#HE will NEVER leave Nor Forsake You

[thewordfortheday]

For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:13

We can draw such comfort from these words! All loneliness, all fear is washed away when you know that the Creator God is with you even in the most terrifying of life's situations. The wind and the waves obey Jesus. He is the Lord over them all. Who is man that He is mindful of. He promises to hold us and help us out of this devastating storm. Why are you downcast O my soul. Your Heavenly Father is on your side. He will never leave you nor forsake you.

[banishedchildofeve]

♡.‧₊˚ Bible verses to remind you of your worth :

౨ৎ Psalm 139:13-14 : “For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; yours works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

౨ৎ Hebrews 13:6 : “So we say with confidence, ‘the Lord is my helper, I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?’”

౨ৎ Jeremiah 29:11 : “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’”

౨ৎ Proverbs 31:25 : “She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.”

౨ৎ 1 Timothy 4:12 : “Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.”

౨ৎ Deuteronomy 31:8 : “the Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged.”

౨ৎ Jeremiah 17:7 : “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.”

౨ৎ Philippians 4:13 : “I can do all through him who gives me strength.”

౨ৎ Philippians 4:6-7 : “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ.”

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

[faithfullyfound]

This! In life, we must remember to walk with God and trust in His plan for our life. He will never leave nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5). So when we put our trust in Him we shouldn't worry about what we cannot see because know that He's intentional and is already working for us.

[cephalosaur]

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6

[walkswithmyfather]

2 Timothy 2:13 (CEV). “If we are not faithful, he will still be faithful. Christ cannot deny who he is.”

Joshua 21:45 (ERV). “The Lord kept every promise that he made to the Israelites. There were no promises that he failed to keep. Every promise came true.”

Hebrews 13:8 (NIV). “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”

Matthew 6:8b (NLT). “...your Father knows exactly what you need even before you ask him!”

Deuteronomy 31:8 (NIV). “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”

Amen! 🙏🕊️🙌

[jessamine-rose]

˖⋆˚♱ଘ Angel’s Tears ଓ♱˚⋆˖

*cries* I thought I was done with Church AU after Priest! Dottore yet here I am with more unholy ideas. Welp, Guardian Angel! Capitano x Nonbeliever! Darling, here we go (；ω；)

Tw:: yandere, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 3.8k words under the cut ♡

♡ From the moment of their creation, angels are classified into the Nine Orders. This hierarchy determines their roles in Heaven and Earth, with higher ranks assigned greater levels of power and authority. A special exception is The Strongest Angel, an individual who is neither a Seraph nor an angel from the First Sphere. Rather, the moniker belongs to Il Capitano, the leader of the Powers.

♡ The legitimacy of his title has never been questioned. As a warrior angel, Capitano’s purpose is to vanquish evil. He is the chivalrous knight in bloodstained armor, the nigh-invincible being who strikes fear into the hearts of demons, the ever-righteous angel bound by a paradoxical duty to partake in violence for the sake of everlasting peace.

♡ It is in a small town in Mondstadt, following his victory over a legion of demons, that Capitano encounters you. It is the hour of mass yet you are nowhere near the Church; rather, you have taken sanctuary in a secluded meadow. A book sits on your lap, not a religious text but a tale of dark fantasy. There is a saintlike quality to your countenance, an air of melancholy as delicate as the flowers which surround you.

✿ ⚘

The moment Capitano appears before you, all peace leaves the meadow.

No, this isn’t right. It is normal for humans to feel fear in the divine presence of angels, yet he is donning his human guise. Nonetheless, as soon as his shadow touches your form, you look up and suppress a shriek, your face losing its veil of apathy.

So what exactly did he do wrong?

For your benefit, he remains rooted to his spot. Clarity comes in the form of your gaze flitting to your book, its title printed on the cover in conspicuous letters, the whispers which leave trembling lips.

“I…I can explain! This book—it’s just fiction! There are no real curses or spells inscribed in the text; it doesn’t promote any form of blasphemy!”

Ah, now he understands. You weren’t afraid of him.

Carefully, Capitano takes a step forward and raises his hand in a calming gesture. A gentle expression adorns his false face.

“Be not afraid.”

✿ ⚘

♡ It doesn’t take long for him to understand your wariness. A glimpse into your soul, paired with your quiet explanation, tells the story of an orphan raised by the Church. Only, your Church is one of many founded on distorted beliefs, of violence preached in the name of a cruel god. As a result, your upbringing was marked by strict rules, corporal punishments, and sermons which painted the image of a hopeless child with a weakness for temptation.

♡ Knowing this, Capitano can’t fault you for forsaking God and your Church. Still in his human guise, he promises his silence and leaves the meadow. But once he returns to Heaven, his first course of action is to apply for a position as your guardian angel. It is an easy process—while that role is typically reserved for the lower ranks, there is no shortage of humans in need of spiritual guidance and protection. He only questions why an angel wasn’t assigned to you when you were in greatest need of one.

♡ Henceforth, Capitano becomes a recurring character in your life. Every week, he visits you in the meadow. When you ask for his identity, he claims to be a progressive believer from another town. But rather than enlighten you with the true Word of God, he simply keeps you company and indulges your “vices,” leading to hours spent reading together. Beyond those meetings, he also watches over you to ward off any demons or humans seeking to harm you.

♡ From your end, you slowly warm up to your mysterious companion. He is a man of few words, but his actions always convey a sense of kindness. And despite his faith, he genuinely respects your beliefs and accepts you as you are. At one point, he even gives you a special gift, a quill pen of exceptional quality. The feather, pure white with a soft radiance, must have been sourced from a rare bird of prey.

♡ Over time, however, something changes. Capitano can’t deny that the faults lies with him. His visits, his constant thoughts of you, the ever-blurring line between want and duty…nothing of his behavior can be attributed to an angel’s inherent love for humanity. If that were the case, his love wouldn’t beget heartache. His love wouldn’t beget the temptation to harm others, rooted not in the name of justice but for your own safety. His love wouldn’t beget lust, guilt, dishonor, desires so sinfully evocative of his own fallibility.

♡ The truth is, you were never in need of spiritual salvation. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, what Capitano saw was a pure soul—a good person unlikely to commit evil nor fall into true temptation. Moreover, he knows that your sin of disbelief is forgivable unlike your Church’s sins of violence. That so long as you remain as you are, your soul will not be denied paradise, albeit in a realm of Heaven beyond Capitano’s jurisdiction. So why is he incapable of leaving your side?

✿ ⚘

“I had a long, long dream. I dreamed that you and I met again in the pure white world that we created.”

As you read the final line, your gaze leaves the book and returns to Capitano.

“What did you think of the story?”

Your shoulder brushes against his own, a tempting sensation. It is all he can do to remain still, to think against seeking out more of your touch, to remind himself that your close proximity is a mere necessity for your current activity.

The left side of the book, bearing the story’s ending, rests in your left hand. The other side is held in Capitano’s right hand, a blank page devoid of hope for a happy ending. When he turns the page, you seamlessly catch it under your thumb to show the next page.

Who knew of the casual intimacies imbued in the act of reading together?

“It was a well-written novel,” he says simply. “Though her sins tarnished her honor, Rosalyne’s sacrifice was an act of love. Her loss did not hinder her faithfulness to Rostam.”

“I feel the same way,” you muse. “Now I understand why this book was banned centuries ago. Forbidden love between angels and humans…it certainly goes against what the Church taught us about angels. I have to give the author credit for their imagination.”

It’s just the two of you again, this time in the library. At the start of winter, you invited Capitano to your workplace. There, in your greatest show of trust, you brought him to a secret room dedicated to texts banned by the Church for promoting “blasphemy.” Fantasy, erotica, anti-Church publications, first editions of censored books, stories which merely deviated from the Church’s popular depictions of spiritual beings.

Molten Moment belongs to the last category. Little do you know that it was based on a true story, that the author had really formed a pact with a demon called La Signora. Capitano himself is mentioned in the story under his true name.

He was one of the few angels who noticed the changes in Rosalyne’s behavior. She used to be a Throne, an angel with no connection to Earth nor humanity. Yet by some twist of fate, she laid eyes on a brave knight from Mondstadt and began to meet him in her human guise.

He was the first to hear of Rosalyne’s sin, that being she saved Rostam’s life during a battle. It was a direct violation of God’s orders: Angels and demons may influence humans, but they are forbidden from directly altering a human’s lifespan.

He was a silent witness to Rosalyne’s descent. She fell from Heaven, burned by her own flames, yet she had never appeared more ecstatic. In the following years, she married Rostam and lived a happy life with him on Earth.

He was the last to recognize Rostam’s soul at the pearly gates, forever separated from his fallen lover. Such had been Rosalyne’s divine punishment, worsened by her knowledge of this possibility. But what else was she to do? To let Rostam know of her true nature? To drag his soul down to Hell, where he’d be subjected to an eternity of undeserved suffering?

Capitano is no fool. As he read Molten Moment, he began to understand Rosalyne’s sin in a new light. Half the time, he couldn’t even concentrate on the text, his human eyes repeatedly drifting to your intense reading expression.

He closes the book, leaving it in your sole grasp. But before he can stand up from the sofa, you scoot closer and lean your weight on him. The book is placed on a nearby table, forgotten.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. Your right hand, empty since the prologue, traces his left hand.

A moment of silence precedes his response. “You may.”

Wordlessly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. A gesture of intimacy, an unspoken confession. Yet as he savors your touch, Capitano wonders if you would harbor the same level of comfort around his true form.

He doubts it. As a Power, he bears an inhuman appearance on par with that of his superiors. It is his true image which has earned him the title of monster by witnessing humans.

Still, he allows himself to indulge in the blessing that is your oblivion. When you look into his two human eyes, there is a soft light in your gaze wholly free of fear.

“Spring is coming soon,” you mutter. “I can’t wait to see the flowers again. Come to think of it, there’s a variety of narcissus which grows only in late spring. It’s very pretty.”

Against his better judgment, Capitano strengthens his grip on your hand. “Shall I take it as an invitation to resume our meetings in the meadow?”

“Sure.” That is when you look up, a small smile adorning your face. “And if you can’t visit for whatever reason, I’ll pick a bouquet and preserve it for you.”

For once, Capitano is rendered speechless.

Rarely do you ever smile. Even to him, you retain your listless disposition—whether it is out of habit or lingering distance, he has yet to discern your reasons. But that is what makes it all the more special, those few instances when he is beholden to your expressions.

He wonders if this is what humans feel in the divine presence of angels, when they are borne witness to all things holy and beautiful.

Your smile is a phenomenon reserved only for the worthiest of souls. And in your grace, he has never felt more undeserving.

✿ ⚘

♡ At the end of winter, a religious war is authorized by the Church of Mondstadt. Shortly after the news reaches your town, Capitano informs you that he will be busy with “work.” He says it during another reading date, featuring Heart of Clear Springs. Before leaving, he kisses your hand and gives you a kind smile. There is a sad look in his eyes, but you don’t inquire further.

♡ In late spring, your town is attacked. With the entire area under fire, from your home to the meadow, you find yourself running back to the sacred building which you’d avoided for years. After all, though the enemy soldiers belong to a different denomination, they still worship the same god as you. In the present, the church is the only place on Earth where you can claim asylum and pray for your survival.

♡ Except every entrance is locked, including the doors to the orphanage. As the army reaches the town square, all you can do is bang on the front doors and beg to be let in. From inside, you can hear the voices of the people that luckily attended mass before the invasion. Some tell you to hide elsewhere, others beg you for forgiveness, a few sound like the nuns and caretakers who tormented you in the past.

♡ Before you can think of another sanctuary, a soldier strikes you. Pain…it has never felt more intense. Through your fading consciousness, you register your body falling and your head hitting the concrete. Blood pools from your forehead and trickles down the steps of the church, tainting it red.

♡ Life flashes before your eyes in a blurry sequence. The static images of God, sermons and bruises, unanswered prayers, people who never believed you or simply didn’t care. A birthday celebrated with your departure from the Church. Sanctuary found in the library followed by the meadow. Yet the numbness remained, each day bleeding into the next in a gloomy haze. In all those years, did you ever feel God’s love?

♡ It doesn’t matter at this point. A small part of you wonders if you should have retained your faith, continued your prayers, sought out salvation in the safety of your solitude. At least then, at the hour of your death, you wouldn’t be confronted with the fact of your humanity. The primal fear of death, the spiritual fear of ending up in Hell no matter Capitano’s reassurances.

♡ Capitano…where is he? Weakly, you call out to him but he doesn’t appear. Of course, why would he? You should feel thankful; it means he is probably safe, wherever he is. Still, you can’t help but wish he were here—if not to save you, as he has done by simply keeping you company, but to comfort you one last time. And those are the thoughts which plague you in your final moments, an unheard prayer on the tip of your tongue.

“I pray that we meet again, myself and the first person who truly loved me.”

♡ ______ died on a cloudy day, one of many people persecuted in the name of God. After the Church was destroyed and its followers slaughtered, their body was buried in a mass grave that once flourished with nature. There was a poignant quality to their countenance, an air of distress as transient as the flowers planted above them.

♡ At least, that is how your story ends from the perspectives of the survivors. But to the angels and demons who witnessed the destruction of your town, your death was only the end of a chapter in your life. In their eyes, Capitano had been present all throughout, an invisible witness to your death, absolute in his refusal to perform an unauthorized miracle.

♡ He remained by your side until the light faded from your eyes. That was when he took notice of the bouquet of narcissus clutched in your hand, tainted with blood despite your feeble efforts to save his gift. A soldier approached your corpse, intending to drag it down the steps for burial; but before they could touch you, Capitano appeared before them.

♡ It was only for a brief second, but the soldier drew back and cowered in fear. In the following days, they were haunted by the memory of the angelic figure who appeared outside the Church of Mondstadt. Or more precisely, the monster who prayed over a bloodstained corpse and took a bouquet of ruined flowers out of their grasp.

✿ ⚘

From the moment you wake up, all peace leaves the meadow.

What happened? Your memory comes back in hazy fragments—death, darkness, blinding light, pearly gates, ethereal figures. Most vivid is the sensation of strong arms and soft feathers, a familiar warmth which accompanied you throughout your journey.

As for your current surroundings, you are in a meadow so beautiful that it brings to mind the Garden of Eden. Flowers of every variety bloom across the scenery, some out of season. The sky is bright, sunless, a canvas of multiple colors. There are no other signs of life.

Internally, too, something feels off. A nearby pond provides a glimpse of your reflection—white garments, gold scars in place of your fatal injuries, your disoriented countenance. If this place is what you think it is…shouldn’t you feel at peace, happy even? And why are you alone?

Your gaze lands on a patch of flowers. Pure white, perianth petals, cup-shaped coronas…the same type of narcissus which grew in your favorite meadow. The flowers point in different directions, as though searching for a sun that does not exist.

“You are awake.”

A shadow touches your form, engulfing you in darkness. It bears a large, unrecognizable shape but such details evade you as you recognize the voice behind you.

“Capitano!” Immediately, you turn around, only to gasp and suppress a scream.

The person before you…can you even call him human? He is incredibly tall, to the point that you must crane your neck to see his face—assuming there is one beneath his iron mask. His body is clad in silver armor, stained blood in some places. A halo, shaped like a crown of thorns, shines behind his head.

But what shocks you are his wings. A single pair covered in radiant white feathers and eerily dark blue eyes. Each eye seems to glow with an uncanny aura.

Dark blue eyes with a striking resemblance to Capitano’s. What more for his long black hair and his solemn manner of speaking?

It doesn’t make your revelation any less unsettling.

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out in a nervous whisper. “Is it really you? You’re a…”

“An angel,” he confesses. He takes a step back, widening the distance between your bodies. “I ask that you pardon my appearance. Such was my sacrifice—for my true form, in all of its monstrosity, to be my sole image.”

His human face comes to mind, along with the kind gaze you fell in love with.

You feel the weight of multiple gazes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Is this realm to your satisfaction?” he asks. “I beseeched God to create a special paradise for you, cut off from the rest of Heaven. The price is that your capacity to feel negative emotions remains in this realm…though that is preferable.”

Preferable? How so? Right now, you can barely process what he is telling you. You are dead. Your companion is an angel. Your soul is in paradise, but not exactly.

After everything you’ve been through, you were still deemed worthy of a place in Heaven.

“I am sorry.”

Capitano’s voice brings you back to reality. He has never sounded more serious, emotional, repentant. And when you look up…

Is he crying?

Most of his eyes remain open, focusing on you with a fervent stare. But others are downcast, as if unable to face you. And a few appear glossy, blinking back iridescent tears.

“I am truly sorry.” He bows his head in shame, wings folded. “What I did to you was cruel, an absolute injustice.”

You don’t know which eyes to make contact with. “You—”

“It must have been painful,” he continues. “Even if I were to justify my actions, the truth lies in the fact that I tolerated your suffering for my own selfish desires. And that is why I ask not for your forgiveness, knowing I am the one at fault.”

Silence. In light of Capitano’s confession, all you can do is stare at him and comprehend the weight of your situation. What exactly are you supposed to feel, knowing his betrayal? Knowing that regardless of your feelings, you have nowhere else to go in the afterlife?

Yet despite it all, your prayer came true. The two of you were able to meet again.

And that is what compels you to take a step forward, to come closer until you are standing in front of him. “Hey, it’s…don’t cry.”

A delicate sensation blesses his wings—your hands carefully tracing his feathers to wipe away his tears. Several eyes widen in surprise, but all he can see in your gaze is sympathy.

“I’ll admit, it was painful,” you tell him. “Dying alone. But maybe it’s…better this way. If I survived, I’d have to deal with the loss of my home. And who knows what kind of living hell the other Church would’ve put me through?”

Above all, Capitano is the only person whose love you can believe in.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. The next words to leave your lips are spoken with certainty, bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

“I’m sure it was an act of love on your part.”

His reaction is sudden, incurring your surprise. But all you can do is surrender to Capitano’s embrace, allow his free arm to hold your waist and pull you closer to him. His wings wrap around you, caging you in soft feathers and eerie blue orbs.

“Capitano?” You can only look up at him, peering into the contents of his mask.

…It’s like staring into an abyss, a night sky dotted with twinkling blue stars. But in the absence of a human likeness, his words express what a face cannot.

“Never again,” he vows, “shall I allow harm to befall you. That is a promise.”

The hand on your waist moves upwards to caress your face. His touch is light, more hesitant than his previous gestures.

“You need not serve God nor partake in fruitful labor like the other souls in Heaven. All I ask is that you rest, indulge yourself, enjoy this paradise to the fullest.”

A flower is pinned to his armor, right above his heart. You recognize it instantly—a narcissus in full bloom, stained with your blood.

“If you desire a flower, it shall grow at once. If there are any books you would like to read, they shall be brought to you shortly.”

What was the name of that variety again? Narcissus triandrus. Angel’s tears.

“If you are in need of my presence, I shall appear before you, so long as I am not in the midst of battle. And should you ever desire the opposite, I can promise my distance.”

When Capitano looks into your eyes, all he can see is his own reflection. Whatever emotion colors your gaze, it casts his true image in a compassionate light.

“I shall do everything in my power to bring you joy for all of eternity. Such will be my penance.”

“...All right.” With that, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He feels warm, comfortingly familiar. “I’ll trust you on that.”

Rest in peace, ______.

Think not of your mortal body in the beginning stages of decay.

Think not of your tormentors who are paying for their sins in Hell.

Think only of eternity with your beloved savior.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

Aahhhh it's done....this idea turned out much heavier than expected, but I'm glad that I was able to write this!! I hope you all cried over enjoyed the story of Angel! Capitano and his damsel. They were truly a delight to write for~

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @diodellet @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @harmonysanreads @mochinon-yah @oofasleep @micchikari @whispereons @thescribeoflostmemories

[thespiritualencourager]

🔴 DEALING WITH A CRISIS

“For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we may boldly say: “The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?””

‭‭(Hebrews‬ ‭13:5-6‬ ‭NKJV‬‬)

In one of her books, Amy Carmichael records a crisis in the life of Andrew Murray that became a source of spiritual strength to her. A painful experience came to Andrew Murray. How would he meet it? It was the way he met this severe trial, and the words he wrote at that time, that proved such a blessing to Miss Carmichael, and to many others since then. This is what he wrote:

First, He brought me here, it is by His will I am in this strait place: in that fact will I rest.

Next, He will keep me here in His love, and give me grace He means to bestow.

Last, in His good time He can bring me out again - how and when He knows.

Let me say, I am here by God’s appointment; in His keeping; under His training; for His time. When in any kind of trial, always look for the blessing.

— V. Raymond Edman

© Honey out of the Rock

[faithpartnersassembly]

For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:13

We can draw such comfort from these words! All loneliness, all fear is washed away when you know that the Creator God is with you even in the most terrifying of life's situations. The wind and the waves obey Him. Jesus is the Lord over them all. Who is man that He is mindful of. He promises to hold us and help us out of this devastating storm. Why are you downcast O my soul. Your Heavenly Father is on your side. He will never leave you nor forsake you.

[sharp-silver4795]

Begging for Sin 🔞

Part I

Liu x Religious/Virgin Reader (amab)

Context here: thanks @noctiva for letting me claim my work

Content Warnings: religious imagery, quoting scripture, degradation, blowjobs, handjobs, anal, cheating mentioned, public sex, hair pulling, virginity loss, overstimulation

Sunday’s morning sermon. You never miss a single one. It’s always a powerful message. The preacher always brings the words of the Lord. It’s perfect.

You pray every day and every night, praying that God uses you for his will and his will alone. Life has been perfect. You never question God’s will or his plans, and it’s always been perfect that way.

That is until today…

The church doors creak open minutes before the preacher begins his service.

In steps a man who looks rough even if you can’t see his face. He wears a long coat, faded black jeans, and heavy boots that have seen better days. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and goosebumps riddle your skin.

“Hello there,” the teacher calls, walking up to the man, “we are so glad to have you. What brings you here, brother?”

They shake hands, and it becomes clear that he is dwarfed to the stranger. His question is left unanswered while the man stalks to sit at one of the pews. Your eyes widen as he sits at the end of your row, a mere quarter of a metre away from you.

The preacher watches him before introducing himself: “Well, you can call me Brother James. I am the leader of this church. What can we call you?”

“Han.” His voice is surprisingly deep and shaken, as if he had ran a marathon, though his breathing was smooth.

“Well, bro-”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not here for formalities.”

“Well, would you like to say what you are here for?”

The silence that ensues is… tense. ‘Han’ raises his head slowly, and you can just barely see a scar across his face.

Brother James merely nods, and takes to his podium.

***

The service is captivating. By the time the service is over, your faith has been refilled for the coming week.

As the members of the church begin to leave, you notice Han not moving.

He’s sitting at the end of the pew with his elbows on his knees, hands together, and head hanging low.

You stop and walk back around to sit next to him.

“Hey,” you say, keeping your voice as steady as possible, “you okay?”

Silence, you clear your throat and repeat your question: “are you okay?”

“If God says he will never leave us,” he begins, “and that he cannot lie,” he turns to look at you in the face, “why would he leave his son?”

You give a confused look, “what? What are y-”

“Deuteronomy 31:8. he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged… but he left Jesus.”

“No he doesn’t. God and Jesus are one and the same. Like you said, he can’t lie-”

“Matthew 27. Jesus says, on the cross, My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

A silence hovers between you both, “God says he won’t leave you, but then leaves his son to die, his only son… that doesn’t sound like a loving father.” He seems strained as he speaks, as if it pains him to think about it all.

Your eyes meet and you get a good look at him: he has scars across both cheeks, one down the middle of his face, and one that barely misses his right eye. There’s a scarf around his neck that was hiding behind his jacket and hood and you can faintly make out a rosary underneath it. You don’t know why, but you feel… odd. It’s akin to fear, but for some reason, you find yourself coming closer until your sat next to him.

“God works in mysterious ways,” you say, placing a hand to his thigh, “faith takes time, it will get easier as your walk with God grows.” He hums in response and, for the first time, leans back. He keeps his ‘man spread’ position, resting his hands between his legs. He takes his hood off, revealing his messy brown hair hiding beneath it.

“I’ve heard that all my life.”

“That’s because it’s true. You have to trust him in everything. But, I think he’s really proud that you came to church today.”

“Oh yeah? From everything I’ve heard, I should have bursted into flames as soon as I stepped in here.” You laugh until you notice his dead pan expression.

“Why’s that? Do you have some conviction?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, we all do. We all struggle with something. For some people it’s alcohol, or drugs,” you notice the way he cringes as you speak, “for some it’s porn or sex-”

You’re interrupted by a cruel laugh, “sex? How can sex be sinful?”

“Like fornication and… stuff.”

“Stuff? Tell me, babes,” you don’t notice the way his arm begins to wrap around your shoulder, “you got a girlfriend?”

You sigh, “no.”

“Boyfriend?” Your eyes widen and you flinch, “what?! No! Why would you even think that? That’s disgusting! I-”

He laughs once more, “why are you getting so defensive?”

You stand, backing up slightly. “Because I-” you stammer, looking for a response, “you want one, don’t you?” His question leaves you speechless.

“Is that the problem? Or is it this,” he gestures to the room around you both, stands next to you, and points to the portrait of Jesus on the wall behind the preacher’s stand, “do you think God shall smite thee of you kiss a dude?”

“Well, well no, it’s just-”

“You see, you’ve said everything except that you don’t like men.”

“Wha- what does that have to do with anything?”

“If you really didn’t like men or like the idea of being with a man,” you start to back away, the situation seeming uncomfortable, “you wouldn’t be so defensive about it,” however, you’ve backed yourself into the back of the other pew, pinned between it and him, “would you?”

“It’s- I- it’s wrong.” He raises a brow, “God said it was wrong. I can’t be… gay.” You cringe at the word and notice something in Han’s unnatural green eyes. You can’t exactly make it out, but you’re not sure if you like it or not.

He places his hand under your jaw, and moves closer, pulling you up to kiss him.

You’re left in a state of shock. His lips are surprisingly soft, and the way they fit into your own feels like perfection. You notice the way he keeps eye contact the whole time.

“Did that feel wrong?” You stand still, eyes wide and brain stalling to comprehend what just happened.

Your face must be tomato red as you realise how your dress pants suddenly feel much, much, tighter than before.

He’s now pressed mere centimetres from his leg grazing your boner, “love is such an innocent thing,” he tilts you head to look at his face, “why would God gatekeep who may partake in it?”

He laughs again, but it’s softer, much more comforting and relaxed, “Psalm 21 tells us that God would not deny our heart’s desires nor a request of his chosen people.”

He leans down to your ear and the smell of his cologne makes you shiver, “in Hebrews 11, Paul says that there is pleasure in sin for a season.”

With one more step, you’re sure he can feel your predicament against him, “men have many desires and, while I may not be God, I can give in to yours.”

You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm, “I don’t need anything that God hasn’t already given.”

“But, love, God can’t grant you this,” he presses his knee just under your crotch, making you squirm, “this is too carnal for the big man to allow.”

He moves his leg a bit, causing you to whine from the friction, gripping the pew behind you, “when it comes to this part of life, you become your own god.”

“N-no gods can come before him.”

“Yes, I know. But can God make you feel like this?” He drags his hands along your sides as he sinks to the ground, “can God satiate the lust you need?”

You can’t respond. You don’t know how to respond. You’ve been in church your whole life, taught from when you were young to now everything that’s right and wrong. But now… this man tries to flip it upside down.

“If the Holy Spirit rests within us,” he says, while his hands rub the outsides of your thighs, “then we become a temple.”

You nod, and blush further as he proceeds to undo your belt.

“That’s what Paul taught us in first Corinthians, right?”

You keep mindlessly nodding and felt a small bit of guilt in the fact that you didn’t want him to stop… “allow me to show you how to worship it.”

He stops, leaving you with your pants open and him on his knees before you. His expression is expecting you to respond, but you don’t know what to say.

“Uhm… w-worship? The- the temple?”

He hums, “yes,” he brings a hand to palm your cock through your underwear, “Would you like me to teach you?”

Without thinking, you nod desperately.

You watch as he gets your pants to the floor, helping you to remove them, along with your socks and shoes, “you’re not going to regret this.”

He pulls your underwear down painfully slow, “after all,” he grabs your cock, pumping it in front of his lips, “there is pleasure in sin.”

Then he’s taking you in his mouth, purposely groaning to send vibrations through you.

“Oh my- Han, I-” he suddenly pulls away, “Liu, babes.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Liu.” You nod eagerly so he can go back to what he was doing, and he does. You moan louder than you wanted to, squirming as he holds your hips down.

Your hands fly into his hair as you struggle to keep your voice down. It feels so good…

The way he laps at the underside and swirls his tongue around the head of it then goes further down. You move your hips forward a bit and he gags.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry!” He only groans once more vibrating the wet hole around your cock.

You bite your lip, trying not to whine when he pulls away.

“Y’know,” he says, dragging his tongue along the side, “you could just fuck my throat.”

You gasp, shocked that he just swore at you. He picks up on it and says, “what’s wrong? Didn’t think I’d cuss? Well that’s just bullshit.” He smiles a shit-eating grin

(listen, I can’t write this in any other way, this isn’t the reader’s internal monologue, ok?!)

before standing and wrapping his hands around your dick. You pant as his fingers slide easily along the shaft, lubricated by his own saliva.

You bite the inside of your cheek as he speaks, “I’ve done a lot of fucked-up things in my life, swearing is the least of my concerns.”

“Well, you- you-”

“What? Is it because I’m in the house of God?”

You nod furiously, “well that’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” You squint in confusion.

“You’re getting off with a man in God’s house. I’ve been sucking your cock and now I’m jacking you off. We’re both sinners here.”

“God,” You whine. ‘Liu’ leans forward, biting and kissing and sucking at your neck, causing you to throw your head back.

You meet the eyes of the painting of Jesus at the back of the church and see the crucifix and the repentance bench. You see the holy altar, and the Bible on the podium.

We’re both sinners here.

You moan once more, pushing against his shoulders, “wait wait! I feel, I feel weird!”

He looks at you, almost skeptical, “have you never done this before?”

“Masturbating and fornication are- are aga-”

“Ohhh I get it, I know it feels weird. Trust me, baby,” you squirm and your toes curl. He lowers himself back to his knees, holding your cock mere centimetres from his face. “I gotcha. Nothing bad’s gonna happen to you. I gotcha babes.”

It feels odd, like a knot in your stomach getting way too tight. Your feet move back and forth across the carpet, unable to remain still. It snaps, and a load moan escapes your throat.

Tears prick at your eyes as your thighs shake in Liu’s hold.

He stands and wipes the tears from your eyes and nuzzles at your neck. Liu then opens his mouth, revealing a white liquid that he lets drip on his palm. Your eyes widen, but before you can ask any questions, he turns you around, and has you lean over the pew.

You gasp as you feel his finger nudge at your arse and shiver when you hear him undo his belt.

“this might sting a bit.” He’s then pushing his cum-coated finger into you, using his knee to keep your thighs open.

You whine at the small pain, and gasp when he adds another finger, “I’m not tryna rush you too much, but I still need to hurry. I got someone waiting on me.”

You don’t think much into the statement as the motions start to feel really good.

Shallow pants and moans are music to Liu’s ears as he starts to curl them deeper. You moan once he adds a third, “I wanna make sure you’re read for this,” he says, before he’s pulling his fingers away.

Before you can look back, your face goes pale. You feel something warm, blunt, and wet at your entrance, “this will hurt.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as he pushes in, the stretch burning your walls as he goes further.

It feels like an eternity when he finally bottoms out. He stays still, giving you time to adjust.

“You’re doing so well, babes. So so good.”

You’re a mess. You’re bent over the pew, cock twitching between your legs, ass stuffed full on the man’s cock. You swear you’re being split in half.

“God, you’re tight.”

You bite your tongue and tilt your head up. Your gaze once again lands on the crucifix. Jesus nailed on the cross for your sins.

‘I’ve already used his name in vain once. I can’t do it again. No swearing either. Keep your composure. God will reward you in the end.’

You let out a shaky breath when Liu pulls back, head dropping down again, unable to look at your saviour.

You can’t hold back the whine from your throat when he pushed forward again, “shit, gripping my cock like a vice. Holy fuck.” He laughs to himself before picking up a hard pace.

It isn’t fast, it’s just hard. He hits every nerve in just the right way. It feels so nice.

As he speeds up, your moans break and you lose the ability to speak coherently.

“How’s it feel, huh? How does it feel to get your back blown out- fucking hell- in front of God. In his own house. Like a fucking- haah- like a fucking whore?”

You whine, head dropping against the wood of the pew. You can’t do it. You can’t answer. You don’t know what you can do. He grabs you by the your hair and makes you look at the face of Jesus.

“Enduring a crown of thorns, enduring the cat of nine tails, and suffering pure mockery. And you’re losing your purity right before his eyes.”

You let out a choked sob, unable to look away from the sculpture.

“Worst of all,” he says, hips speeding up, “you’re doing it,” you brace yourself as he leans to your ear, knowing what’s coming next, “with a man.”

Tears stream down your face, sobs getting hung on moans, but you can’t look away. As shameful as it is, that knot snaps once more. He slows down for you, rubbing up and down your abdomen while you ride it out.

“God…” he leans completely on you, back flush to his torso which is now bare. You can feel scars and wounds on your skin, scraping against it.

He reaches his hand around to pump at your cock again, pulling a whine from your lips. You feel his forehead hit the skin in between your shoulder blades.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, but I’m not cumming til you do.”

“Liu…” you say, still sobbing, “please, please, I-” he just speeds up, and your pleas are left unheard. He pulls out abruptly.

Your legs shake, the pew being the only thing keeping you standing. He pulls you by the waist to him. This time, you’re facing him as he pulls you to the pew behind you both. He sits down, having you straddle him.

“It’s alright, babes. You did so good.” His chest is heaving as he rubs his hand up and down your back.

You’re still sobbing as he pulls your head into the crook of his neck.

“That’s it. Let it out. I know that was hard.”

You’re saying his name over and over, holding onto him like a life preserver.

“Let me know when you’re good to keep going, or if you can’t anymore.”

You shake your head violently, “ok okay. I gotcha.” He hushes you, pulling you closer.

You look down, pulling his dick into your hands, “you- hah- you don’t have to.”

“I- I want to. It- it isn’t fair.” His head leans back, eyes fluttering closed as you stare at his dick in awe.

“How did you do this?”

“Huh,” he cracks an eye open, “do what?”

“All of this,” you brush your fingers over the metal in the flesh and notice the way his abs flex in response.

“I, uh. I have a- shit” he’s gripping the front of the seat, back arching off the back. “Don’t, don’t stop. Fuck fuck fuck!”

Your eyes widen as hot white cum shoots out of him. He’s basically rutting up into your hand, riding out the well-needed orgasm.

“Fuuckkk.” He’s panting and sweating. Holding a tight grip on your shoulder.

“We made a bit of a mess, huh?” His question falls on deaf ears. You’re too busy trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

It was the best experience of your life. You finally got what you were missing. You weren’t sure why you couldn’t never pull girls, or why they never seemed attractive. It’s because you’re gay. Whether yohh uh like it or not, you’re gay.

He snaps his fingers, “hey. Hey! This is Earth calling! We need you!” You snap out of your little trance and he shakes his head.

“C’mon little guy. Let’s cleaned up, yeah?” He stands, holding you on his hip so you grip him like a koala.

The next moments pass like a blur.

By the time you’re functioning again, he’s got you sat on the pew you started at and is getting both of you dressed.

You pause him when your hand reaches out to his chest. There is a large scarred X across the skin. His breath catches as you gently trace its path.

He grabs your arm, pinning it to your own side, and shrugs his shirt on.

As you’re buttoning up your shirt, he’s digging into the interior pocket of his coat. When you look up, he’s fully clothed and is… sliding on a ring…

“Oh my god!” He looks up, almost in confusion, “you’re married?!”

“Oh, yeah. Yes, I am.”

“That’s even worse! My god my god my god.”

He laughs, “James 2:10.”

“Huh?”

“For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at one point is guilty of all of it,” He leans down to you, “so you’re just as bad as I am.”

He pats your shoulder, “I’ll see you next Sunday,” officially leaving you dumbfounded and alone.

Divider creds: Sisterlucifergraphics

[evamacdesigns]

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Deuteronomy 31:6🙏🏾🫶🏾

Do not be afraid have faith in God 🙏🏾🫶🏾

www.evamacdesigns.com

@evamacdesigns

#evamacdesigns #god #christian #godisgood #jesus #jesuslives #jesusquotes #godfirst #proverbs #proverbs31woman #amen #prayer #worshiphim #worshipmusic #godbless #christianquotes #christianpost #christiangirl #godsaves #graphicdesigner #socialmediamanager #virtualassistant #christianwoman #bible #worship #saved #blessings

[thewordfortheday]

At my first defense no one took my part; all deserted me…But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength. 2 Timothy 4:16

Paul is in custody in Rome. His letter comes to an end like this.

He is deserted. He is an old man. A loyal servant. In a foreign city, far from home. Surrounded by enemies. In danger of death. Why? Answer: So he could write this precious sentence for our souls: “But the Lord stood by me!”

O how I love those words! When you are deserted by those very close to you, do you cry out against God? Or do you take courage in this magnificent truth: “I will be with you to the end of the age”? Do you strengthen your heart with His promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you”?

Then let us say, “The Lord stood by me!”

[adventists-in-michigan]

To: The Discouraged

"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." - Deuteronomy 31:8 (NIV)

Discouragement can often weigh us down, making us feel overwhelmed and helpless in the face of life's challenges. This verse provides inspiration, reminding us that we are never alone in our journey through life. Even in the midst of difficulties and uncertainties, this verse encourages us to trust in the presence of a guiding and caring God. It's a reminder that we can take each step with confidence, knowing that we are accompanied by divine love and protection.

[lamemaster]

Yandere the Silmarillion Elves

Request: Hello! May I request yandere headcanons for Maeglin and Maglor (separately), perhaps with a human reader? Also, I really love your blog you write incredible stories :))

Pairings: Maeglin x human reader & Maglor x human reader

Genre: Dark themes. Maeglin's is gorey >"<

AN: Thank you for requesting this! I enjoy writing dark themes and this definitely was my cup of tea. I hope you like it.

Next up- Finrod x Valyrian! Reader Fall trope event list

Maeglin- (yandere reader)

A mangled mess of limbs was how you found him, withering beneath the ruins of the fallen city.

Somehow, against all odds, he lived. An amalgamation of mass bound to a body. Condemned to survive in a body tortured by death’s refusal to grant him peace.

He had endured this state for nearly a year, trapped between life and death, as if the world itself were determined to deny him release.

And then, there was you. As a wandering bandit, the sight of Gondolin’s ruins had seemed a fortune, a treasure mine promising riches to last a lifetime.

Yet amid the remnants of shattered stone and splintered wooden furniture, there he lay—the last survivor of the city’s fall. The one who instigated it all.

The incestuous bastard who, miraculously, had survived it. Every elven bards’ latest villain, the one sung of in recent ballads with curses on their lips.

You lifted the broken elf, cradling his twisted form—if his position could even be called that. His eyes, devoid of lids, remained fixed on you, unblinking, raw from months of crying out for help that never came. Gods, even now, he was beautiful.

Thus began your labor. Five days passed as you set bones that had grown crooked with time, wrapped him in scraps of cloth salvaged from the ruins, and nursed him with poppy milk poured into his helpless lips. With his face streaked by dried tears, he grew drowsy, finally slipping into fevered dreams.

As he lay shivering in your arms, lost in visions of a life that had abandoned him, you brushed your hand over his unmarred skin, tracing the contours of his trembling eyelids.

You murmured softly, your voice a mix of promise and threat “I would never let anyone hurt you. They’d have to get through me first... and believe me, they wouldn’t make it.” As if your reassurance could pull him back from his dreams of the past life without you.

Here, in the grave of his past, he was yours. No one would come for the one even death had forsaken. He was yours alone, bound by fate’s cruelty and your own claim upon him.

Cupping his damp cheek, you grinned, a glint of madness in your eyes. “My darling incestuous bastard,” you whispered, a low cackle slipping from your lips.

Maglor- (yandere character)

Maglor would follow you into death. Not even Eru Himself could hope to take you from him. No one would ever take what was his, not again.

The wedding was swift. In fact, the secondborn Fëanorian had insisted upon it within weeks of meeting you, brushing aside your hesitations with fervent kisses.

Your concerns about the doom of mortality were hushed in whispers and promises; if death was a gift granted to Men, then Maglor would seize it back from its giver. His breaths would ebb and flow with yours. Nothing could alter that.

It was all he could do now. Time had sharpened his resolve, even blunted the burns of the Silmaril, leaving behind only faint scars.

He had glamoured away his past, letting his skin heal so he could become the perfect lover for you, forsaking his true name for a new one.

Peldis, he called himself. A mountain elf from distant valleys. By sheer luck, you hadn’t noticed the faint scent of brine lingering about him, nor the care he took in combing his tangled hair until it shone.

You hadn’t glimpsed the quiet ferocity with which he shed his former self to stand before you, a stranger made whole in the reflection of your wants.

It had been one fateful night, when the ache of the Silmaril consumed him, that he’d first seen you.

Or rather, he’d caught sight of you wading in moonlit waters, bare as the light itself, utterly unguarded. He hadn’t looked away. The years had been long, and the Fëanorian had been starved.

The vision of silvery moonlight tracing your body had entranced him, struck him with a longing sharper than any oath. 

You were it, he thought. The Silmaril reborn. Perhaps even better than any of his father’s works. You were more than a cursed jewel.

Like a viper shedding its skin, Maglor transformed himself into Peldis. A convenient presence in your village, a simple trader of carved wooden combs.

It had not taken him long to notice the way your own hair flowed down your back like silk, and he knew, watching you, that you would come to him.

From offering a delicate comb for your hair to placing the ring upon your finger, Maglor had orchestrated each moment, each touch.

The songs of your fairytale romance made it easy to draw you into his arms, into the warmth of your bed, far from prying eyes and whispers.

And there, as he held you close, his touch guiding you deeper into his embrace, he tugged your soul into a quiet submission, bending your will and your mind to his desire.

Maglor knew what was best for you. And in this life, that place was here, wrapped in his arms, your heart tethered to his.

Even in the harmony of the Timeless Halls, yours would be the song he would compose. His muse. His beloved. You were his, now and forever.

[jesuschristisgod]

Deuteronomy 31:6 says, "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you".

In this verse, Moses is telling the Israelites that his time leading them is ending and that Joshua will succeed him. Moses encourages them to be strong and courageous because the Lord will accompany them and will not fail them.

[mymotherjerusalem]

"Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you'."

Hebrews 13:5

[ohifonlyx33]

Was going through old files to delete on my laptop and found a piece of wisdom randomly written in a .txt and IDK if I ever shared it so let me just share this galaxy brain thought with you now: Never leave you, nor forsake you. Is God's way of saying He's never Gonna Give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you.