in torment in hell

6

THE DIVINE COMEDY + THE WAR OF THREE QUEENS 

A traveller meets the three queens and their kingdoms…

The Queen Of Heaven sits on her throne, surrounded by an absolute perfect vision of loyalty. Grand and mighty, she rules an empire built for centuries to last. Surrounded by warriors, lovers… the world awaits the Queen Of Heaven to conquer and to rule. Believing she lives in the perfect utopia which was of her making, she is a worrisome danger.

The Queen Of Purgatory is the queen of love, as that motivates her. She’s climbing, forever it seems and facing challenges that test her pride, her wrath and her gluttony. This journey does not doom this queen, but strengthens her to become the Queen she is. She must encounter sinners and saints alike in her journey, and must make key decisions that will determine her fate. 

The Queen Of Hell is a tormented soul. Labelled as the Queen Of Hell, she’s lost within her darkness. Her story is one that is tragic and sad, and the Underworld is a twisted, warped place that is mysterious and unknown. Whilst this fears off travellers, the Queen embraces the darkness. She accepts the rejects, the unholy, the sinners and creates a strong army out of it. Her kingdom is as fearful as is its unlikely. 

Who You Belong To

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex, jealous Draco

Tags: @xx-thefandomssavedme-xx, @capsbuchanan, @justareader, @jarnesbrnes, @bovaria, @buckys-shield

Summary: Draco and you go to the ball but not together, but you do leave together.

A/N: Gryffindor reader because that’s how it needs to be to let this story work out.

Originally posted by harley-quinn

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He was dead. However, his nose throbbed painfully, which he thought odd in the circumstances. While he placed considerable trust in the understanding and mercy of his Creator, he harbored that residue of elemental guilt that made all men fear the chance of hell. Still, all he had ever heard of hell made him think it unlikely that the torments reserved for its luckless inhabitants could be restricted to a sore nose. 

On the other hand, this couldn’t be heaven, on several counts. For one, he didn’t deserve it. For another, it didn’t look it. And for a third, he doubted that the rewards of the blessed included a broken nose, any more than those of the damned.

While he had always thought of Purgatory as a gray sort of place, the faint reddish light that hid everything around him seemed suitable. His mind was clearing a bit, and his power to reason was coming back, if slowly. Someone, he thought rather crossly, ought to see him and tell him just what the sentence was, until he should have suffered enough to be purified, and at last to enter the Kingdom of God. Whether he was expecting a demon or an angel was uncertain. He had no idea of the staffing requirements of Purgatory; it wasn’t a matter the dominie had addressed in his schooldays. 

While waiting, he began to take stock of whatever other torments he might be required to endure. There were numerous cuts, gashes, and bruises here and there, and he was fairly sure he’d broken the fourth finger of his right hand again— difficult to protect it, the way it stuck out so stiff, with the joint frozen. None of that was too bad, though. What else?

Claire. The name knifed across his heart with a pain that was more racking than anything his body had ever been called on to withstand. 

If he had had an actual body anymore, he was sure it would have doubled up in agony. He had known it would be like this, when he sent her back to the stone circle. Spiritual anguish could be taken as a standard condition in Purgatory, and he had expected all along that the pain of separation would be his chief punishment— sufficient, he thought, to atone for anything he’d ever done: murder and betrayal included.

He did not know whether persons in Purgatory were allowed to pray or not, but tried anyway. Lord, he prayed, that she may be safe. She and the child. He was sure she would have made it to the circle itself; only two months gone with child, she was still light and fleet of foot— and the most stubbornly determined woman he had ever met. But whether she had managed the dangerous transition back to the place from which she had come— sliding precariously through whatever mysterious layers lay between then and now, powerless in the grip of the rock— that he could never know, and the thought of it was enough to make him forget even the throbbing in his nose. 

He resumed his interrupted inventory of bodily ills, and became inordinately distressed at the discovery that his left leg appeared to be missing. Sensation stopped at the hip, with a sort of pins-and-needles tingling at the joint. Presumably he would get it back in due time, either when he finally arrived in Heaven, or at the least, at Judgment Day. And after all, his brother-in-law Ian managed very well on the wooden peg he wore to replace his missing leg. 

Still, his vanity was troubled. Ah, that must be it; a punishment meant to cure him of the sin of vanity. He mentally set his teeth, determined to accept whatever came to him with fortitude, and such humility as he could manage. Still, he couldn’t help reaching an exploratory hand (or whatever he was using for a hand) tentatively downward, to see just where the limb now ended. 

The hand struck something hard, and the fingers tangled in wet, snarled hair. He sat up abruptly, and with some effort, cracked the layer of dried blood that had sealed his eyelids shut. Memory flooded back, and he groaned aloud. He had been mistaken. This was hell. But James Fraser was unfortunately not dead, after all.

Voyager

Tell Me It’s Okay

Title: Tell Me It’s Okay

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: None – Fluff

Summary: Dean comes back from a long hunt, and expresses his worries to Reader.  

A/N: This imagine is dedicated to the anon that requested it. I hope this is what you wanted. If not, please let me know and I’ll rewrite the whole thing for you. Also, I’m working on a part two for d.w. It should be posted soon. Anyway, enjoy!

Originally posted by spntrista

Reader

Even through the thick walls of bunker, you could hear the monstrous claps of the thunder and the merciless pounding of the pouring rain. Thunder storms didn’t scare you much. In fact, you found them quite beautiful.

However, your heart still twisted with worry for the Winchesters, or rather, a certain Winchester. And though you knew he was a good driver, you still laid on your side motionless, but wide awake.  

The door suddenly, but slowly squeaked open. You, due to your boyfriend’s cautiousness and overprotectiveness, grabbed for the knife hidden underneath your pillow and waited for the intruder. A few seconds of shuffling steps and stiffing around later, you felt the bed dip behind you, and the husky smell of leather, whiskey and rain invaded your nostrils.

His cold arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you closer into his hard, bare chest. You sunk into him, letting go of the knife.

A little, throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “Taught you well.” he whispered, his lips pressed against your ear.

You shut your eyes, letting his warmth engulf you. Turning in his arms to face him, you bit your lip. He smirked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He was always so sweet and affectionate after a very long hunt. One of his hands, unexpectedly, started to trail down your side, cupping your thigh and pulling it over his waist. Of course, he always managed to be a little handsy as well.

“That was more than a week.” you murmured, running your hands through his damp hair.

It was his turn to shut his eyes, leaning into your touch. “Sorry, baby,” he mumbled, shifting even closer to you. “The goddamn shapeshifter.”

You trailed your hands over his face, tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. His breath hitched at your touch, making you freeze. After a minute, you slowly trailed your finger up his chin and across his scruffy cheeks. He stiffened at your movements, slightly digging his fingers into your hip.

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, taking your hands away from his face.

His green eyes shot opened at the lost interaction. He sighed heavily, his eyes carefully watching you. “It’s not right.” he mumbled.

You furrowed your eyebrows together. “What?”

“This is too perfect. You-” he cut himself off, eyes flickering to your lips. “This is around the time something bad happens.” he explained, pulling you closer into him – if that was even possible at this point.

Your heart broke at his words. All these years of hunting and losing the ones he’d loved – his parents, Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Sam (multiple times). His cynical, pessimistic mind shouldn’t have been a surprise to you, yet tears still glassed over your eyes. “Dean,”

“Death follows me around everywhere,” he continued, cutting you off. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m scared,” he hesitantly admitted, his own eyes watering. “I don’t think I can handle losing someone else.”

You watched him in, probably, his most vulnerable state, your gut twisting at his grim words. With his voice now raw with pain, he whispered, “I don’t think I can handle losing you.”

A tear fell from his heart-rending green eyes, and you immediately wiped it away.

“Dean,” your own voice breaking.

You didn’t know what to say. How can you take years of pain and torment from someone who was tortured by the King of Hell? How can you ease the weight of such a heavy burden off someone who was willing to kill himself just to get a cursed mark off his skin? How do you comfort a person who was only ever comforted by misery and woe?

He noticed your loss of words, and murmured, “Tell me it’s okay.”

You gave a little nod, repeating his words. “It’s okay,” you gasped, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Then, it clicked.

“It’s okay to be happy now.” you assured, stroking his cheek with the back of your finger.

His sad eyes now gleamed with a certain understanding, and – perhaps – a tiny bit of hope. His lips twitched into a smile momentarily as he stared at you, baffled. “How did you-”

“You wouldn’t be this scared if you weren’t even a little bit happy.” you explained, with a little shrug and a small smile. “Besides, you’re getting easier to read.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Is that why it took you two years to say something other than my name?” he teased, as you wiped away the last of his tears.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, lightly nudging his shoulder.

He barely moved, a ghost of a smile hovering over his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, before sweetly pressing his lips to yours.

And against those plump, pink lips, you murmured, “I love you too.”  

With April 1st right around the corner, few things to keep in mind...

**People sensitive to mental illness/chronic illness/physical illness/invisible illness, be careful of number 13, people struggling with fertility be careful of number 9**

1. DO NOT DO THE INFAMOUS OREO TRICK! It’s that picture where they’re like “put toothpaste in someone’s oreos :’D” Don’t fucking do that people. That can send people to the hospital!

2. DO NOT put “regular” soda in a drink instead of “diet”. If a client asks you for diet, you fucking put diet. Why? There’s a lot of potential health issues if you do “regular” instead of “diet”

3. Don’t be an asshole. What I mean by this, is don’t maliciously go after someone and purposely emotionally torment them ( “I killed you family members” prank type deal) or maliciously harm them that could easily send them to the hospital ( “Haha, I lit you on fire!”). You can do the clear wrapping on a door or toilet seat (those are always funny as hell), but please don’t maliciously torment someone. That’s just mean.

4. Don’t be groping people. If you don’t have their consent, don’t fucking touch them. Don’t be grabbing girl’s bums. Don’t be pulling on dude’s hairs. 

5. Don’t be handcuffing people together. Seriously, if no one consented explicitly directly before something took place, don’t fucking do it.

6. Lacing food/drinks. I don’t care who it is, people have all kinds of allergies and health conditions today. Don’t send someone to the hospital.

7. Stink bombs. Avoid nut based products at all costs, since this is a very common allergy. True story: some idiot sent off stink bomb with nut products in it while I was in high school. A girl I knew had to be tubed (the nurse said she could barely get the tube down her throat in time because of how much swelling she had) and the EMS was called because she was deathly allergic to nut products.

8. Internet pics/vids. The RBG-split/3-D images give people with specific health conditions headaches. The “screamers” can break headphones and give people heart attacks. The quickly flashing contrast colors can give someone a seizure. The hard core porn stuff can get someone fired from work or have a super awkward conversation with police officers. The hard core gore/blood/organ stuff can also lead to an awkward conversation with police officers.

9. Pregnancies. This one is kinda touchy. If you know someone doesn’t have fertility issues, it can be amusing, but for those who do have fertility problems for any reason under the sun, don’t do it.

10. Adoption. This can ruin a young kid’s world. Don’t say “by the way, you’re adopted” or “we got you on sale” or anything along these lines. That’s just cruel.

11. Kids. If you’re a minor,sure, prank another minor. However, it might be awkward as hell (especially if the minor’s parent gets involved) if you’re legally an adult and try to prank a minor. 

12. FBI shit. Be careful. That’s all I am going to say. Don’t be saying things that could potentially get the FBI at your door. 

13. Chronic/Invisible Disorders. Be mindful of these, including suicide. It isn’t funny to “prank” a suicide or to say someone else committed suicide. 

Pranks can be fun and/or hilariously, but that doesn’t mean you gotta torture someone and/or risk a serious hospitalization. Have fun, but not maliciously at someone else’s expense. 

anonymous asked:

ok listen i have FINALS in two weeks and i do not need to have sizediffential!kink regarding sam and dean to torment me this way pLEASE (but hell yeah 10/10!)

How’s the studying going, anon?

the boys reacting to getting an ice cream headache during a date with their s/o?

For sure! This one was fun, I hope you like it!

Korekiyo Shinguuji

  • you two are actually having a really great time, conversation is going well, you’re getting along, and you seem to share a lot of interests!
  • so you’re a little surprised when he suddenly stops talking, deathgrips his ice cream cone so hard it shatters and practically explodes all over the table, and just slams his head down on the table.
  • you’re pretty sure he just died.
  • but no, not dead, you can hear him muttering to himself in his puddle of ice cream, crushed waffle cone, and probably tears.
  • “Is this the blackest side of being a human being?”
  • “Is being alive what it means to truly suffer?”
  • “With life…comes torment?”
  • who the hell is this man.
  • after a few minutes of dead silence, he perks back up and continued friendly conversation.
  • his face is covered in ice cream.
  • please help him.

Rantarou Amami

  • the second it hits, he tries to play it like absolutely nothing is wrong, and fails miserably.
  • his version of “acting casual” is acting WAY too suspicious.
  • he just kind of slams his hands down on the table and tries to put on a convincing smile, which looks absolutely agonized.
  • he’s sweating like a dog and just staring at you.
  • he looks like he’s trying not to scream.
  • finally you ask if he’s okay, to which he just kind of squeaks “MHM!” in response to.
  • he is definitely not “mhm”.
  • eventually it goes away and he relaxes, completely convinced that he fooled you.
  • you don’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t.

Ouma Kokichi

  • he literally smashes his ice cream cone against the table like a beer bottle and just screams “HOLY FUCK.”
  • and frankly you’re pretty startled!
  • he’s just gripping his head and standing there looking like he had an aneurysm and frankly you’re pretty concerned! because he looks like he’s gonna collapse or something!
  • he doubles over and just kind of screams dramatically before sitting down, putting on a bright smile, and dismissing it completely.
  • everybody is staring at you two.
  • ice cream? what ice cream? he didn’t have any ice cream. what’s an ice cream?
  • scream? of course he didn’t scream, why would he scream?
  • you’re just imagining things.

Shuuichi Saihara

  • he looks like he’s legitimately going to cry.
  • he stands up, a sniffling trembling mess, and tells you he needs a moment before running off to the bathroom.
  • you are stunned.
  • you two had just been talking, having completely regular conversation, and he had just broken and run off just like that.
  • he came back eventually, laughing nervously and explaining it was nothing but a headache.
  • what a puss.
  • but you love him anyway.
  • you buy him a new ice cream too! but only becaus he was gone so long that his melted on the table…
  • you’ll have to clean that up.

Kaito Momota

  • he’s 100% the kind of guy who somehow manages to get an ice cream headache literally every time he has ice cream.
  • that being a fact, you have NO IDEA why he would invite you out for ice cream again!
  • you warned him a million times, eat it slowly, and he promised you that this time, he would! no ice cream headache.
  • well, needless to say, he lied.
  • within two minutes of even having the ice cream, he had the corresponding headache.
  • he doesn’t say anything, just puts his head in his hands, but you totally know.
  • and you have absolutely no sympathy for him, because you warned him!
  • he recovers quickly, and you roll up a napkin and give him a quick slap on the head.
  • idiot.

Kiibo

  • is this…is this even possible?

Gonta Gokuhara

  • gonta’s never actually had ice cream before! he’s so excited!
  • plus gonta gets to have his first ice cream on a date with you! that’s so exciting!
  • which is kind of where the problem comes in.
  • because he’s so excited that he pretty much just inhales this ice cream, which is all well and good until the headache hits.
  • gonta feels utterly betrayed! you didn’t tell him ice cream would hurt!
  • you’re trying not to laugh because you feel bad, but this is adorable and stupid.
  • you explain to him that that’s just what happens when you eat ice cream too fast!
  • but gonta does not underst a n d-
  • maybe you’ll practice eating ice cream again another time.

Ryouma Hoshi

  • you’re a little confused when he suddenly just goes dead silent in the middle of your conversation.
  • he just kind of sighs deeply and stares at you.
  • then, quietly, he mutters. “fuck me running.”
  • you do not know how to respond to that.
  • you both sit there in a few moments of silence before finally it subsides after a mountain of your confusion, and he picks up your conversation again.
  • your boyfriend is a strange one.

It’s really strange. People believe Islam is so rigid that they can’t have any fun. You don’t have to kill your spouse with pure boredom to be “Islamic” You don’t have to just sit down together and read books all day. You don’t have to be on the tasbih 24/7 together. You don’t have to just speak about the torment of the hell fire and the crushing of the grave and make tawba. That’s not always so romantic and optimistic for a long term relationship. Go for walks, take trips out the city, tell each other jokes. Smile, laugh, have fun, converse and appreciate each other. These can all be acts which earn Allah’s pleasure and you are rewarded for them.

No one had more taqwa or responsibility than the Prophet ﷺ but he raced with Sayyidah A'ishah whilst on a journey to make her happy. He was humourous with her. He told her stories. He would share food and drink with her. He told her about how much he loved her. He would smile with her. He would ask her about how she felt. He would ease her problems and make beautiful her day. Her favourite moments of life were whilst she was with him. رضي الله عنها

—  Shaykh Mohammad Aslam
Save Me

Originally posted by spnjensenlove02

Title: Save Me

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (kinda), Sam, Rowena (mentioned)

Rating: NC-17 for angst, attempt at humor and explicit sexual content. Also some reference to the effects of drugs.

Summary: Something’s wrong with Sam and Dean calls someone he’s been trying to forget for help.

A/N: I’m trying to get used to writing in third person again so I’m sorry if this is sloppy. Constructive criticism and comments are highly appreciated! (Also, sorry for the ginormous gif, but it does things to me.)

Click here if you want to hear the Queen song I used. Dean made up his own lyrics, but it might help to hear the tune.

This is based off a prompt given to me by @therealdeanwinchester13 from the super crafty “Writing Box Challenge.” Thanks for allowing me to participate! The prompt is, “On a scale of zero to Australia, how dangerous is it?”

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