#sulphuric demon

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

Comedian Ginger Billy: Redneck Night Before Xmas! LOL Funny Comedy Laugh

[tricitymonsters]

Lol wym sulfur smells absolutely AWFUL

CRYINGGG I mean personal olfactory preferences aside, if it really smelled as bad as a fresh fart or a rotten egg they wouldn't make bath soaks/salts with fragrances to specifically mimic the sulphuric smell of hot spring water. ALSO like off the top of my head, sulphur is also a component of gunpowder which is another highly romanticized scent so i think honestly sulphur has a well-earned and positive place in our collective esoteric fanfictiony smells.

[smaller-comfort]

Fun fact! Hydrogen sulphide is the thing that smells like sewer gas and eggs; sulphur dioxide, on the other hand, causes the pungent lit-match smell. Generally, when talking about demons and hellfire, it's referring to the "smells like matches" sulphur compound and not the "smells like boiled cabbage" one. But both are sulphurous smells.

PSA: if you describe your sexy demons as "smelling sulphurous/like brimstone," that's not just vague mystical words.

Those are real smells.

They smell like farts.

Please know this. I'm begging you.

[hell0mega]

I'm very normal about the fact that Crowley said he "didn't really fall" that he "sauntered vaguely downwards" and being damned is "not so bad once you get used to it" but then also when he's lamenting alone talking to god he says "i only ever asked questions" "that's all it took to be a demon" and then when he's alone drinking and grieving over his murdered best and only friend he says he "never wanted to be a demon" and that he "took a million light year fall into a pool of boiling sulphur" I'm normal about the fact that he lies to Aziraphale about how badly he feels about being a demon

[smudgeandfrank]

⚠️GO S2 SPOILERS⚠️

Fallen Pt 5

Voice of God: This seems an appropriate time to share a couple of the characteristics of demonic corporations. First, demon corporations are stronger than human bodies, just in case of incidents such as this one. If not for this fact, Crowley would have most certainly discorporated when his skull met the rock. Not that he is safe from such a fate, at the moment. Second, the blood of demonic corporations is black, due to the mixing of sulphur with previously angelic genes.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

For all you people who voted to smell like sulphur, I have wonderful news for you about what will happen if you just eat like a shit ton of eggs, beans and cabbage.

Congratulations! You are now a Magic-User!!

[ayo-edebiri]

I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then... oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys. Oh, hey, the food hadn't been that good lately. I didn't have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I'm doing a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur.

[sweetcocopowder]

Could i have a demon dean fic with the prompts "Are you afraid of me?" And "Take it off" with a male reader please

Prompt 6 | Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male! Reader

Synopsis: You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut. Tongue fucking. Size kink. Dean's a big boy. Reader's short. Praise. If i miss anything, please tell me. It's late at night.

Notes: I am so sorry that this took forever to post. This is probably the longest fic for the Milestone. I wanted to get it right since these types of prompts take me forever to write. But, I hope your enjoy hehe

You can’t get your breathing under control. It comes short and shallow that it makes your head dizzy and light. It actually worked. The ritual actually worked. You stumble backwards, your feet catching against each other on the loose gravel as you fall on your ass. So much for first impressions.

The demon stands tall in the middle of the crossroads clad in a pitch black suit. He sweeps a hand through his blonde hair, trying to tame it but some strands still fall over his freckled face. His black eyes scan over his surroundings before they flicker to an intoxicating green. They set upon you, a frown forming deep upon his features.

“You’re a little pipsqueak now aren’t you,” the crossroad’s demon comments.

At that, you’re quick to your feet, dusting yourself off as thoroughly as you can. You puff out your chest and square your shoulders, because you’re in charge. You’re the one that summoned this demon. You’re the one making the deal. How dare he call you that when you’re the only offering him something in return.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at him, but your voice comes out cracked.

The demon chuckles, a set of fangs showing from behind his lips. He walks towards you, and you quickly realize just how much taller he is than you. You’re short for a man, only coming up to a 5’5. And standing next to someone over 6 feet is always something.

“I can call you whatever I damn well please,” the demon snaps.

You flinch slightly, brows furrowing in anger at the mouth on this hellish creature. He may not have any horns. Or no tail. Or any hooves in those dress shoes he wears. But he sure as hell smells like a demon. Sulphur at its finest.

“I’m here to make a deal,” you get back onto topic, the reason why you even summoned him here in the first place.

The demon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. Didn’t summon me for a chit chat now did you?”

He pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer, inspecting you. He moves your head back and forth, looking over every inch of you. You swat his hand away at the feeling of your cheeks flushing something hot.

“Is it money you want? You want your girlfriend to love you? Want a promotion at your job you’ve been stuck in for eight years? Or want your boss dead?” The demon lists off on his clawed fingers.

“What!? No!” You bark out.

“A new car? Your partner to be pregnant?” The demon asks a few more things. “I can do that myself if you want. If you’re the one shooting blanks then you’ve come to the right person. Probably the straightest and strongest shooter you’ve met!” He chuckles loudly.

“No! What are you going on about?”

The demon laughs harder, the noise seeming loud out in the open, deserted road. “Then what is it you want, pipsqueak?”

You ignore the comment. “I want to be six foot tall,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster.

The demon goes silent. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if you’re pulling his demonic leg. But when you stand there in silence, not speaking a punch line, it settles into the demon that you aren’t joking.

As much as you’d like to be joking, you’re not. You’re sick and tired of people belittling you because of how short you are. Treating you like a child even though you’re a grown ass man. It’s humiliating at some points. And this demon is just showing you that it’s all true.

How will you explain it when you come back to your boring office job six feet tall? You’ll get to that afterwards.

“So,” the demon clears his throat. “You want to sell you soul to be six feet tall? Am I correct?” He asks bluntly, gesturing his hands around as he speaks.

You nod with a, “Yes.”

The demon pops a hip out with a hand placed over it. You watch the motion before dragging your eyes back up. You’d be a fool to admit the demon before you isn’t hot. You wonder if this is what he looked like before he became a demon. How does becoming a demon even work?

The demon shrugs. “Well I guess I know people that have done worse.” He sighs. “Do you know how a crossroads deal is made?” The demon asks with a cocked eyebrow. He makes his way towards you again, reaching out and patting down your tie.

“Yes. A kiss to seal to deal,” you say with confidence.

Just a simple kiss.

“I do things differently,” he says as he hooks a finger into the tie.  

“What?” You utter out weakly before you can control yourself.

With the smell of burning fabric, the fabric touching the demon’s finger burns a neat line. It falls off, flopping to the ground. His green eyes land on you and you find yourself unable to speak. A hand hooks into your belt and you stiffen up greatly, your face burning a bright red once again.

“My deals are struck a lil’ more intimately. A little more hands on,” the demon grins, his lips only mere inches away from yours.

You can smell the demon better than before now. The smell of sulphur still lingers, but there’s something else that lingers. Something much sweeter. It’s not a pleasant combination of smells though. But what else did you expect a demon to smell like. Rainbows and unicorns?

But you know what the demon is talking about. You summoned a cross roads demon. Not a fucking succubus.

Yet at the same time, you don’t want to have to do the entire ritual again just to get an ugly demon. It would be a shame to pass up on an opportunity like this. Yes? Maybe you are a little messed up in the head. But those green, green eyes. You can’t seem to look away from them.

“Do you still want to be six foot tall?” The demon all but growls out right in your ear.

You swallow thickly. What harm could getting fucked by a demon to be a little bit taller do? You’re just selling your soul.

“Y-yes,” you utter out.

The grin that spreads across the demon’s face is devious. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, his voice low and even.

It goes straight to your crotch though. You’ve never had anyone come onto you like this but you’re quickly realizing you might be more into it than you may have first realized. You swallow thickly, not being able to look away from the demon’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you squeak out.

The crossroads demon takes a large step away from you with a hearty laugh spilling from his lips. You’re confused. You can’t help but stand there dumbstruck at the sudden change. With the demon’s back turned, you quickly adjust yourself in your suit pants. Don’t tell yourself that he was joking?

The demon turns back around to you, his eyes looking you up and down as if you’re a piece of meat. You can’t help but step from one foot to the other under the watchful, dark gaze.

“Take it off,” the demon suddenly says.

“W-what?” You utter.

“I said,” the demon makes his way back towards you, placing a finger on your chest. “Take this fucking suit off or otherwise you’ll be walking home in nothing but your birthday suit.”

Oh. Oh. Oh my lord. You can feel yourself become as bright as a tomato and yet, you follow the command instantly. You begin stripping, starting with your coat and button up, then to kicking off your shoes. With only a split second of hesitant, you take off your suit pants and hesitate at your underwear. You look to the demon before you who only cocks an eyebrow your way. You swallow thickly again, butterflies coming to your chest as you strip everything. You cover yourself subconsciously with your hands in front of yourself, trying to hide your bulge.

You flinch at the warm hand splayed across your chest suddenly. You can’t drag your eyes away from the crossroads demon. He licks his lips in anticipation, liking what he sees before him.

His hand glides up your neck to the back of your hair, gripping in to tug your face upwards to him. He’s so much taller than you it’s almost intoxicating. You’re almost standing on your toes as he comes down for a kiss, capturing your lips with teeth and tongue. You can’t help but moan into the kiss as the demon grabs onto your sides tightly. His sharp nails dig into your soft skin causing a harsh shiver to run down your naked back.

The demon pulls away, looking down at you with devious green eyes. A string of saliva connects your flush lips to his and all you find yourself doing is staring.

“Now,” the demon purrs, “Did you want to take this on the hard gravel or do you want to try and stand and take it?” He asks lowly.

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. The thought of your back or stomach getting scuffed up doesn’t sound all that pleasant in your eyes.

“I’ll be alright standing,” you say, a slight shake in your voice.

The demon shrugs with a cocky expression on his face. “Alright,” he mumbles, “It’s your deal.”

He then drop to his knees in the loose gravel, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs onto your thighs and spins you around. Definitely not the direction you thought this was heading, but you don’t complain otherwise. You can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lips at the sudden direction this is turning. This is not what you thought would be happening tonight, but you can’t remember the last time you were properly laid. So may as well take this as it is.

Large hands spread your cheeks open and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You try and hold back the whimper that tries to escapes your throat as hot breath touches your skin. You bite down on your knuckles as you bend over just a little, giving the demon a better look.

“I’m gonna loosen you up a bit,” you hear the grin on the demon’s voice, his face buried under you. “Don’t want this to be unpleasant is all. May be a demon but I’m not a monster.”

“Who would hav- AH!”

You don’t get much warming than that before a hot tongue licks from the base of your balls all the way to your hole. You shiver violently at the feeling. Does his tongue feel much stickier and thicker than a normal humans or is that just your imagination? He licks a long strip from your balls to your ass again, this time slower than the last. And this time you can’t help the sound that comes from your mouth. You place both of your hands on your knees with your head bowed between your shoulders. This might be a little harder than you thought.

“Don’t hold back, pipsqueak. I love hearing those beautiful noises,” the demon says huskily. “It’s like a reward.”

You go to say something, but everything and anything you were going to do is thrown away as a thick tongue is pushed past the tight rim of your ass. You let out a startled cry at the odd sensation of the hot, sticky tongue within you. It’s as thick as at least three fingers and feels longer than such. It prods and seeps deeper within you, as if searching for something. It stretches you oddly, the strange feeling earning a whimpered moan from your lips.

You bend over a little more, fisting your hands on your knees as they begin to shake. You shudder an exhale as the demon’s tongue curls within you, folding on top of itself to make itself thicker before coiling back out. This is not what you had in mind, but you must admit it does feel amazing. If he keeps this up, you might have to take it to the gravel because your legs might just give way.

You can’t help but keen and gasp at the warm tongue prodding and pushing against your prostate. Your legs shake as it only feels like he goes deeper, and deeper. A sheen of sweat starts to cover your skin that’s quickly cooled in the cold night air.

Your cock sits half hard between your legs, but it wouldn’t take much more to get yourself to full length. You wrap a hand around your cock, giving yourself a few dry strokes. You can’t help the groans and whines that slip through your parted lips as the demon seems content in eating you out for the time being.

After another minute of prodding and twisting, you feel yourself already coming close. This is all so new and blissful that you can’t help yourself. You’re coming in your hand before you even know it. You gasp and groan, clenching your jaw as the tongue retracts from within you. A little shame rids into your gut, but the satisfaction out weights it for now.

A dark chuckle comes from behind you, “You lasted a little longer than some of the other fellas that come to me.”

“Nice to know,” you pant out.

You don’t think you can stand much longer. You return your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“But we ain’t done, pipsqueak,” the demon rumbles as he stands to his feet.

You peer over your shoulder with wide eyes to catch the demon wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His blonde hair is ruffled, and those green eyes only watch you with a hunger that’s on the verge of starving.

“Deal isn’t struck until I come in you,” he says bluntly.

“W-what?” You stutter.

The demon leans into your back, wrapping his arms around your middle and hooking his chin on top of your head. He engulfs you fully, holding on tight so that you can’t leave. He leans down and breathes into your ear, and you can’t help but freeze up and become ridged.

He speaks slower and gruffer this time, his voice rough in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you come again from just my cock. And nothing else. And then I’m going to fill you up so that you, a little pipsqueak like yourself can become nice and tall to impress everyone around you.”

Goosebumps run across your cool skin at the thought of such. You’ve never had anyone talk to you like this. You’ve never let anyone talk to you like this, but oh my do you like it a little bit too much. The rough words go straight to your soft cock, making it twitch.

“Do you want me to do that?” The demon asks as one of his hands slides back around to your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. “Can you do that for me? Hmm?”

You breath out shakily, “Y-yes, please.”

You can feel him grin again against your neck before giving your flushed skin a kiss. He moves away but just enough so that he can undo his belt. The clinking of the buckle is loud on the open road, and you suddenly become very aware of where you are. You glance around at the empty fields that surround the gravel crossroads. No one comes down here and you bloody hope that no one decides to spontaneously come down a deserted road. But all of that is quickly washed away as a thumb prods into your saliva slicked ass. You grit your teeth at the wet sound and the feel of the cool saliva running down your legs.

The demon hums behind you, almost satisfied with what he’s inspecting. “I think I over did it a little, but you’ll be perfect all the same.”

The thumb disappears to only be replaced by the warmth of the demon’s cock. From what you can feel, he’s big. You can’t help but tense up as you suddenly over think everything. But a hand comes around your front, resting over your heart.

“Oh my,” the demon hums. “Now now, that won’t do. Relaaax, pipsqueak. I ain’t going to do this if you don’t want to. It’s your deal after all.”

The statement does in fact calm you down. You’re here to make a deal. He may be a demon, but he hasn’t hurt you as of yet. Which is reassuring to you right now.

“L-Let’s seal the deal,” you shakily utter out. Not out of fear, but more anticipation and need.

A low chuckle in your ear has your soft dick twitching. The demon pushes past the rim of your ass, the head of his girthy cock slipping in easily. You gasp loudly as he pushes in a little further before pulling out and slamming his hips flush against your ass. He bottom’s out quickly, the entire length of his dick sitting snuggling inside of you. He worked you open well enough to do so, a deep chuckle emitting from his flushed lips. He curves in just the right way that hits against your prostate almost perfectly. The way that has your knees becoming weak and leaves you breathless. He stretches you a little painfully, more so than his tongue but you find yourself only wanting more. The pleasure that courses through your gut fizzles your head and you find yourself not thinking straight.

The demon begins a quick pace, using the hand on your chest to keep you in position as he thrusts into you. He more or less towers over you, being able to hold you up if your legs decided they didn’t want to support you any longer.

The noises that comes from your mouth are ones of pure bliss. You don’t know where to put your hands and after a while you end up placing a one on top of the demon’s on your chest. He chuckles at that, low and deep into the nape of your neck before grabbing a hold of both of your wrists. He crosses your arms in front of your chest, holding onto you tightly as he pounds his hips into your ass. The wet plap of the demon’s hips is numbed out by just how loud you are. You whine and keen and moan with every thrust and every inch he gives you.

You try to catch your breath but every time it’s knocked out of you with each thrust. You’re unable to keep yourself quiet at the closeness and the fulfilment of the demon. He breathes into your neck, mouthing words and kisses into your sweaty skin. Your once soft dick now bounces between your legs half hard. You don’t think you could handle anything touching your dick at the moment. Everything buzzes and trembles in all the right ways.

“You’re probably the best one yet,” the demon grins in your ear. “Taking my cock like a good lil’ boy.”

The praise makes you feel high. You get lost in everything, the constant stretch and pull of the demon pounding without tiredness into your ass. You hunch over, allowing better access for the demon and he follows you. Towering over you, holding you close to his chest. Engulfed in his arms that could wrap around your entirely.

You come a second time, this time being much harsher than the first. You forget how to breath and forget where you are for a second. The demon lets up. Even when you’ve tightened around him, it only makes his movements even more driven. He pumps once, twice before driving his cock deep within you. The warm sensation of him filling you makes your entire body shudder. Makes your dick twitch, expelling a little more cum before once again softening between your legs.

Your legs tremble and shake and if it weren’t for the demon holding onto you, you would have fallen on your face by now in the gravel. You breath heavily, trying to catch your breath as the demon makes sure every last drop of him is expelled inside of you. Sealing the deal.

He pulls out and you whine at the sudden loss. It’s a pathetic noise that you can’t stop. You never knew you could make so many noises until tonight. Nothing that has ever been drawn from you before. And find yourself having loved every moment.

“Can you stand?” The demon chuckles.

You lick your lips and swallow thickly. After a while, you nod sharply as you drag your feet under you. The demon lets you go but keeps his hands on you, afraid you may fall to your knees. But you don’t, you shake a little, but you stand all the same.

You can feel the demon’s cum drippling down your leg and you already know it’s going to be a fun five hour drive home. You might have to grab a motel because five hours sounds like five days right now.

When you turn to face the demon, you now stand eye to eye with his green gaze. He grins from ear to ear with a cocked eyebrow. The deal has been struck.

You don’t feel any different, but the ground does now look as if it’s further away. You’ve gotten your extra inches. Just like that.

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.

This makes the crossroads demon laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. Crow’s feet scratch at the corner of his eyes. He points to you with a toothy smile.

“You know, if you ever want to make another deal, call on me personally,” the demon chuckles deeply, “This was fun.”

That, actually sounds like a good idea. You work in an office. You’re digging yourself an early grave anyways.

“And how should I-“ you have to lick your lips, your entire mouth dry. “How should I do that?” You ask.

“Dean,” the demon finally greets himself. “The name’s Dean.”

-

:)

[metalmiez]

“What’re up to now, angel?” Crowley mumbled while sipping on another glass of red wine and watching the angel cautiously putting the vinyl onto the gramophone.

“Wait and see” the angel replied, sobered up enough so he was able to put the needle onto the Vinyl safely without damaging it by drunken hands. Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes, killing the whole glass of wine in one sip, then glanced over the edge of his glasses as the first tones of the song started to play.

Aziraphale just smiled fondly which caused the demon to roll his eyes again and let his head fall backwards over the edge of the sofa he was spreading his lanky limbs in a nonchalant way for the last fourty minutes. He put his black hat over his face like he was going to take a nap. He would not admit that he quite liked the slow pace of the playing song, as far as his wine fogged drunken mind was picking up. Whatever.

“Crowley?”

The angel’s tone was surprisingly serious and the demon peaked one sulphur yellow eye out under the hat to glance at Aziraphale.

“What?” he snarled but not in an angry way. Aziraphale was nervously holding up one hand in the demon’s direction. Oh Satan, please not another magic trick. He was quite done for any other of the angel’s magic tricks for at least the next century or so. Crowley grumbled and hid his face again under his hat.

“Didn’t we agree on you retiring the magic tricks, angel?”

“Er. What? I- No. No magic tricks. I, uhm-“

Crowley didn’t have to look at the angel to just know that he was nervously fumbling on his celestial golden ring. He pretended that he wasn’t annoyed by the angel’s stuttering. He heard a very audible exhale.

“Well, I- I wanted to ask you to dance.”

If you want to read further, I just uploaded my very first GO-related one-shot on AO3:

[queerautism]

Fuck It this is my gender now

I was born to be an old timey alchemist Tbh

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

i'm also a big fan of both! maybe tav will get the whip this time? i'm a sucker for raphael in traditional devil setting, it scratches something in my brain. for the rest, whatever you want is fine with me

Tav tested her restraints. Not looking for weakness, no. She expected none. The chains around her wrists were heavy-duty and clinched tight, biting into her skin. She wanted some leeway. She’d been strung up and dangled like a prime cut of meat, just high enough that her feet lifted off the ground without supporting her entire weight, leaving her strained and uncomfortable. That she was nude only made things worse. Avernus’ air was dry and hot, yet Tav shivered; she was waiting for him, and the dread, the anticipation, chilled her to the bone. She had no way to know how long he kept her waiting. An hour, an eternity, it was all the same. When she finally sensed him enter the room, each of his footfalls causing tight spasms in her belly as he approached her, she was already breathless.

“My, my,” purred Raphael, clear delight in his hellish eyes as he observed his prisoner. “So well-behaved…not even a squeak from you. I almost forgot you were in here.” He reached out one big and warm red paw and cupped her chin, lightly dragging the claw of his thumb across Tav’s bottom lip. “Unfortunately, no one leaves the Room of Shame without submitting to their punishment, but that’s a rule you know intimately…isn’t it?”

“I…” Tav hesitated. Raphael’s expression did not change, but he traced her lip again, this time pressing just hard enough to make a thin scratch. Tav winced at the sting, a taste of what was to come. “Yes, I know,” she murmured.

“Of course you do. And you know exactly why you’re here, hanging so…precariously…yes? Remind me.” The way he curled his smoky words with such sweetly sinister intent never failed to heat Tav’s cheeks, or moisten her sex. Apart from his grip on her face, Raphael was keeping himself out of reach. Reminding her of the distance, metaphorical and physical, between them. He was untouchable and she, a wriggling morsel for him to play with.

“I’m being punished because I…because…” Tav didn’t want to admit her transgression aloud. Raphael hummed throatily, his black and fire eyes glittering with dark delight.

“Every second you hesitate is another lash, dear…”

“I’m being punished because I played with the incubus without permission,” she blurted. She wasn’t sorry and he knew it.

“Indeed you did. You took advantage of my previous generosity and indulged in my unruly pet’s attention. How many lashes do you think you deserve for that, audacious little mouse?”

“Ah…um…t-ten?”

“Ten?” Raphael barked; laughed. “Ohhh, audacious and foolish, aren’t you? Were I not in such a good mood, I might’ve decided you deserved flaying instead for that.”

Tav shuddered. She was both lucky and unlucky as a warlock, with such a temperamental patron. She was too useful to be disposed of. There was the sound of infernal displacement and a whiff of fire and sulphur, and Raphael’s unruly pet himself swaggered into the room.

“Oh, excellent! You haven’t started yet,” Haarlep crooned.

“You weren’t invited,” Raphael growled. “Go back to the boudoir where you belong.”

“And miss a good old fashioned whipping? I think not.” The incubus clicked his fingers and summoned a chair that he, sensual and over the top, folded himself into, ready to watch.

“Fine.” The master of the house decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. “But be quiet and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Not a problem.” Haarlep winked at Tav. She couldn’t hold his lust-laden gaze, dropping her eyes to his bare feet – long, clawed toes that he deliberately wriggled, rubbed the arch of one foot with, reminding Tav of when she, out of her mind on spit and pheromones, eagerly gagged on them to the sound of the demon’s twisted laughter. He made her experience shame and humiliation beyond anything even Raphael was capable of. Haarlep smirked when Tav looked away.

Disregarding the exchange, Raphael cleared his throat. He was, after all, the most important person in this room. “What delightful instrument shall I use on you…”

“Cat O’ nine tails,” Haarlep offered helpfully. His suggestion was ignored.

“How about one of my old favourites?” The devil clicked his fingers and a long, thin whip with a flared tip appeared in his hands. “Yes…this will do. Simple, but effective. Sometimes a bit of simplicity is all you need.” He petted the weapon, fondled the black leather, testing its weight in his hands. Tav watched with baited breath. Raphael grinned, making a show of rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He was enjoying drawing it out, knowing Tav’s racing thoughts, her growing dread, would only make her suffering taste better. She knew better than to beg for clemency. Begging excited him, meaning he was inclined to strike her far more times than he promised. All she could do was wait. In a way, that was worse than the whipping itself.

Get on with it, please, she thought, on the chance that he might be peering into her mind, hit me already.

Raphael prowled around her, a lion circling his prey. Tav tensed, jolting when he stroked the length of her spine with one claw. “Such a pretty canvas waiting to be painted…where shall I make the first stroke?”

Deafening silence. Tav’s own heavy breathing. Then a mighty crack – the whip split the air, and Tav’s skin. For a brief, merciful moment she didn’t feel it, but the agony wouldn’t be denied. Sharp, burning. Tears sprang up in Tav’s eyes. Her body arched, her mouth open but her scream silent, shock and pain stopping her from making a sound. Good, because Raphael preferred it if she fought just a little, if she refused to give him what he wanted until he broke her. Haarlep shifted where he sat, eager and lascivious.

“How was that, sweet mouse?” Raphael cooed.

“F-fine,” Tav managed through grit teeth.

“Hmm…perhaps I need to make the next one harder.”

She could picture him raising his arm up higher, bending into the strike. He grunted as he swung. Tav couldn’t keep quiet this time, making a strangled noise as the whip ripped her flesh. Her mouth filled with blood; she’d bitten through the meat of her cheek.

“How about that one?” Tav struggled to speak, fought to push words through her copper-wet mouth. The devil chuckled. “Surely you’re not done in already…we’re only on the second…”

“No…I’m f – it’s f-fine.”

“Good girl.”

Tav briefly whited out with the third, calculated strike. He’d got her across her lower back. She could only imagine the expression on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, because when her vision returned she saw Haarlep avidly watching her, feasting on her torture, his thighs spread. He squeezed and rubbed his fattening cock still in his harness. His forked and fraudulent tongue licked his thin lips that were pulled into a serpentine smile. Raphael released a quiet groan from behind. Arousal and frustration went into his next strike, and the next, and the next. Again and again and again. No break between, no leering in her ears.

Someone was screaming, guttural and wheezing. Tav realised it was her. She could feel her warm blood dripping down her back, over the swell of her ass. Raphael was shredding her raw; Haarlep had freed his red, ridged prick and was stroking it leisurely, enjoying the fruits of his impish, infernal misbehaviour. Never punished, always rewarded, but Tav just couldn’t hate him for it.

“There, now,” Raphael crooned, sounding a mite breathless, awed by his work. He rounded her. Through blurry eyes Tav saw a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, a lock of black hair unkempt from his effort. The whip was soaked crimson. The devil’s erection strained in his trousers and he was alight with fiendish frenzy. His tail swayed to and fro. He spoke with pride. “Quite the piece I’ve made of you this time, I must say.”

“It looked good from the front, too,” sighed Haarlep dreamily. “Choke her on your cock and you’ll complete it, I think.”

Raphael hummed, loosening his belt. His dick, hard and veined and heavy, its thick head leaking hot cum, sprang free. He clicked his fingers and Tav lowered to the ground, collapsing onto her knees – perfect height for Raphael to feed that fat dick between her slick and bloodied lips, into her warm and slack mouth. He groaned deep in his throat when his precum-sticky tip touched the back of her throat and Tav gagged. “For once, Haarlep, you’re right about something.”

[justhereforthemeta]

Crowley and the Fall: Looking where the furniture isn't

Furfur, 1941: "We were in the same legion. Just before the fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?"

Crowley: "I remember going into battle. I don't remember being there with you."

Um... does Crowley's professed memory track with what we know about his fall? Setting aside for a moment that he doesn't remember Furfur - I mean, who just casually *saunters* into battle, really? In theory, it sounds like Crowley must have, but that's not what his "I remember going into battle" sounds like. It's been said before, but something about the circumstances of Crowley's fall (what little we know of it, at least) doesn't smell right. What we know is:

First, Crowley asked questions.

These questions antagonized the Metatron.

At some point, having gotten no satisfactory answers, Crowley began "sauntering vaguely downward," hanging out with the wrong crowd out of...boredom? Boredom with making nebulae? Nahhh. "Food hadn't been that good lately" (ahem, angels don't eat) sounds a lot like a euphemism for not enjoying the things you used to enjoy anymore. Ennui, maybe depression. Comes of your work feeling pointless, when you think you've been contributing to something big and meaningful that turns out to just be fancy wallpaper, something that was always meant to get torn down eventually anyway (ugh, Crowley, you and I should go get a whiskey after work sometime).

Eventually, that "wrong crowd" becomes a legion marching into battle on the plains of heaven.

Lucifer's side loses, and Crowley finds himself "suddenly doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." Funny that whilst talking to no one but himself in the bar in season 1, Crowley characterizes his Fall as "sudden" with no mention of a precipitating rebellion or battle at all. Either way, it seems like there'd be a lot of distance for him to cover to get from "I'm feeling profoundly disappointed; what once sustained me has lost its flavor" to "I'm going to violently overthrow the system and put these other guys in charge." Especially for the one demon we know of who still appeals directly to God.

Anyway, that half-baked word casserole is my basis for theorizing that Crowley did ask questions, but he never violently rebelled. "Going into battle" is the sort of thing one does with some conviction, not in an attitude of casual, sauntering disaffection. And even if he was hanging out with the wrong crowd, Crowley has never been a mindless follower: he'd be just as likely to question and critique Lucifer/Satan as the Almighty Herself. If Crowley did fight in the war (big if, if you ask me), I suspect it was on the side of Heaven. Then at some point his memory was tampered with to make him forget which side he'd been on. The fog of war and all that...

One last thought on this topic: Saraquael. She claims to have worked with Crowley on the horsehead nebula; moments later, we see on heavenly instant replay that she was the angel tapping at their phone to look for Gabriel's memory so that it could be wiped. Was her question actually meant to test Crowley, to see how much he'd managed to remember?

Saraquael, only angel to recognize Metatron when he strolls into the bookshop - are you the one who performed the wipe of Crowley's memory on Metatron's behalf?

I haven't learned yet how to get good screenshots, but if you can, hit pause on Crowley's face just before the electrical sounds go off in heaven after Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He's turned around from the screens to look directly at Saraquael in this shot. His eyebrows are raised and we can see his narrowed eyes clearly through his sunglasses. He KNOWS.

[fellthemarvelous]

Fandom acting like Aziraphale is the Bad Guy for asking Crowley to become an angel again is something else. I'm not arguing that offering to turn him into an angel again was the right thing to do, but CONTEXT MATTERS!!

Things Crowley has canonically said about his fall:

"I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then… Oh, lookie here, it’s Lucifer and the guys. Oh, hey, the food hadn’t been that good lately. I didn’t have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I’m doing a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." (Aziraphale appeared to Crowley right after he said this so it's not outside of the realm of possibility that he found Crowley by following his voice in the first place.)

"I didn't mean to fall. I just hung around the wrong people."

"I didn't really fall. I just, you know, sauntered vaguely downwards." (Crowley says this to Aziraphale in the same scene he asks for holy water.)

Crowley was turned into a demon against his will.

Crowley hates being a demon too. It makes sense that Aziraphale would mistakenly believe that Crowley might accept the idea of becoming an angel again if what we were witnessing was Aziraphale being honest with Crowley in the final fifteen.

Again, I'm not saying he was right to ask that of Crowley, but let's not just decide that Aziraphale is a Bad Person for asking when he's witnessed ways in which Crowley has suffered as a demon.

There is indeed a lesson to be learned here, but why bring a little more context into the situation when it's just easier to villainize Aziraphale, am I right?

Yes, he was wrong to ask Crowley to become an angel again because it's not what Crowley wants. No, he's not a monster for offering. This is seriously all because of their stunning inability to communicate what it is they actually want.

Aziraphale has to break free from whatever hold Heaven still has on him, but he doesn't deserve to be treated like the Bad Guy.

It is entirely possible to criticize Aziraphale's actions without painting him as a monstrous abusive prick.

[tonydaddingham]

okay wait so im having a bit of a crisis over how crowley fell. my man says "i only asked questions" in one breath, and then "i just hung around the wrong people". then about the fall itself, "i just sort of... sauntered... vaguely downwards'", but then "did a million-light-year, freestyle dive in to pool of burning sulphur!"

so which is it, crowley? my buddy my pal? which shitshow actually happened here?

well, only one of these remarks was in front of aziraphale. funnily enough, the one about it being a leisurely stroll into hell like he owned the place. the others, the wrong friends, the asking questions and the horrific crash landing into dis or wherever was alone, only to the camera.

has crowley been trying to protect aziraphale from knowing not only was the fall incredibly painful and frightening, but that also protecting aziraphale from the knowledge that even though aziraphale warned him not to, he went and asked questions anyway? that in essence, aziraphale failed to save crowley?

alternatively, are all answers wrong, and crowley is either lying, or doesn't remember why/how he fell? did he even technically fall at all (reawakening theory that crowley fell for a reason -- see reason: god's ineffable plan -- and she wiped his memory of it)? crowley still has wings, and presumably the other demons don't - is this why he does?

edit bc important: "I play an ineffable game of my own devising..." 👀

[actual-changeling]

crowley has never felt "damned", not directly after his fall, not centuries later.

it is hard to feel damned on earth, as he had discovered, when there is sunlight on his skin and wine on his tongue. when there are joys big and small, reasons to smile, to laugh. when there's aziraphale smiling back.

unforgivable, yes. fallen for certain. unlovable, sometimes, usually right before deciding to go to sleep for a few decades with the hope it will be gone once he wakes again.

he does not believe in salvation—it is hard to see god as a saviour when you remember her ripping everything good you had ever felt out of your chest. besides, compared to earth, heaven is empty. a room with bleached floors and sterile walls, devoid of anything truly real, truly alive. so the opposite, eternal damnation, logically cannot exist either.

believe in one, believe in the other. believe in none, and you lose them both.

maybe, he had thought, maybe there is no salvation but there certainly is hope.

hoping is easy when the world is whole, when his world is whole and next to him, smiling, constant, watching him with shining eyes. it had felt natural then, to dream about a future where all of this works out—where they worked out.

crowley remembers the burning hope in his chest, more gentle than her grace but just as alive, and it had danced over his skin, feeling utterly content and at home. sunlight and smiles flowing together with bubbling joy.

he has never been further from being a demon, and yet, with his hands falling and his lungs aching, damnation becomes tangible, definable.

after burning up in the sky, in fire and flames and pools of boiling sulphur, he falls a second time. crowley sees it then, clear on his face and sharper than the claws that had ripped him open and stolen his stars from inside his heart.

fallen. unforgivable. unlovable.

"i forgive you"

damned.

there had been a holiness to living, wisps of hope and promises. all of it is gone now, taken, stolen.

they were yours anyway, he doesn't say. all of me, it was yours.

offered to him with weeping hands, open and truthful, his heart beating and bleeding and melting through his fingers. take it, he had said, it's yours. let it be yours.

angels. white-winged and perfect and whole. blessed, the definition of blessing, of holiness, of everything good.

so, crowley tells himself, if salvation exists, if i can see it crack and shatter right in front of me, whatever remains must be the opposite.

it is all he can feel, the hollow that had been him, no soul to damn and yet there he is—damned. alone. lonely. power ripples through him, tasting desperation, tasting fury and heartbreak, and he allows it, embraces it. it doesn't matter anymore.

bad. evil. a liar and an enemy and unlovable the way he is—and worst of all, unchangeable. somehow after everything, that is what broke them. maybe he has been wrong about himself all along.

damned for now and all eternity, so he might as well, right?

[talonabraxas]

The Caduceus

Hermes, personifying the dual powers of the Secret Wisdom, carries in his right hand a powerful symbol which represents the breathing in and breathing out of the cosmos and unites all the dual aspects of manifested existence. The caduceus of Hermes was said to have been given him by Apollo. It is a wand with two serpents twined round it, surmounted by two wings. The ancient Greeks believed it to exercise influence over the living and the dead, bestow wealth and prosperity, and turn everything it touched into gold. They called it Kerykeion, 'herald's wand' – it was the emblem of heralds and ambassadors, giving them power and inviolability. While the rod represents power, the serpents symbolize wisdom.

The wings of the caduceus symbolize the 'winged radiance' of those who have achieved the dynamic equilibrium of the two lobes of the medulla, the petals of the third-eye chakra, as well as the lightning speed of Hermes as Messenger of the Gods. Like the twining serpents, Hermes is known as the equilibrator, balancing the pairs of opposites, inspiring the alchemist's belief that without him neither Isis nor Osiris could accomplish the Great Work. The caduceus also symbolizes the fall of spirit into matter from the archetypal world to the creative and formative worlds and finally to the material world. Thus it essentially represents the astral light, the means through which Hermes wields his great power of transformation. The astral light is variously described as an "ambient and all-penetrating fluid . . . a ray detached from the (Spiritual) Sun's splendour," – the girdle of Isis that twines around two poles, and the winged dragon of Medea as well as the double serpent of the caduceus. It is the vehicle of life, representing time and eternity: the tempter and the redeemer. The wings of the caduceus signify the spiritual transcendence of time and temptation.

The rod of the caduceus is called a 'laya rod,' a central staff surrounded by the positive and negative energy of the serpents. It is the neutral Sushumna, the channel of the Sun's One Ray. All wands and staffs of power derive from this idea, just as the guiding power of Hermes is reflected in the prayer to the Christos which promises, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil; for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." The magician's wand, the 'baton de commandement' of ancient cave-paintings, and the lightning rod, are all aspects symbolic of a principle of controlled power.

On the western pediment of the Temple of Artemis at Corfu is a gorgon figure flanked by two lions. She stands in a 'pinwheel stance' which conveys movement without locomotion. Around her waist are coiled two serpents, entwined at the front, their heads arching back to face one another at her bodice. She is a guardian warding off evil and protecting the goddess within. As such, this stone figure represents protection through balanced duality. For the Great Serpent in the Garden of Eden and the 'Lord God' are one. Or, as the ancients taught, "Demon est Deus Inversus."

Agathodaemon and Kakodaemon are offshoots from the same tree of being, and evil is a force which is antagonistic but essential to good, giving it vitality and existence. These two entwined serpents, symbolizing the astral light which is not only the vehicle of life but the auxiliary of good and evil, reflect that matrix which ever seeks equilibrium. As long as nature remains 'untamed,' the opposition of the two forces (quicksilver and sulphur) manifests in a destructive mode. Hermes (Mercury) introduces the equilibrating element. The Hebrews called the astral light OD-OB-AOUR or 'Great Agent of Life.' The magnetism directed by the active will represented the right-hand serpent of the caduceus or OD. The left-hand serpent symbolized the passive OB. The golden globe at the summit of the rod was AOUR or 'equilibrating light,' the neutral point. The secret of magnetism could be mastered through ruling the fatality of OB with the intelligent power of OD, thereby gaining the perfect equilibrium of AOUR.

The solar and lunar spirals describe forces unfolding outward and simultaneously turning inward. They represent the expanding and contracting forces of nature, the alternating yin and yang, the two halves of the world egg as well as of the brain. A continuous oscillation between the two serpents accompanies the involution and evolution of spirit. The involution of spirit into matter is a progressive downward cycling, the 'sliding down of Aeons' of the Alexandrian Gnostics. The 'Downfall of Pleroma' (Gods and Devas) is allegorized as 'the desire to learn and acquire knowledge.' The seven 'rectors' break through the 'seven circles of fire.' These are the seven Devas who were born to act in space and time, to break through the seven circles of the super-spiritual planes into the phenomenal world. Allegorically, they rebelled against God.

In the nineteenth century 'primitive matter' was thought to have been formed by the act of a 'generative force' throwing off atoms endowed with varying forms of energy. It was believed by some that lowering temperatures and electricity within the 'original protyle' conferred upon newly-born elements their particular atomicity. Sir William Crookes, an intuitive chemist, pointed out that double spirals describe the process by which the elements originate. Such a figure would comprise three simultaneous oscillating motions, each at right angles to the other. Projecting this figure in space, curves describe loci where various chemical elements form within one cycle of oscillation. In the next cycle, conditions of temperature and time would have changed and the atomic groupings would be lineal descendants of the first group; and so the process would continue. Projected in space, the curve shows a central neutral line relating to electrical and chemical properties, with a positive spiral on the north, a negative on the south. This strongly echoes the metaphysics embodied in the caduceus. Though limited to material genesis, scientists have suggested that eventually matter would be reabsorbed into 'the point neutral as to electricity' or the 'zero point' analogous to the neutral globe at the summit of the caduceus rod – what The Secret Doctrine terms the "Inter-etheric point" upon which the universe revolves, a laya point, "which hiding place can be traced in the world of matter." Rotating neutral centers fixed by Fohat carry the full load of accumulated atoms from the start, and remain balanced.

The Divine Pyrnander teaches that "the Gods distinguished the Nature full of Seeds. And when all things were interminated and unmade up, the light things were divided on high and the heavy things were founded upon the moist Sand." When things were formed, they were sustained by Spirit and "Heaven was seen in Seven Circles . . . The Gods were seen in their Ideas of the Stars . . . and the Sphere was lined with air, carried about in a circular motion by the Spirit of God." Similarly, in modern astronomy, scientists speak of whirling gases made up of light hydrogen atoms evolving into heavier elements by 'spontaneous synthesis.' This cosmo-chemical process is described as unfolding in the same oscillating, caduceus-like pattern. Hydrogen atoms, the first of the series, are able to bind and to release a second electron, and in the absorption and emission of the necessary small amount of energy, all the wavelengths of the hydrogen spectrum are evolved. Since all further color distinctions are due to similar atomic and electro-magnetic variants, it would seem to follow that the potential for subsequent evolution exists at the earliest point. The unfolding spectrum can be related to the serpentine oscillation producing the original elements. In the language of the ancients, the Seven Devas break through spiritual planes into the phenomenal realms. Spirit involves into matter, its manifested spectrums circling down in series through the astral matrix.

These dual forces conjoin at the center of the seven-fold nature of man. The full force of the conjunction of the lunar and the solar serpents is uniquely experienced in human nature, and the perfected man who has balanced these universal forces is, like Hermes, a God of the Crossroads and a Mediator between Two Worlds. At the point of intersection between the macrocosm and the microcosm stands man. This is 'the cave of the heart,' the battleground of the dual forces of life. The vertical axis is the road of descending and ascending power. The horizontal axis is the manifestation of this in the world. Strong interaction of the contrasting forces along the two axes produces a spiralling motion that is the basis for identifying the aspiring disciple with the uncoiling serpent, and the perfected men of all ages as Nagas or Dragons of Wisdom.

Through his sacrifice the Serpent-Saviour initiates a new winding on the spiral of the next dimension, marking the beginning of a New Age. He is like The Redeemer on the cross. Through him man pulls himself up at the moment of death into the lunar foundations of the next world. The Adept who touches the earth like the serpent's tail sacrifices his life to lift up the whole in his journey back to his Spiritual Seat. He is the Spiralled Serpent of the Tree of Life.

The trunk of the Asvatta tree grows from heaven and descends at every Beginning from the two dark wings of the Swan of Life. The two Serpents, the ever-living and its illusion (spirit and matter) whose two heads grow from the one head between the wings, descend along the trunk, interlacing in close embrace. The two tails join on earth (the manifested universe) into one, and this is the great illusion.

Ophios and Ophiomorphos, Apollo and Python, Osiris and Typhon, Christos and the Serpent, are all convertible terms, all Logoi. "One is unintelligible without the other." They are spiritual saviours and physical regenerators; the former ensure immortality for the Divine Spirit and the latter give it through regeneration of the seed. The serpent or saviour has to die because he reveals the secret of the Immortal Ego.

Human consciousness is related to the balancing and flow of subtle energy currents. The Sakti of Siva actively revolves around the Siva lingham, the neutral rod of the caduceus. The lotus centers in the body are pierced by the Sakti energy passing into progressively finer vibrations. The Buddha termed this 'the untying of all the knots in the inverse order.' Man approaches the Divine through spiral stages of initiation. Apollonius of Tyana spoke of the Second Hour when "by the duad, the zodiacal fish chant the praises of God; the fiery serpents entwine about the caduceus and the thunder becomes harmonious." This is one of twelve zodiacal steps of successive initiation, another being to study the balanced forces in nature and learn how harmony results from the analogy of contraries, "to know the Great Magical Agent and two-fold polarization of universal light."

The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus bears the following inscription "The power is vigorous if it be changed into earth . . . Ascend with the greatest sagacity from earth to heaven, and then again descend to earth, and unite together the power of things superior with things inferior." Such is the practice of theurgy which involves communication with, and bringing down to earth, planetary spirits and angels. Total purity of mind, heart and body is needed to perform this sublime magic. In the school of Iamblichus, priests who evoked gods during the Mysteries were Hierophants. Like the Brahman Grihasta, the Theurgist liberated his own astral body, which then took on the form of the God and served as a medium through which the "special current preserving ideas and knowledge of that God could be reached and manifested." Through theurgy, the initiated disciple ascends the spiral to communicate with the Augoeides rendered visible through the medium of his astral body.

The magic of theurgy and the art of healing are alike based upon the principle of establishing an equilibrium of forces. Because human nature denotes the polarity of spirit and matter, a struggle between the two manifests. Since the centripetal and centrifugal forces are interdependent, if the action of one is obstructed, the action of the other will immediately become self-destructive. There must be a restoration of equilibrium so that the currents of life can perform their proper function in the body. The Navajo medicine man carefully delineates a design in colored sand which precisely combines the correct elements of color, symbol, direction and balance. In the center of this mandala the patient will remain seated throughout the lengthy chanting which, together with the sand-painting, will evoke the contrasting forces in nature necessary to re-establish the proper equilibrium in the patient.

The knowledge needed to heal oneself is the same as that needed to ascend the spiral of initiation into the still center of the Higher Self. The great shadow of the astral light ever deludes man and the shadow-serpent entwined around him obscures his vision. Let man mark that serpent well and understand its essential force while turning his mind ever upward toward the Spiritual Sun. The ardent disciple strives to realize Siva through the balanced forces of his whole nature, thus embodying every aspect of the golden caduceus. This is the natural potential of man. The perfect balance achieved, the soul soars upward on radiant wings.

Tree of Life as the Caduceus of Mercury. Each number corresponds to a planet/god e.g. 8 is Mercury, 7 is Venus etc.

The serpents represent the Ida and Pingala nadis, while the shaft/wand is Sushumna.

Image from “The Book of Thoth” by Aleister Crowley (1944).