dug in her pack. She turned to him and shook her head, unable to find the words but not wanting to leave him believing he’d made a mistake.

His face softened with relief, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Going back to searching through her bag, she felt a sense of gratitude for the few possessions she had. She had made sure to keep the amulet safe, knowing that one day it could provide her with much-needed funds. But at that moment, she was beyond thankful that she hadn't sold it. 

As her fingers closed around the cool metal chain, she breathed a sigh of relief. With care, she pulled out the heavy amulet, holding it carefully in her palm and returning to sit at the edge of the bed. Alistair pushed himself up to sit beside her. Her eyes scanned his face intently as she angled her hand for him to see what she held. She watched as astonishment filled his gaze. His jaw slackened and wonder lit up his features.

“Is this the amulet? I found it in the Eamon’s study when I was… perusing.” Stealing was more like it, but she didn’t feel the need to rehash what he already knew.

Tentatively, Alistair picked the amulet off of her palm and cradled the pendant in his hand, studying it, “I suppose there could have been others, but I’ve never seen one like it, and this one looks old, just like I remember. The Arl must have found it after I threw it at the wall and had it fixed. He came to visit me a few times in the Chantry shortly after I’d been sent but I was so mad I refused to see him and he stopped trying. I wonder…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

“If he would have given you the amulet himself.” She finished for him.

Alistair nodded, “Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes shining with gratitude, “I mean it, I thought I’d lost this to my own stupidity. I’ll have to talk to him when we return to Redcliffe. I wish I’d seen him all those years ago, if my stubbornness hadn’t gotten in my own way, maybe I would have had this already.” 

Gwen decided it was better to keep her hateful thoughts about the Arl to herself for the time being. “So you aren’t against my thievery as long as it benefits you.” Gwen deadpanned, hoping to distract him from thoughts of Eamon. She had meant to make it as a joke, but that was much more Alistair’s skill set than hers. Still, he chuckled and Gwen’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I suppose I can forgive you just this once.” The corners of Alistair’s eyes crinkled and Gwen felt a heaviness lift off her heart.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "For listening, for being here...for everything."

Gwen's breath caught in her throat as she gazed up into Alistair's warm brown eyes. They seemed to hold a thousand emotions, swirling and intertwining like ribbons in the wind. The world around them faded away until there was only the two of them, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window and highlighting the pale strands of Gwen's hair.

She opened her mouth to reply but found herself speechless, lost in the intensity of his gaze. Before she could form any words, Alistair closed the distance between them and pulled her into an enthusiastic kiss. Her body tensed at first in surprise, but then she relaxed into his embrace as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that matched her own.

His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as they lost themselves in the moment. All the unspoken words and tensions between them seemed to melt away with each passionate touch.

When they finally broke apart, their chests heaving, Alistair gazed at her with such raw adoration that it made her heart ache. She had only a split second of warning, a mischievous grin lighting up his face, before he’d tightened his grip around her waist and flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling her with him once more. This time she managed to suppress her startled yelp, planting her hands on either side of his head to stop their faces from smashing together. Their bodies pressed together, legs tangled, and Gwen would have had it no other way.

Planting a kiss on the flat tip of her nose, he said, “Getting me gifts to get me into bed, are you? You truly are shameless, Gwen.”

She rolled her eyes, huffing her discontent, but it did nothing to stop his continued teasing.

“I never pegged you as the type, but I suppose if the shoe—”

She silenced him with another searing kiss, her fingers lightly scratching against his scalp as she carded her fingers through his hair. With a low groan, Alistair tightened his arms her waist like he wanted her to be closer, to meld with him until there existed no space between them. They lost themselves in each other - kissing fiercely, hands roaming, bodies pressed together. Gwen felt like she was on fire and didn't want this moment to end. She wanted it to last forever - just the two of them alone in this little bubble.

Gwen reluctantly pulled away, her heart pounding. She gazed up at Alistair, taking in his mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips. A swell of affection rose in her chest at the tender look in his eyes.

"We should get some rest," she said softly.

Alistair nodded, a crooked smile spreading across his face. "I suppose you're right."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Gwen closed her eyes, comforted by the familiar brush of his lips.

They settled into the old bed, Gwen nestling herself into the strong curve of Alistair's broad chest. His arms enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth and safety. She breathed him in, the rich scent of leather and steel mingled with the earthy musk of his skin.

Gwen let herself relax completely in him, feeling the steady thud of his heart against her cheek like a comforting lullaby. As clouds drifted across the sky, obscuring the moon's glow, she focused on the rise and fall of Alistair's chest, finding solace in its rhythm.

For once, the darkness that plagued her mind faded into nothingness. The demons that tormented her retreated into the shadows. Here, in Alistair's arms, Gwen finally found a sense of peace.

Next Chapter

A/N: And the relationship progresses! I'd love to hear what people are thinking of the beginnings of their relationship :)

I only have 2.5 chapters left to draft and I can hardly believe it! You may notice the chapter count changed again, I couldn't help but add more of these two :)

I’ll be posting 3-4 times a week once all the drafts are done and I have more time for editing the chapters, so next chapter will be up on Saturday or Sunday!

I wrote the epilogue draft today and it healed my heart after writing some… other things that aren't so happy. Apologies in advance.