#ch the devil

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Can I please request the Devil from Cuphead with a Lilith s/o? Where they were an early version of Eve that knew Devil before his fall and also fell with him. They too went through a transformation, one that made them insecure as Devil is with his own transformation.

A/N: This was an interesting request! The story of Lilith has always fascinated me. Not to mention that, like the Devil, the numerous pieces of art that were inspired by her tale are absolutely gorgeous! If you haven’t seen it, I’d recommend giving John Collier’s Lilith a look-see!!

I believe I accidentally misread some of the initial request, so the reader falls/transforms before the Devil does. This batch is a little bit heftier than my usual work, so if you’re unhappy with the results, feel free to shoot me a dm so I can make any adjustments where needed!!

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The Devil with Lilith!S/O:

The Devil’s earliest memories of you traced back to when you were nothing more than a whispered name. Long ago, when he still held a place in his father’s heart, the Devil had watched your conception. 

Even now, the Devil could recall his father’s mumbling under his breath,  enraptured in a conversation of one. The few times the Devil (well, he was Lucifer back then) passed by his office, he could faintly make out his father’s muffled muttering through the door. Most of which were near unintelligible. Save for two names: Adam and Lilith.

After his older brothers’ incessant pestering, the Devil snuck into his father’s office. Crumpled paper balls, broken sticks of charcoal, and empty ink wells littered the floor; the Holy One’s once pristine office left neglected in its master’s fitful working.  

A few steps in, his foot suddenly slid forward. Paper ripped beneath his dress shoe with a loud shriek, startling the angel. Cursing, he lifted his foot up. Beneath him laid two torn halves of a sketch page. A man– broad, curly-haired, and with eyes like a dairy cow– stared up at him; the imprint of the Devil’s shoe marring his otherwise perfect face. 

On the other half was another figure. Sharp, piercing eyes and long hair that flowed  like a waterfall. Ah, so you must be Lilith. It was fascination at first sight. Gingerly, he had picked up the half that housed your striking visage. Without another word, the Devil pocketed it. 

He didn’t know what possessed him to take it. Instinct? Possessiveness? Even now, long after he fell from Heaven, he’s unsure. All the Devil knew was that he wanted to stare and marvel at you for hours on end.

God found out about his son’s trespassing not long after the incident. However, he couldn’t find it within him to be angry towards his favorite son. Instead, he had nurtured the young man’s curiosity. Not that Lucifer ever retained any of his father’s impassioned ramblings. He was much more interested in you. 

“They are to be Adam’s wife,” his father explained, a smile present on his ancient face. A pang ripped through the Devil’s chest. Though he couldn’t quite place why.

By the time his father finally began to sculpt you and your husband to be, the Devil thought whatever torch he carried would fizzle out.  

It did not. 

From the moment you opened your eyes, he had been ensnared. Shyness shook his normally so confident core. And to think that all it took was a gentle tilt of your head and a wry smile. A mirthful glint shone in your eyes as the Devil fought to hide the blush steadily overtaking his face. 

The Devil avoided you like the plague after your birth. He threw himself into his work– hoping that having you out of sight would put an end to this nonsense. Little did he know that absence only made the heart grow fonder. 

He was forced to sit back and observe the object of his obsession from afar– lest he’d make a blithering fool of himself. You were different from most of his father’s pet projects. Disinterested. Both in the role you were given and your husband. 

You always seemed to stare off into the distance. Towards the horizon. Paying the lush paradise and your husband no mind. Hell, you’d even looked annoyed when the only other human around spoke to you. 

The Devil didn’t recognize it then, but you, too, hungered for more; more than what you have, for beyond the garden grounds. Most of all, neither of you wished to be subservient to anyone. 

No matter how much he had tried, you never were able to bond or love Adam like God wanted to. What started out as courteous neutrality steadily gave way into contempt. Resentment bubbled beneath your stony exterior like magma within the earth. You were a ticking time bomb rigged to explode, and the Devil watched on with bated breath.

One day, you snapped. Neither you or the Devil could remember what started the argument. Only that it was enough for you to lash out and claw at your husband’s cheek– your eyes wide and teeth bared like a feral hellcat. Adam was quick to crumple to the ground, hissing in pain. You darted off into the underbrush, the rustles of disturbed foliage and the snaps of breaking twigs following in your wake.

By the time God had found out of your transgressions, you were long gone. No one could find where you ran off to. And though the Devil and his brothers were told to leave the incident behind, one look at his father’s face was enough to say it all: the deity was absolutely livid.

Hours turn into days, days into weeks. Time becomes a blur. Adam gains a new wife, and all is well in the garden once more. The bond between father and son weakens with each passing day; all the while your feral visage burned itself into the Devil’s mind. 

Then that fateful rebellion happened. A sword– burning like the rage within his former brother’s eyes– is pressed to the Devil’s neck; a clear victor had been declared. 

Shortly after, he fell. Screaming and burning until he was only a vague resemblance of his former self.

Life after falling wasn’t easy. He was alone, stripped of any power or influence,  and the phantom pains had haunted him constantly. His wings were broken and useless, forcing him to wander the hellscape by foot, and his appearance— oh, how he had changed. 

Truly, the Devil had hit rock bottom. 

And then, you came back into his life. 

In the centuries– eons– of his existence,  the Devil finds himself at a loss of words around you. You’d regarded him with a level of distrust at first– especially since he had accidentally let it slip that he’s known of your existence before you rebelled. 

It also didn’t help that, in spite of the fall scarring you– having charred the flesh of your arms and legs to a blackened and cracked state; feathers, dark and oil-slick like a raven, grew in uneven patches around your eyes, arms and thighs; and legs twisted and bent until they resembled the hind legs of a goat, complete with hooves – he thought you were absolutely gorgeous. 

It takes a long time for you to trust him. Especially since the last thing you had wanted was to bow down to Heaven’s disgraced golden child.  The two of you shared an acquaintanceship for a while– your interactions kept brief. However, you couldn’t deny that you were a little curious about the man. 

Soon enough, a working business relationship blooms between the two of you. The Devil comes to you in search of information– be it the whereabouts of potential contracts or certain souls on his list. In return, you gain a favor from the soon-to-be King of Hell; you saw how quickly he’s amassing power, you’d be a fool to pass up having someone as influential as him underneath your thumb. 

Not to mention that you may or may not have begun to enjoy spending time with him. What was once small shared rants on how much Heaven sucked ended up developing into something more. 

Once the Devil finally establishes his casino in Inkwell Hell, you find yourself treated as a guest of honor. You’ll be treated better than royalty within velvet-lined walls, an entourage of imps tending to your every whim, and drinks and food are given to you free of charge. Not to mention you have free reign to enter his office or balcony seat whenever you please. 

Acquaintanceship blossoms into an easy, flirtatious.. Whatever you two are. The Devil isn’t sure what to name the relationship he has with you at this point. You both share the same dry, sardonic sense of humor and are content to co-exist in comfortable silence – a part of him rather not muddy one of the few good things he has because he decided to think with his other head, so to speak. 

Then again, there are certain moments where he wonders..

You’d light the end of your thin cigarette against the plump tip of his cigar, eyes hooded and lips pursed as you hummed a low thanks; occasionally glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Chuckling to yourself every time he flushes and grumbles to himself. 

Every now and then you’ll indulge in drinks within his personal office. Occasionally you’d partake of his own cup, gently pressing your lips where his own rested not too long ago. Taking care to slowly lick at your lower lip each time you catch him staring. 

The way you’d pause whenever the larger demon would casually brush  a stray head feather back into place, gently dragging a claw against the vane in his own version of grooming. A shy flush overtaking your cheeks, turning away and covering your mouth as you grumble out to warn you next time.. 

How your gaze softens and body melts when either one of you recall the fall from grace; lamenting former glories and how your transformation left its scars, offering a saddened smile whenever he scoffs at the very idea that your were any less beautiful. 

For as long as both of you existed, for as much as both of you constantly blur the lines of platonic comradery and something the Devil dare not name in fear of getting his hopes up– the two of you are painfully oblivious.

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[turboemmy]

aughhhh SO MUCH DEVIL CONTENT

[dimonds456-art]

CUPHEAD CROSSOVER!

@year2000electronics ask and ye shall receive

Ramblings under the cut!

The general idea is that the AU follows a similar story structure to Cuphead, but the lore is similar to Gravity Falls. There's just one key difference: everyone can see and interact with Bill. He just can't really interact with our world. Yet.

Bill is a projection, brought forth by Gideon Gleeful. He would allow Bill free presence, and in return, Bill basically made him famous, AND his Earthen right-hand. So he takes the place of King Dice.

From there, the history is almost the same as GF. Ford came here to investigate anomalies, found Gravity Falls, met Bill, and started building a portal. The possession came with a different cost this time, though; Ford's soul. Bill promised he'd be in good hands and that it's just kinda part of the gig, but because of this, Bill's ability to possess him never left.

Once Ford got the metal plate installed, Bill was limited, sure, but he still had control of the soul contract, meaning he could basically just. Force Ford to do shit. The main limiting factor here is that he has to know where Ford is and has to be able to see him. If he can't see him, he can't control him. Once Ford is in the multiverse, this is the main reason Bill can't get him. He doesn't know where Ford is.

The main story is just everyone in Gravity Falls making really really stupid mistakes. The only person who has not fallen for Bill's games is Stan, who- like Elder Kettle- tried to warn the twins about making bad deals, but ultimately this fell through when they got curious and visited Gideon's tent, where Bill was also observing.

In my interpretation of this AU, Pacifica takes the place of Ms Chalice. She's hurt and alone, and her dad made a deal with Cipher that resulted in. this. I like to think it was a Monkey's Paw type scenario, but my brain is an egg so I'll figure that one out later. Basically Pacifica wants her body back (ghost rules the same as the DLC), so she decides to help Dipper and Mabel under the belief that they can assist her once Bill is defeated.

However, this falls through. However the deal worked, it persists, and Pacifica starts to wonder if she'll always be a ghost. But that's where Ford comes in.

Ford, taking the place of Saltbaker (kinda? kinda.), offers to try and help her restore her physical form. Call in the twins and let's be off let's go. He says he needs to build a machine that could potentially reverse the effects permanently, and he needs parts. So that's what the twins are doing. The cookie is replaced with an astro-physical restorative remote, but a really, really weak one, and it requires a host to work, keeping the idea that one of them will always be a ghost until the machine is done.

The only problem with this plan is that Ford's contract with Bill is not up, and was not destroyed by Dipper and Mabel, and Bill can see him now. So. In short, that ain't Ford.

The parts the kids were gathering were for the portal.

Once they figure that out, we get a Baking the Wondertart equivalent, Bill is defeated, and in doing so, Ford is freed of the contract as well, meaning Bill can't mess with him anymore.

Not sure if Bill lives all the way to the end of this story, but there is a good chance unless I figure out how to kill him, seeing as Weirdmageddon probably doesn't happen here.

Gotta think on it more, but that's the basic idea. First draft. All of this is subject to change hdfsdfjh

[ask-cupbros-parents]

 "So clever, so dapper, ya betta' believe this dice is loaded. Hi-de-ho!"

—King Dice, Death Screen.

It's all done, YAAY!!!!!

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🚫Please do not repost or trace my artwork! 🚫AI learning prohibit Cupbros blog | Main blog | Twitter

[clj-art-blog]

Wedding in Cangyan Sea (option two) | DFQC & XLH | CH, XF, SQ View all art CLJ 360°

[denjhenge]

Ohhhhh Asa...

our poor cringe fail girl freak.

[neutrallyobsessed]

Clone High as Tarot Cards

Today: Christopher Columbus as The Hanged Man & The Devil

"If there's a Judgement card, then there's someone being judged"

[historicalasiandramas]

Man, I really don't get how people can hate Xunfeng. He's so funny! He interrupts his brother getting proposed to and says "actually it's illegal to marry a fairy unless you enter the Fuju cave".

And then when Orchid says she's gonna do it, Xunfeng completely short circuits.

[poisonwithkaffeflavour]

Chonny if he was drunk and devil or sometjing

[dragonsongmakhali]

[[MCH:: DAWNTRAIL <READY>]]

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Are you still taking requests? If so, could I please request the Devil having a sorta flirtatious love hate relationship with fiddler. If you ever heard the Song, The Devil went down to Georgia, you’ll get it but the gist is, the Devil challenges the person to a fiddle competition and lost. But the fiddler offers for him to come on back and try again if he likes, quite rightfully proud of their musical skills even refusing a golden fiddle the Devil offered as a reward… supposedly

A/N: Oh anon your mind!

It took me a while to figure out how to tackle this prompt, and I had opted to make a short fic about it! I'm a little out of practice when it comes to writing something that isn't a set of bulletpoint hcs, so please don't be afraid to let me know what you think!

The Devil Went Down to Georgia Word Count: 2.3k

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Your daddy had always been a religious man, as were most of the folks in your small town. 

Many hot summer Sundays were spent getting up early to get ready for church. The priest, hair thinning and skin glistening with sweat, shouting his sermon; eyes ablaze like the fire and brimstone he preached. All you could remember from his impassioned screaming was just how crazed he looked– the hellish landscape he painted forever burned into your mind. 

While Pa was nothing like that dreadful priest, he took those words to heart. Always warning to be wary of temptation. For temptation was the Devil’s way of leading you astray. You’ve never truly put your mind into the whole Heaven and Hell business— heck, you stopped coming to church long before your twentieth birthday– but you knew that Pa would never do you wrong. 

“The Devil is a man you don’t wanna mess with,” Pa said one day.

You agreed to help him chop some wood after Sunday mass; you don’t remember exactly what led the two of you down this conversation, but you remember feeling Pa’s watchful gaze focused on you as you dozed off during another sermon. 

“He’ll come to ya in a chariot of fire, taller than any building you’ve seen, and try to take ya away. Using pretty words and empty promises, and by the time ya see through that honeyed haze, yir as good as dead.” 

He finished point with one final swing of his ax, the loud crack of splintering wood causing you to flinch. 

Pa’s face softened, mumbling a small “sorry punkin” as he softly clapped a calloused hand on your shoulder. 

The two of you stood over the work you’ve done. Silently basking in the afterglow of progress.

After a few moments, Pa spoke once more. 

“I’m serious, Punkin,” you felt his hand tighten on your shoulder. “Promise me that if you ever meet the Devil, you do the right thing.” 

And so, you promised your pa. Swore on his and Mama’s graves that you’d turn tail and run if you ever crossed paths with the prince of darkness. 

Of course, a part of you thought Pa was paranoid. That he was letting his fear of god cloud his reason. Cause there ain’t no way that the big bad Devil would ever wander down into the middle of nowhere, Georgia. A part of you wasn’t even sure if he existed. 

But you wouldn’t dare say this out loud. Instead, you meekly smiled and promised your pa. Anything to ease his worries. 

And you kept that promise. Life continued. You fell into a comfortable, if not a little monotonous routine. Get up, help with the farm, play your fiddle for the cattle— rinse and repeat. 

That is until one day, during a dry summer not even a week ago, you met the Devil. 

It happened so quickly. Unexpectedly. One minute, you reclined against a stump, having just finished your chores for the day, and decided to relax while playing your fiddle. The very next minute, you had felt the ground shake.

He emerged from the earth. 

The ground was torn asunder as the prongs of a golden trident scorched the terrain an ashen black; a great gaping maw yawned open. Pillars of flame shot forth into the sky, the cries of birds resounding in your skull as the smell of smoke and tobacco filled your nose. You coughed, head swimming as you reached to cover your nose, nearly dropping your violin to the ground as you braced yourself against the roaring flames. 

Through burning pillars, a clawed hand emerged. With a snap of their fingers, the portal instantly closed, the fiery pillars forced down into their earthly furnace; leaving behind a blackened scar against the grass, and a looming figure. 

And as you slowly lower your arm, fingers tightening their grasp on your bow and fiddle– clutching both to your chest, desperate to get an extra layer of protection against the stranger– a small, foolhardy part of your panic-addled brain couldn’t help but notice one thing:

The Devil was a lot shorter than you’d thought he’d be. 

༻︶𓏶︶༺

You didn’t even know what spurred you to accept the demon’s challenge– beat him against a fiddle-playing competition, and you’ll win a golden fiddle of your own. And if you lose, your soul is forfeit. 

Truth be told, it was quite a crap deal. The prize he offered you was a bit… gaudy. Heck, who were you kidding? The thing was tacky and ugly. The strings looked way too stiff, too harsh for your weathered old bow. It wouldn’t serve much for anything other than as an oversized chachki. 

However, the way the demon looked at you– or rather, how his hooded gaze looked towards his talons…

He looked bored. Was he so confident that he’d win? Did he think that little of you?

You were so miffed that you found yourself saying yes without a second thought. The minute you did, a deep, haughty laughter filled your ear, and a pit formed in your stomach. A devious smile formed on his lips, eyes upturned and alight with arrogance. 

The darned bastard had thought he had it in the bag… 

Well. You did make a promise. 

However— Pa wasn’t there. 

And you’d be darned if some stranger could think he could walk all over you. 

So you may or not have… tried a little too hard in your wager. Just a little! Well, you technically had to. Since you didn’t want to lose your soul. However, despite the circumstances, you enjoyed your little competition. Not to mention that the further you two went, the more you felt that warm, drunken feeling of satisfaction well up in your belly. 

Cause for a demon so darned confident in himself, he was only really decent at it. Well, scratch that– he was good, but you played your beloved instrument almost every day. 

And the difference in skill was apparent. Extremely so. 

The Devil had felt his fingers ache and knuckles burn from how hard he gripped onto his bow, lips pulled into a tight frown as he watched you practically dance circles around him. Your hands were a flurry of movement and a grin steadily overtook your face the longer you played. 

By the time you had finished, the demon had already given up. He huffed, hackles raised and steam emanating from his fingertips. The black flesh of his cheeks was aglow with a deep, rusted red as he grumbled under his breath. 

With little fanfare, he tossed the golden fiddle down at your feet. None too gentle as it nearly hit your feet, forcing a jump for you. He turned away from you, his tail whipping about erratically, and raised his trident. 

Wait, that was it? No goodbye, no afterword? Not even a cliched speech about how “he’ll be back”? Is he just going to give up? Darn, you had a lot of fun— the horrible threat of losing your soul aside. No one indulged in music with you, not to mention keep up with your speed. 

You bit your lip, and you looked back towards the demon. 

Oh, your pa would kill you for this. 

Just as a portal was torn open, flooding your nose with the scent of smoke and sulfur, you made up your mind. 

You grabbed his tail.

The limb felt strange in your grasp. It was thin yet dense with underlying muscle; like grabbing onto a cottonmouth. Not to mention it was hot. Overwhelmingly hot. Practically burning your hand. You watched as the pointed tip quickly wrapped itself around your wrist; coiling itself until you felt the blood circulation become cut off.

Nevertheless, you persisted. Biting through the pain with watery eyes as the Devil immediately stopped. He whipped his bed back to you, nose scrunched and face pinched into a sour frown. A low growl emerged from his throat, annoyance clear as day in his sickly yellow eyes.

You grinned.

“Now hold on, Mr. Devil,”  you start, casually placing your fiddle on your shoulder. “I gotta say, that was probably the most excitement I’ve had in this part of Georgia in years-”

“Get on with it.” 

Yeesh. Someone was a little cranky. 

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on, mister,”  you snort. “Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I just wanted to say you’re always welcome to come back!

”

The Devil’s face relaxed for a moment. Nose no longer as scrunched as week-old laundry and lips dropping its frown. He didn’t relax his grip on his trident. 

“What.” 

“Yup!” you chirp, your lips popping at the p– an action that didn’t escape the demon’s notice. “Listen, it gets mighty boring around here! You’re welcome to come on back if you want to try again!” 

The Devil turned to face you fully now, brows knitted together as he stared down at you. His mouth fell open, then closed, then open again. This repeated a few times as he silently stared at you. He shook his head, leaning his weight against his trident as he lowered himself to your height; eyes narrowed. 

“What.”

“Ya heard me.” 

“Hold that tongue of yours, yokel,” he spat. “What game are you playing?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your offer. You do realize the gravitas of this offer, no?”

“Yessir.”

“You said I was welcome to try again. Your soul will always be at stake, do you know that?”

“Yup.” 

“Once you lose it–”

“If I lose it. Ya haven’t beaten me yet.”

“Oh shut it, you little shoehorn,” he jabbed a clawed finger at your chest. “Once you lose it, your soul is mine, and you’ll be cursed to live out the rest of your pitiful existence as a husk. Devoid of any consciousness.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll be a zombie, you moron.”

“Copy that, captain.” 

“Are you normally this stupid?”

He grabbed your shoulder at that point, eyes wild and teeth bared. You felt the hot, piercing tip of the prongs of his trident press against your neck; his breath– rich and hot with the scent of tobacco– hit your face in warm puffs. The demon’s nose brushed against yours, and god almighty if he moved any closer the two of you would be kissing. 

Soft, traitorous warmth found itself seeping into your cheeks. Your heart flipped-flopped about in your ribcage like a trout out of water, and you silently prayed that the demon couldn’t hear it as you mustered up a cocky grin. 

“Nope. I’m just the best there ever was.” 

A growl, low and gravelly, rumbled from the Devil’s throat. A look of annoyance filled his eyes as he clicked his tongue. He let go of your shoulder and rose to his full height. The prongs of his trident eased their bite on your neck, no longer threatening to stab into the pliant flesh of your windpipe. 

Blazing metal slowly traveled upwards, leaving behind whispers of heat in their wake as the Devil slowly eased it beneath your chin. The Devil slowly and methodically craned your head up, quietly relishing the way your throat struggled to force down a nervous swallow. 

The demon remained silent the entire way through. Only breaking it to occasionally growl if you tried to speak; his eyes lidded and lips threaded into a thin line. The Devil's tail moved to and fro in a metronomic pattern as his gaze grew hooded; contemplation weighing the lids down as he raised a large hand towards his mouth. 

The entire interaction lasted maybe only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity had passed before the silence was broken by another low rumble from the Devil. Not quite a growl, but it wasn’t a purr, either. You couldn’t put your finger on it. However, you could guess it only meant something good, as the Devil finally moved his trident away; and you find yourself shakily releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“Very well.” The Devil shifted his trident beside him once more. “I accept your offer.”

He knocked the butt of his trident against the earth once, twice, and the earth yawned open once more. Red light washed over the demon’s form, illuminating the demon’s back in a crimson halo. 

He grinned, baring sharp teeth, eyes full of malintent, and your stomach rolled as you could only imagine what was going on in that man’s head. 

“I won’t stop until that soul is mine, little mortal.” He pointed a finger towards you. “You best keep yourself sharp. I’d hate to be disappointed after all of that talk.” 

You watched as he stepped a foot within the portal, cheeks pained as you fought to maintain your cocky grin. 

“Lookin’ forward to it, sweetness.” 

The endearment was tacked on at the last minute. You didn’t mean anything by it. After all, you had just beat the Devil at his own game. You were safe. For now, at least. Perhaps it was just the high of victory that had pushed you to be a bit more saucy with the demon. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way his face fell. It was hard to make out from the red light of the portal beneath him, but you coulda swore that you saw his dark cheeks become a rusted brown. 

He turned his head before you could look any further, an annoyed huff following after. 

“Good grief you’re annoying.” You heard him mutter. “I cannot wait to crush your pathetic body into the ground.”

“Don’t get too excited, Mr. D.” 

Oh my god, why couldn’t you just shut up?

“Keep talking like that and I’ll start to think that you want to see me again.” 

While a part of you panicked, it was overpowered by a snort as the Devil let out an offended ‘UGH’ before leaving. He had practically leaped into the portal, desperate to get away, leaving behind smoldering earth in his wake. 

As you stood there, heart frantically racing, all you could do was wonder when the next time you’d see him would be. 

And you silently apologized to your pa for looking forward to seeing the Devil again. 

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[lacking-rodents]

This is how that one episode went right?

[rayix]

Oh look, it's Ronald McDonald and his sad clown sidekick

[ask-cupbros-parents]

"Good gosh, Cuphead, no!" —Mugman, begging Cuphead not to accept The Devil's deal, Introduction

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🚫Please do not repost or trace my artwork! 🚫AI learning prohibit Cupbros blog | Main blog | Twitter

[smply-sktchng]

why won’t you fly away?

[shusuikokuto]

"I don't want to conquer anything. It's just that the person with the most freedom on the sea is the Pirate King."