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sweetercalypso · 8 months

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Pearl Rosary || Din Djarin

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Priest of Mandalore!Din Djarin listens to your sins during confession

Notes: part three in my week of horror series! minors dni; public(ish) sex, finger sucking, deepthroating, cock worship, facial, reader is a Mandalorian who takes her helmet off, so much religious imagery

In the Cathedral of Mandalore, there’s only just enough light to make out the back of the wooden pew in front of you. The doors and windows are adorned with an ornate red glass that wash the chapel in a somber crimson gloom, a reminder that only those dedicated to their creedal faith are permitted inside.

The nave is silent beyond the occasional clink of beskar and the solemn bells ringing overhead in hourly intervals. You’d counted three resounding chimes, then four, then five, as the day stretches on outside the walls of the chapel.

In your tightly coiled spiral of pensive rumination, time seems to stand still.

Your eyes snap up as another Mandalorian passes by your aisle in their departure from the confessional. The small curtained booth at the front of the church has a strangely foreboding presence, and you’d been working up the courage to step inside all day.

The front doors close, and you’re left with your guilt once again.

If you admit to the thoughts weighing on your conscience, maybe you’ll have the chance to repent. Or, if the pit of dread in your stomach is any prediction, you’ll be cast out for your inclination towards a life of sin.

Before you can work up the nerve to decide whether to gamble your fate, the head of the church, Din Djarin, steps out of the other side of the confessional, rolling his shoulders to relieve the stiff ache of being confined in his narrow compartment.

His armor has grown dull with age and wear, buffed with a flat luster that speaks of its obstinate strength.

Others have said that his appearance makes him seem ordinary, but you’ve always thought that his mannerisms were what set him apart. His imposing stance, his commanding way of speaking, the way his head tilts when he’s deep in thought – he’s beautiful if you know where to look.

When he turns in your direction, your breath catches in your throat.

“You’ve been here for quite a while.” His voice has an unexpected warmth that licks up your spine. “Are you here to speak with me?”

Your eyes flicker warily to the confession booth. “I’m not sure.”

He seems to pause for a moment before making his mind up to join you, floorboards groaning under his heavy boots as he draws near. You shift uncomfortably on the hard bench, squirming under the spotlight of his attention. He stops at the end of your row and rests a hand behind you on the back of the pew.

“We can speak out here if you’d prefer.”

You’re surprised that he’d recognized the source of your unease, though you’re not sure if he realizes why the embrace of the confessional is so distinctly unnerving.

The people of Mandalore are not known for their empathy, especially not those held in high regard by the church. Din Djarin is a fiercely orthodox man, and you doubt he understands the position you’re in.

“I’ve seen you during services,” he comments. “Always so attentive.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of being recognized in the mass of devoted warriors that frequent his sermons. Is your shame so pronounced that you stand out in a crowd? “I didn’t know you paid attention to the assembly.”

He hums in response. “I care deeply for everyone in my congregation, especially those who are in danger of losing their faith. Tell me, what’s been troubling you?”

You hesitate before answering, skirting around the truth as much as you can, as much as he’ll let you.

“I’ve had… impure thoughts, father.”

“Oh?” His voice is rich with interest. “Indulge me, cyar'ika. What tempts you?”

His smooth, full baritone makes it impossible to deny his entreaty, like he’s wrenching your secrets from the far reaches of your mind.

“I’ve thought about… taking my helmet off in the witness of non-believers. I’ve thought about what you look like underneath your armor.” You pause for breath. “I’ve thought about your image at improper times.”

His chest falls with a heady sigh, though the sound is lost beyond the rasp of his modulator. “I see. And how do you think you should pay for your transgressions?”

The presence of other Mandalorians can be heard from outside the chapel – an admonition of what you have to lose if you are turned away. The air in the room shifts. Your hands flex at your sides.

“I’ll do anything.” You push forward onto the edge of your seat, ardently pleading for your chance at repentance. “Tell me how to make things right.”

He shifts in place, mulling over his options for what feels like an eternity. You swallow the urge to scream as silence rings in your ears.

Finally, he speaks.

“Maybe you’re too curious,” he decides. “Too concerned with things you cannot have.”

Your fingers dig into your palms, awaiting the final blow of his judgement.

“I think you need to experience firsthand the gravity of your desire.”

He leans down like he’s sharing something that no one else can hear, a sentiment too clandestine to be born in a house of worship.

“This is a sacred place,” he explains. “If you’re going to commit an act of sin, let it be here.”

You’re taken aback by the implication of his words. You’d been expecting a show of indignation, maybe even outrage for your betrayal of the Way, but it seems like he’s encouraging your lapse in faith. Surely, you’ve misunderstood.

The hand caressing your shoulder tells you that you haven’t.

“Revealing yourself to anyone a sin, and the public would have you exiled for removing your helmet. But here, in the presence of a higher being, I will make an exception.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his hands are on the underside of your helmet, tipping your head back with the force of his grip. The fabric of his gloves glides against your jaw as he lifts your beskar veil and exposes you under the chapel’s dim, ruddy glow.

You squint at the sudden shift in the light, surprised to discover what your dark-tinted visor had been hiding from you. The red halo cast around him is much more intense without the obstruction of your helmet. His outlined form burns with a fiery sanctitude that makes you shudder.

Your attention is drawn to his hands ghosting over your face, cradling your cheeks with a curious touch. The pad of his thumb presses against your mouth, tugging at the plush of your bottom lip. “Is this what you wanted?”

You swallow thickly and chance a look up at him, finding your face in the reflection of his visage. Your lips part in fascination at the sight of your own eyes staring back at you.

“That’s it, open up for me.”

His thumb presses further into your mouth and hooks behind your teeth. The taste of the holy chrism melts across your senses, balsam and olive oil and something you can’t name. When your tongue swipes out to meet his digit, he hums low in his chest and pulls his other hand back to curl around his belt.

“Does this make you feel good? Corrupting a man of faith?”

You whimper around his thumb, eyes blown wide with lust. The metal buckle at his waist glints in the low light, seemingly pleading for your touch. You don’t know how far he’ll take this lesson, but you’re hoping it ends in a mutual exchange of sin.

As if persuaded by your thoughts alone, he works open his belt and the fastenings of his pants, revealing a patch of tawny skin that contrasts the muted tones of his beskar.

“You need more than this, though. Don’t you?”

With a low hiss, he pulls his hardening cock from its confines, and your mouth waters at the sight. He’s eager, alive, twitching in his tight grip. The tip of his cock weeps as he bucks into his hand.

The heat simmering in your belly has grown into a blazing flame. When he swaps his thumb for the head of his cock, your thighs clench with the urgent need to consume him in every way.

His warm, salty taste is so human, so unlike the righteous figure he’s made out to be. You can almost picture what the rest of him looks like by the glimpse of what he’s offered you.

Your lips wrap coyly around his length, an earnest appeal for his approval.

The tint of his visor hides his eyes, but you gaze up at him anyway in hopes that he meets you halfway, that he commits the image of your debauched affair to memory.

“C’mon, this is your chance to atone.”

You trace the vein on the underside of his cock, tongue laving over him in search of a reaction, in search of redemption through your greedy act of worship. His hips stutter in response and the head of his cock twitches against the roof of your mouth.

He mumbles something akin to prayer and focuses his efforts, sliding further into your mouth until your nose presses against his pelvis and his cock settles in the back of your throat. You gag at the foreign pressure and try to pull away, but he settles a hand on the nape of your neck to hold you in place.

“That’s it, take it all.”

His thrusts are slow, lazy, careful not to overwhelm you. When he moves, it’s a gentle drag over your tongue, not the heedless intrusion you’d expected from him. He bucks his hips like he wants to know you’re enjoying it too.

“Fuck,” he grunts, chin dropped to his chest. “Your filthy mouth was made for this.”

You wish you could see him without the beskar disguising his reaction. The heave of his chest, the flex of his hands, the jump of his cock when you tongue the right spot – his body is so expressive, you have no doubt that his face would be too.

A few more juts of his hips and he’s pulling out of your mouth and forming a fist around his length, flushed skin glistening with your spit.

He chokes out a broken noise and angles his hips towards you, painting the evidence of your transgressions over your cheeks and your lips.

You touch your fingers to your face when he pulls away, eyeing his handiwork with a sound of approval. This part of yourself, it’s his now. Desecrated for the use of someone more sacred than yourself.

The corners of your mouth stretch into a grin. This is exactly the forgiveness you were looking for.

#sweetercalypso’s week of horror #Din Djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fic #din x reader #Star Wars #star wars x reader #star wars smut #priest!din #priest!din Djarin

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sophieinwonderland · 5 months

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Torn between "god is plural go brrrrr" and the fact that our system is collectively Unitarian (branch of christianity that doesn't believe in the trinity).

(/lh the handful of us that aren't atheists or polytheists (We're Unitarian Universalist specifically, which is very liberal, non-creedal, and very much not bible-centric, so this isn't uncommon, both within and outside our system) still tend to view god as plural just in a different way and for different reasons).

LOL! 🤣

You know, I'd actually love to hear the reasons you see God as plural as a Unitarian!

#plural #plurality #syscourse #christianity #god #religion #theology #endogenic #multiplicity #systems #system #unitarian universalism #plural system #endogenic system #pro endo #pro endogenic #pluralgang #actually plural #actually a system

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ltwilliammowett · 1 year

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Surrender

Surrender was often the last resort in a battle when a ship wanted to avoid complete destruction and vast numbers of casualties. In the Royal Navy this was not against the Articles of Admiralty, it was just important to fight to the full with great bravery. Those who failed to do so could expect to be court-martialled and punished accordingly.

Admiral Duncan Receiving the Sword of the Dutch Admiral de Winter at the Battle of Camperdown, 11 October 1797, by Samuel Drummond, 1827 (x)

However, if a ship surrendered, a final salvo was fired and the flag was taken down, but hoisting a white flag instead was not considered surrender, by the way. And feigning surrender or even firing on a surrendering enemy was frowned upon and could be tried in a creedal court. If the surrender was successful, however, it was customary for the defeated captain to hand over his sword to the victor as a sign of surrender. The victor then took the sword as booty, together with the ship, the goods and the crew. This pleased the victorious crew, who could now hope for prize money.

#naval history #naval battle #surrender #17th- 19th century #age of sail

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islamic-methodologies-made-easy · 8 months

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BE BRAVE, HIS HELP IS NEAR

“We sent not before you [O Muhammad] but men whom We inspired, chosen from among their people. Have they not traveled across the earth and seen the end of those before them? Verily the home of the hereafter is best for those who are mindful, will you not then understand? It wasn’t until those messengers lost all hope and thought that their message had been denied that Our help came to them: We saved whoever We pleased, but Our punishment shall not be averted from the guilty. Indeed in their stories, there is a lesson for people of understanding. This is not a forged statement but a confirmation of the previous scriptures, and a detailed explanation of all [creedal] matters; a guide and mercy for those who believe.” [The Qur’an (12:109-110)].

Help comes at the darkest moments when one has done all that he can, and lost all hope that anything else he does could produce a real change. Rest assured that as long as you remain righteous, or at least try to, help will always come. “It’s only after the darkest moment, that light begins to appear.” Palestine will be free.

#palestine #gaza

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tabernacleheart · 11 months

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Behind so much of the language of tolerance, acceptance, and non-judgmentalism in regard to religion is the profound [yet false] conviction that religious truth is unavailable to us and that it finally doesn’t matter what one believes as long as one subscribes to certain ethical principles. Provided one is a decent person, [many claim,] who cares if he or she is a devout Christian, Buddhist, Jew, or Muslim— or nonbeliever? And if that is the case, then why wouldn’t we see the variety of religions as a positive, one more expression of the diversity that so beguiles the contemporary culture? And given this epistemological indifferentism, wouldn’t any attempt at “conversion” be nothing more than arrogant aggression? [The reality is that] the Catholic Church places an enormous emphasis on doctrinal correctness. It most assuredly thinks that religious truth is available to us and that having it (or not having it) matters immensely. It does not hold that “being a nice person” is somehow sufficient, either intellectually or morally; otherwise, it would never have spent centuries hammering out its creedal statements with technical precision. And it most certainly does maintain that evangelization is its central, pivotal, most defining work. St. Paul himself said, “Woe to me if I do not evangelize” (1 Cor. 9:16); and Pope St. Paul VI declared that the Church is nothing but a mission to spread the Gospel. Neither the first-century St. Paul nor the twentieth-century St. Paul thought for a moment that evangelizing is tantamount to imperialism or that religious “diversity” is somehow an end in itself. Rather, both wanted the whole world to be brought under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. This is precisely why every institution, every activity, every program of the Church is dedicated, finally, to announcing Jesus... When any Catholic institution, ministry, or outreach forgets its evangelical purpose, it has lost its soul.

Bishop Robert Barron

#Bishop Robert Barron #evangelization #World youth day #conversion #preach the gospel #jesus christ #Tolerance #religious diversity #epistemology #Religious truth #We need to remember this

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lifephilosophys-blog · 4 months

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في حديث ايريك فروم حول الدين وتطوره، يظهر نظرته إلى الدين على أنه لغة رمزية تعبر عن التجارب الباطنية بطريقة حسية. يشير إلى أن الدين يستخدم لغة الرموز التي تكون مشتركة عند البشر وتعتمد على الرموز والمفاهيم التي تشكل جوهر الحياة الإنسانية. كما يؤكد على أن الدين يعتبر ظاهرة إنسانية تعبر عن الخبرات الإنسانية بشتى صورها.

في رؤية فروم، يصبح الدين والأساطير ولغة الأحلام جزءًا من نفس المظهر من تجاربنا الباطنية. يشدد على أن الأحلام والأساطير تحمل معانٍ عميقة تعبر عن جوهر الإنسانية وتعتبر جزءًا لا يتجزأ من الحياة الإنسانية.

بالنسبة لفروم، الدين ولغة الرموز المتداولة فيه لا تختلف في جوهرها عن لغة الأحلام التي نتحدث بها جميعًا في حياتنا اليومية. وهذا يعكس رؤيته الشاملة للدين والحياة الروحية ككل، مع التأكيد على العناصر الباطنية والروحانية التي ترتبط ارتباطًا وثيقًا بالإنسان.

إن تحطيم الأصنام التي تمتلئ بها حياتنا يرمز إلى الحاجة إلى تحرير الذات من القيود والقيم الزائفة التي تعرقل تطويرنا الشخصي والروحي. يدعو فروم إلى التواضع والحب الأخوي كمسار لتحطيم وتجاوز هذه القيود والأصنام.

لذلك، بغض النظر عن الانتماء الديني أو العقائدي، يجب أن نكون مولعين بالبحث عن الحقيقة الروحية والإنسانية العميقة، وأن نقدر التجارب الروحية والإنسانية بما فيها الخطأ والصواب. الجمع بين الاهتمام بالجوهر والتجربة بدلاً من الكلمة والهيكلة والتواضع والحب الأخوي هي الطريقة التي يرى فيها فروم تحقيق التطور الروحي والإنساني.

بموجب هذه الرؤية، يعتبر فروم أن الهدف المركزي للإنسانية هو النمو الروحي والإنساني، وينبغي لنا التعاون سويًا كأفراد ومجتمعات لتحقيق هذا الهدف. يجب علينا أن نسعى إلى فهم العمق الروحي للحياة والبحث عن الوحدة بين البشر من خلال التفاهم والتعاون بين الثقافات والأديان.

في النهاية، تدفعنا رؤية فروم إلى التفكير في دور الدين والروحانية بشكل أكبر من مجرد الطقوس والممارسات الشكلية. إنها تدفعنا إلى التفكير في الدين كوسيلة لفهم الذات والتواصل مع العمق الباطني للحياة، وكذلك كوسيلة للوصول إلى التواضع والحب الأخوي وتعزيز التطور الشخصي والجماعي.

In Erich Fromm's discussion of religion and its evolution, he presents his view of religion as a symbolic language that expresses inner experiences in a sensory way. He indicates that religion uses symbolic language that is common to humans and is based on symbols and concepts that constitute the essence of human life. He also emphasizes that religion is a human phenomenon that encompasses various human experiences.

In Fromm's perspective, religion, myths, and the language of dreams all become part of the same aspect of our inner experiences. He emphasizes that dreams and myths carry deep meanings that express the essence of humanity and are an integral part of human life.

For Fromm, the religion and the commonly used symbolic language within it do not differ fundamentally from the language of dreams that we all speak in our daily lives. This reflects his comprehensive view of religion and spiritual life as a whole, with an emphasis on the inner and spiritual elements closely related to humans.

The breaking of idols that fill our lives symbolizes the need to liberate ourselves from the constraints and false values that hinder our personal and spiritual development. Fromm calls for humility and brotherly love as a path to breaking and transcending these constraints and idols.

Therefore, regardless of religious or creedal affiliation, we should be passionate about seeking deep spiritual and human truth and appreciate spiritual and human experiences, including mistakes and successes. Combining a focus on essence and experience rather than words and structure, and embracing humility and brotherly love, is the way Fromm sees the achievement of spiritual and human evolution.

According to this vision, Fromm considers the central aim of humanity to be spiritual and human growth, and we should collaborate as individuals and communities to achieve this goal. We should strive to understand the spiritual depth of life and seek unity among humans through cross-cultural and interfaith cooperation.

Ultimately, Fromm's vision prompts us to think about the role of religion and spirituality beyond mere rituals and formal practices. It urges us to consider religion as a means to understand oneself and to communicate with the inner depths of life, as well as a means to promote humility, brotherly love, and enhance personal and collective development.

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repentingxnafs · 1 year

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❝ Among the most fundamental Islamic Creedal matters, is to believe that whatever Allah decrees for the believer is what’s best for him. What Allāh planned for you is always better than what you planned for yourself; that is complete submission to Allāh. May Allāh bless those who suffer for righteousness. ❞

- [Shaykh Musa Abdullah Jibril حفظه الله]

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wuxiaphoenix · 2 years

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On Writing: The Faces of Other Nations

Writing an isekai (or portal fantasy) based on an alternate version of history means digging into not just past events, but past beliefs. Otherwise the reactions of setting-native characters to your isekai’d guy just won’t ring right. It also means digging into your own culture, so you can accurately depict what happens when modern attitudes clash with something distinctly not.

And there’s one particular aspect of modern United States culture that may be too easily skipped over, if you don’t stop and think about it.

We are, culturally, faceblind.

The first reaction of your average American in the grocery store, on seeing someone of a completely different height, build, skin tone, bearing weird hair accessories or what have you, is not, “What country is he from?” It’s, “what part of my country is he from?”

An accent may or may not affect this reaction. Often not. An American in America lives with the ideal of, assume the person standing next to them is another American, unless they make it very clear that they’re not. And an American outside the United States tends to believe everyone should be treated with the same respect as a fellow citizen - again, unless someone makes it very clear they shouldn’t.

(How much we respect our fellow Americans does vary. Based on many things, including home region and the current proportion of jerks an individual has encountered. Your Mileage May Vary.)

This makes sense to us, because America is based on a creed, not an ethnicity. The Constitution, the Declaration, the belief that all are equal in the eyes of the law, and that the law applies to everyone, regardless of wealth, status, or birth. Believe that, and we likely won’t care if you’re a one-eyed one-horned Flying Purple People Eater... except to note that eating people is illegal, and no one is above the law, so....

Historically speaking, creedal nations are rare. Even when Europe claimed it was a “united Christendom” in the Middle Ages, a Irishman in Venice would have always been other.

Getting this cultural clash across in writing without dropping anvils is likely to be tricky. But I need to try, because when you land in another world you’ve got to get along with other good people around you. Who are so terribly confused when you see a face that’s obviously Not From ‘Round Here and don’t automatically think enemy.

Confusion can lead to conflict, and anger. But it can also lead to thinking. After all, it’s one thing to profess the Confucian belief that all humans matter. It’s another to see someone completely foreign act as though he never believed anything less.

At least everyone agrees the demon tigers are enemies....

#creative writing #isekai #portal fantasy #stray thoughts

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