#go dagon

[thequirkyllama]

They're next

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: lovecraftian/cosmic

[cloudsrust]

My first thought the moment I learned that Furfur's animal is a stag was "I NEED to draw this demon stuck in a doorway".

..Then I felt so bad about bullying him that I had to draw a second meme in which he was being rescued lmao. AbsolutelyNotAnExcuseToAlsoDrawShaxNoNo (lie)

EDIT: posted the wrong version of the first one whoops-

Original memes under the cut 👇

[captainenjolras]

Good Omens demon hcs because the hyperfixation is fixating again

Demons sometimes present the behaviors of their animal counterparts (which is canon but lemme expand on it). Ex: Crowley forgetting to blink, Beelzebub rubbing their hands together, Ligur loves warmth, Dagon circling people she’s arguing with, etc..

They’re very physical creatures (physical affection, taking up space, more likely to get into physical fights) where as Angels are more reserved.

Expanding on the last one: board meetings in hell usually end in physical fights or at least threats of. Instead of fixing this, there is a tally going of who gets into the most fights, who wins the most, how many days it’s been since the last fight, etc.. There’s also like…no work being done down there at this point

Beelzebub’s flies all have names

Dagon loves going to the beach at night to swim

Demons are pretty artistic. Yeah the spelling is shit, but those fuckers can crank out a sick painting or tune

Crowley served as a muse for a few painters/writers, including John William Waterhouse and Shakespeare

Demons eat, but only the nastiest things you can think of. Raw meat, old fruit, expired chips, ext..

The angel/demon views on fashion are incredibly different (also canon but let me ramble). Angels prefer more neutral, modest clothing. Demons, on the other hand, prefer more shocking, revealing, alternative, etc. clothes/styles

Eric is really good at makeup

Beelzebub and Dagon are inseparable and have been since before The Fall

On the same note: Crowley, Beelzebub, Dagon, and Shax were all close in heaven and still are (I know this semi goes against canon but listen I need to softness of lasting friendships/making up because I am overflowing with love to the point that it causes me physical pain). Gabriel is fighting for his life for approval when he starts dating Bee because they trust few people, and anyone who breaks that trust is going to have to answer to a very angry friend group (same goes for any other potential suitors like Aziraphale and Michael)

Hastur and Ligur have something going on

Furfur and Shax like jazz. Idk why this one just came to me while writing

Demons have very strong emotions and reactions. When they’re stressed/angry/in pain, their true forms/demonic features begin to become more prominent (Crowley with the lightning)

When they were a Seraph, Beelzebub created butterflies, bees, and moths along with flies

VERY fast reflexes. Like scarily so

If you want more lmk if not I’ll probably just share more anyways cause once I start rambling I don’t stop ❤️

[lemonsquidsoda]

been drawing a bunch of doodles on one page and it’s taking longer than i thought so here’s a few in the meantime so far :D

[shynrinn]

Crowley and furfur as your official photographer/videographer. While muriel and eric throw rice

Nina and maggie because...they gotta support their fellow lesbian--honestly why not ╮⁠(⁠＾⁠▽⁠＾⁠)⁠╭

[lower-management]

to Crowley and Dagon

I am to inform you that when Satan said "fuck the angels" he did not mean it litterally

[komorezuki]

Crowley's mental condition in s2

In current timeline Crowley's facial expression seems very tense - downturned mouth corners, a tensed chin, tight and pale lips.

Compare:

And no it's not because DT is getting old. Angel!Crowley looks totally young and happy:

Bildad looks relaxing and enjoying himself (even though he doesn't want to kill):

Victorian Crowley is also having fun and infinitely ironic.

Now, 1941 Crowley is very tensed but still not so tired.

And it's fair to say that new hairstyle and aiseburns make Crowley's face more thin and old. Compare:

Ladies and gentlemen, that's what it's come to. I am analysing a fucking tensed jaw and draw schematic sideburns with a brush. Who the hell cares?

But the more I look at s2 frames and gifs, the more I get that the tensed mimic is definitely DT's choice. All of that makes me think that Crowley is stressed and highly strung even before the Jim's appearance. He lost his flat. He is apparently afraid of something. He is ready to escape at any moment. At least he lost his job (I believe Hell matters for him whatever he said). He even doesn't know what to expect. And his mental distress is a reason why I admit the possibility that Crowley might return to Hell as a boss. Maybe he will get tired of idleness and anxiety and decide to do anything ahead of the Armageddon 2.0.

[actual-changeling]

michael and dagon having meetings in nina's coffee shop is something that can actually be so personal.

they become regulars (of course). michael starts off as an americano but then graduates to something sweet like an caramel oatmilk latte with a lot of encouraging from dagon, who probably orders some unholy concoction no one but her would drink (open for suggestions on this one we dont have a lot of starbucks or similar coffee shops like that here and i dont go to them).

nina and maggie, who practically lives in the café now, watch them with big lesbian eyes and the urge to interfere.

dagon tends to be fashionably late while michael always leaves first, so after a few weeks, nina starts chatting with a mildly resistant michael before dagon arrives and pulls the exact same shit she pulled on crowley.

"so, how long have you and partner been together?"

"who?"

"the gorgeous red-head you meet here every wednesday"

"i- we're- what?" and michael blushes, deeply confused, and nina realizes they're not just lesbians but useless lesbians (i'm allowed to say that i'm also one dw). so she has the same conversation with dagon after michael leaves, who is, luckily, more self aware in that regard.

"ahh, i wish, but you know how angels are, easy to tempt in theory but masters at resisting that final little pull"

"then maybe you have to be the one to push" and nina leaves dagon to have a crisis in peace.

next wednesday, they're both late. very late. half an hour late, and nina and maggie get a bit worried because fuck, what if we screwed this up.

then they come in together with messy hair and wearing the same shade of (smeared) lipstick, and michael definitely has a hickey on her neck and nina is just like.

"ah. it worked. amazing. your usual order then?"

[sentientsky]

here, have a little angelfish ficlet (ft. lots of queer yearning. also. “be gay, do crime” vibes)

It's all the same; a slow, monotonous dragging of time through liminal space. There had never been room enough for shifting tides or changing winds—no room to stretch one's wings. Because Heaven, by its very nature, is antiseptic. Pure autoclave, all pressure and steam and the absence of touch. That's part of the deal. You want to keep the wings? The halo? Well, then, you have to learn to live under the fluorescent glare of a silent god.

It's all the same, save for the slippery red heat of Michael's heart hurling itself staccato against her breastbone. In truth, it’s a heart that doesn’t really need to beat—that doesn’t need to exist at all, save for her inclination to feel the heavy weight of it writhing in her chest. In a way she doesn’t quite yet understand, she wants proof. She wants to feel her pulse, feel it move in a way that leaves a mark, bruises flesh. 

She sits with her hands folded, one pressed over top of the other. From afar, it might even look as though she’s praying (it might look as though she’s holy, still held firm in the Mother's grasp). She breathes in. Slow, tentative—as though the air might carry unspoken words out and away from her. There’s a certain chilling numbness that creeps up on you when you’ve lived this way for so long; a buzzing static that burns from the base of your skull, all the way down to the backs of your knees, your calves—the place where your feet hit the ground running (always running, always dying to get out even as you lean into the punches). It’s the feeling of living in the hollowed-out limbs of a corpse, of walking around with waxen, rotting flesh and a smile that stretches slightly too far to be genuine. 

And yet, now, for once, her body is no longer whirring—no longer silently humming with agitation or the drive to propel herself forward and up, ever up. For once, she’s still, save for the thrashing in her throat. She breathes out. She rolls words around in her mouth: flashpoint, epiphany—whispers them like a prayer spoken to no one—lightning strike, catalyst. A thread pulled so taut, it cuts to marrow. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep the pace, hold the line. Adjust to the status quo. But the status quo has never looked so unappealing. Because, she realizes, if someone had asked her to paint the slope of a silver-blue throat, or the upturned palm of a scaled hand, she could do it with her eyes closed. She could do it in complete darkness, at the edge of existence. Of this she was nearly certain.

--- It had taken place in the corridors that stretch from one end of infinity to the next; a slicing wound driven between the ribs of the universe. And it had been innocuous, really—a passing glance, at first. And then an icy nod, the turn of a jaw towards the stale light. The brush of shoulders, and the ache that bloomed in her at the touch. Time wore on, kingdoms rose and fell. The sea drew towards the shore, Michael’s eyes drew towards a too-sharp mouth. In their own fragment of purgatory made heaven made something completely new, she and Dagon exchanged rasped whispers—hushed murmurings of a revolution.

The inferno in her gut grew, consumed, devoured. Years clawed past. It's important to note that angels, as imagined in most popular religious scripture, are exceptionally good at self-restraint. And for the most part, this is true. But those who wrote the holy texts never considered the canted slope of the devil’s mouth; they never imagined that the devil could be gentle, could press her palm to yours like a promise and speak new religion into being. And so, after what could have been eons or mere decades, they fell together, breath intermingling in the space that had become more sanctuary than abyss. Flashpoint, epiphany. It had been inevitable, really. Lightning strike, catalyst. They were two neutron stars collapsing in on themselves. Gravity, heat, the press of a sigh into her open mouth. The hunger that settled in the bottom of her gut. --- So when Gabriel walks into her office, head held high and grinning, Michael swallows it all down. She chokes it back, feels all the love she has for her demon lodge in her throat and stay there.

Of course, she could open her mouth now to speak and have it all tumble out onto the floor. She could Fall—had Fallen already, in a sense, the world pitching around her with the weight of all she wanted but could not have. The muscles of her back ached, wings flickering somewhere in the aether, thrashing like an augury. Like an omen. Let it ache, she thought. Let it wound me, infect me, take me down. If this is my destruction, so be it. Beneath the desk, the blade in her hand glittered like a piranha’s open mouth. Maybe Heaven needed a little shaking up, after all.

[rupertbbare]

[salsedinepicta]

⭐️ Divinity - Draw your OC as a deity, in godlike clothing

I'd love to see your take on Good Omens characters in this!

Hello Anon 🪴✨

First of all - thank you for the prompt! I've decided to return to my GO fandom roots and picked the character that literally shares their name with an abyssal god.

Yes, I love painting scales

Hope you like it! 🐟

(Prompt from this list)

[epickiya722]

To think this is something that actually happened!

[captainenjolras]

Good Omens HC

When someone gets kissed by an Angel, they get freckles in the same spot (freckles are sometimes called “angel kisses”)

Cue Crowley, Beelzebub, and Dagon just being covered in freckles everywhere from each of their angel partners. Cheeks, nose, neck, back, hands- you name it

[ego-osbourne]

2023 WIP Art Wrapup

I couldn’t fit all of these so I made them into collages, hope you don’t mind

1. A gore piece of Ego during the Alduin fight, with Dragon Aspect

2. Wounded Rakell and protective Velehk

3. Sanguine lighting WIP

4. Dagon being grabby with Ego’s arm

1. Paarthurnax teaching Ego

2. The full sheet from the one post with Sam x Ego shenaningans

3. A scrapped concept of Dagon’s Prince of Hope design

1. Dagon x Ego big hands stuff (also a very early draft of something I went to redraw and finish!)

2. Akatosh concept and defo nothing else :]

1. Sanguine x Dagon

2. Rakell getting the shit beat out of him by Kyrahk

3. Ego and Sam in their pirate wear

4. Shadowmere, Mory, Brenna, and Veezara

1. Sanguine carrying Ego away from a fight

2. Dagon giving a thumbs-up

3. Sanguine dancing

4. Oz, another alter ego (in the same way that TES Ego is a branch of an alter ego), this time for Bloodborne’s universe!

1. Caspian losing his eye to a firework

2. Cicero

3. Sanguine looking very mischievous

4. Nervous Ego x Sanguine

And an animation base for Caspian losing his eye :]

There is a very grand possibility that I finish none of these, but it’s not impossible that I finish a few! However, it’s more likely that I simply take these concepts and remake them entirely

See you soon with an art wrapup!

[pregstiel]

dagon/kelly!!!!! spn femslash!!!!! women being SO crazy and SO horny!!!!!!!! please check it out :)