#past devildice

[ando666detonao]

BDAY GIFTS FOR MY PAL @minimingoat !!!🎉

[askblueandviolet]

Are you two dating?

MASTER POST

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[pentagrahamcracker738]

Funny little DevilDice comic!

Also thanks for getting me to 50 followers! It means a lot to me that so many people care about seeing my artwork, so thank you for all the support I’ve gotten this past year!!!

[just-barely-a-somebody]

I’ve been mentally hit by the devildice truck out of nowhere (/pos)

over a year after the show ended my past hyperfixation on it has been reawakened by dd’s fanfiction scripts

the wedding has gotta be a ploy to get cuphead’s soul, but also dice’s reaction is just lmao

sounds like Devil’s speaking from experience

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Hey could I get a fic with The Devil where the reader can Shapeshift and enjoys taking The Devil by surpise and just messing with him?

A/N: Hough, another old request that took me forever to get to! I’m so sorry that you had to wait so long! (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

I was hit with a massive stroke of inspiration for what I could write for this request, though I will say that, unfortunately, reader ended up not being as present like they should've been. Furthermore, this fic ended up featuring a lot more DevilDice and less reader/Devil interactions. I'm super sorry! (m;_ _)m

Also, grammarly decided to be difficult with me and paywall any edits I wanted to make past the allowed amount. And since I wanted to experiment with shorter, punchier lines, I'm a lot less confident!

Please don't be afraid to message me if you'd like me to ever rewrite this if you're unhappy!

Dead Ringer Disaster Word Count: 2.8k

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Something wasn’t right. 

The Devil couldn’t quite place it. 

One moment, the day had been progressing like normal. He’d woken up. He had an imp prepare his morning bath while another read off the mile-long list of duties for the day. He’d briefly skimmed through the mountain of paperwork that greeted him in his office. Lit a cigar. Then called King Dice to hand him his share of the work (a considerably smaller portion) before the demon shooed him off. 

Then, for the next few hours, the Devil carefully read through various contracts and paperwork— both business and soul-related. He thoroughly combed through loopholes, legal jargon and crunched the numbers; approving of few and burning most of the rejects.  It was awfully dry, but it was a necessary evil within his daily routine. 

Nothing off about that part of his day.

By the time he finished, it was around three in the afternoon. It was about time he’d taken a break, and so the Devil left his office. He made a beeline towards his usual haunt— towards the balcony seat that oversaw the main lobby of the casino floor. The demon paid little mind to the imps that scuttled about by his feet with trays of food and drink; only pausing to purloin another cigar from one of the little servers that passed by. 

A familiar burn filled his lungs as he lit and raised the tobacco to his lips; a pleased groan tumbled from his mouth as he closed his eyes. Shit, he really needed it then. 

Once the Devil made it to his destination, he let out a purr at the sight of his chair. The smooth, velveteen cushions called out to him, beckoning the demon forth, and heed their call he did. 

The demon sat down with little fanfare, reclining against the back of his chair with a low groan. He could already feel the aching muscles cry out in relief, his shoulders visibly sagged, and he puffed at the cigar tucked beneath his teeth, 

Everything felt fine. Hell, better than fine, even. 

Then, as the Devil inhaled another lungful of smoke and closed his eyes, finally allowing his body and mind to melt into the soft fabric.

Just as he felt the back of his head graze against cloud-like cushioning, it had struck. 

A sudden wave of dread washed over his being. The fur along his collar raised, his cigar promptly forgotten as he snuffed it in a nearby ashtray; he looked behind him, towards the curtains of the balcony seat entrance– the only thing that offered a sense of privacy. 

They were currently drawn back, neatly held up by a golden rope. There was nary a stray hair or dust particle on them; perfectly untouched since he’s gotten here. The hall beyond was unoccupied; casino staff knew to make themselves scarce when it came to the Devil’s favorite haunt. 

His tail whipped against his chair leg, and he slowly– taking care to still glance behind him periodically– turned back towards his front. He craned his head up and scanned the floor beneath him. 

The air was filled with the familiar din of slot machines whirring, patron chattering, glasses clinking, and dice clattering against casino tables. Imps and other staff members walked the floors, resolutely tending to their duties or periodically entering the smoke lounge for their breaks. 

No one paid the demon any mind. Not even a glance his way. As far as they knew, the demon didn’t exist. 

This did nothing to quell the ever-growing apprehension that gnawed at his belly. 

With a huff, the Devil arised from his seat, and moved towards the entrance of his balcony. He peeked into the hallway, hand seamlessly tugging at the curtain’s binds. There wasn’t anyone to be seen. The disquieting feeling in his gut only grew worse as he drew the curtains closed. 

It couldn’t have been the tobacco that made him paranoid. He had only about two cigars. Centuries of building up a tolerance wouldn’t have allowed for it, either. Did he possibly forget about something? A crucial task or call that needed to be done? No, no— he wasn’t scatterbrained. 

King Dice would’ve already found out and been on top of him for that. Even now, the Devil could hear the man’s exasperated tirade in his head; muttering to himself and rubbing the smooth panes of his temples. 

The demon’s tail flicked against the floor. Pointed ears twitched as he dug a claw into his armrest. 

Did he lose something recently? No, the Devil hardly cared about such a thing. And highly unlikely. His imps knew well to immediately return anything misplaced— even if it was something minute as a pen. 

Better to ensure their own safety if they minimize any annoyance that could push him over the brink. 

Plush velvet-lined cushioning ripped and split open with a quiet creak. Soft, spongey yellowed innards emerged and fell to the floor in chunks, leaving behind the black skeletal arm of his chair. A growl, low and rough like the rumblings of a motor, slipped from his throat. 

What the hell was off about today?

He tapped his finger against the now exposed wood of his chair’s armrest; falling into a tempered rhythm as the Devil closed his eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, the faint beginnings of a headache buzz about in his skull. 

Had he not been so taken with this sudden paranoia, he would’ve noticed the steady clicks of dress shoes grow closer with each passing second. Had the dull ache that wracked his temples allowed it, he would have sensed the curtains ease apart. He would have turned to see the gloved hand gently peel back the drapes to reveal a rich purple suit. 

King Dice, a small silver tray in tow, slowly made his way past the curtains. The Devil, still nursing his blooming headache, was none the wiser. 

Tentatively, oh so slowly, the other man placed the tray down on a small table beside the Devil’s chair. It clinked as it sat down, the sound easily drowned out by the din of slot machines and raucous laughter. 

Yet it felt deafening in the solitary little balcony.

Instantly, the die felt eyes on him; sharp, bemused slits that glared witheringly at him. 

A lesser man would have backed away. They would have dismissed themselves. King Dice, on the other hand, merely offered a small, half-smile; hands tossed up in a mock-surrender. Hardly an ounce of fear was present in his bones; his dark eyes alight with a jovial shine. 

Eyes narrowed, the Devil sniffed; tail once again thwacking against the marbled floor. 

Suspicion creeped its treacherous tendrils into the back of his mind. 

He’s known Dice for a long time. Too long of a time to know that he was never this cheerful. If anything, the slimy bastard always looked vaguely annoyed at the world around him. Like he had hated every second of breathing the same air as the poor idiots who let themselves gamble away their life’s savings. Of course, he made sure to never clue any clientele in on his true nature; every smile flashed, every melodic laugh, and seductive gaze were the fruits of years of careful cultivation. 

This wasn’t normal. 

“Easy, Boss.” This jolly die soothed. “Just thought I’d present a gift.”

Strike two. Dice may have worked his keister off to get the job done, he may have been quick to sniff out any rats that dared to undermine the Casino’s power— but he never did this. King Dice was no suck up. 

The Devil planted his chin on the back of his hand. He’ll hold his tongue for now. Even as his hackles raised and ears jerked the longer he stared at the man. He’ll let this impostor prattle on. Even if it made his claws dig further into the naked arm of his chair. 

“Oh?” the Devil remarked. “Awfully generous of you.”

Faux Dice huffed as they turned back to face the demon, fake offense tinted their face in a dusty pink. They raised a hand to their chest, eyes closed.

“How very dare you,” they scoffed. “I have my moments.”

“Truely.” The demon muttered under his breath. 

The longer he stared at this phony, the more imperfections he found. 

Their eyelids were devoid of any purple, leaving them a chalky white. Dice was a vain dandy. He invested far too much time into his looks– so much so that the demon never saw him barren of makeup; the die often insisting that he could knock the more susceptible sinners to his charms dead with a single look. Hence why he often colored his lids with a smokey purple. Sometimes a subtle silver, if Dice didn’t have time to preen. 

Secondly was the smell. 

Demonfolk were more sensitive to smells– bestial nature and whatnot. He himself was no exception. 

King Dice constantly wore this cologne; stated that it was a weapon within his arsenal of seduction (the Devil fought against the urge to roll his eyes at the recollection). Caron Pour un Homme, a scent just as flowery as its name. It reeked of lavender. 

The minute this phony stepped in, the Devil smelled spice and wood, with a hint of sweetness. A smell his right-hand knew damn well that rubbed his boss the wrong way. Too reminiscent of incense burned during church service. 

That alone was enough to darken his already dour mood. 

Then there was…this. The way they acted. Like they were completely unafraid of him. Well, King Dice wasn’t afraid of him either. However, he wasn’t so…Casual. Dice doesn’t do that. He acted calm and unabashedly voiced his thoughts toward his boss, but he never was this playful… 

At least not to coworkers. That was saved for a special type of company. They were saved for the lucky little ladies and gents that caught his eye for the evening; ones that’ll keep his bed warm for the evening. Conquests get those honeyed words. Never for him. Not the Devil. 

A pain throbbed in his chest. Like someone had taken his soul into their palm and squeezed as hard as they could. The Devil ignored it. 

He took in another deep breath. Drummed his fingers against his chair at a faster tempo. All the while Faux Dice hummed as they poured over the tray they brought along. Humming a tune as silverware clinked and clattered against their shiny platform. 

Sweetness; Rich and decadent with a note of bitterness and a splash of coffee. The scent of chocolate hit his nose like a battering ram. 

Cat-like pupils expand and pooled out like ink splattered on paper. A purr ripped free from his throat before he could stop it. 

Faux Dice turned from their tray. In their hand sat a plate, small and hand-painted with flowering pansies, which held a slice of cake. Thickly frosted with a generous amount of dark chocolate. Topped with the tiniest dollops of white milk cream. 

“Devil’s Food Cake?” The Devil arched his brow. “Bit cliché don’t you think?” 

It didn’t stop the rumbling of his stomach. How it flip-flopped about in its cage as the Faux Dice chuckled. 

“Quite. You don’t look too mad about it.”

The purrs escaped again. Slipped out from his throat like slimy fish in a stream. The fake’s smile widened, eyes glinting with a coy shine. 

The Devil shoved away the traitorous butterflies that wreaked havoc in his stomach. 

“Can’t say I am. They put my name on it for a reason.” 

Faux Dice chuckled again. The corners of their eyes crinkled up, showing off their round dimples and pink-dusted cheeks. 

“I can imagine why.” 

They reached beside them, back towards the tray and picked up a fork. Dainty and engraved with floral finishings, polished to a fine shine. Gingerly, they dug into the moist pastry, scenting the air with its sugary perfume. 

Before the demon had the chance to open his mouth, it was raised towards his mouth. Pearly white frosting smeared against his lips and his chin; dotting the onyx flesh like stars at night. 

All the Devil could do was sit there. Dumbstruck. Heat filled his body; his stomach hot and heavy with a molten weight. His entire body grew slack. Numb. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs; like a marionette with severed strings. 

This shouldn’t happen. 

What he ought to do was put an end to this nonsense. Stop this half-baked mockery from going further. Anything to cease the treacherous butterflies from flying and digging their freakish proboscises into his heart and draining the life out of him.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, the Devil sat there. Slumped and mute as Faux Dice tutted as if they caught a child with their hand in the cookie jar. The world slowed as they leaned towards him. Their breaths fanned across his chin; white lips inches away from ebony. They smiled, eyes illuminated like green marbles in the sun. 

A gloved thumb teased against the corners of his lips; ghosts of warmth burned in their wake. Cream covered their thumb and the very air the demon breathes is bombarded with sugar; invading his lungs and teasing at his tongue. 

“Didn’t take you for a messy eater, boss~”

Faux Dice, slowly, agonizingly so, raised their thumb to their lips. Never once breaking eye contact as they licked the frosting off. They groaned, eyes fluttering shut, and shivered; their body completely enraptured in utter bliss. 

His head felt hot. Like someone had forced his face into a pot of boiling water; every sound outside the bubble of the balcony muffled and distorted. He could make out a rumbling noise faintly, and it dawned on him that he was purring up a storm. Was his tail wagging? 

“Boss?” 

A familiar voice interrupted them. The illusion is shattered in an instant. 

The Devil ripped himself away from the fake King Dice. He flew off of his seat, rising to his full height as his favorite chair fell back and crashed against the floor. He turned his head and was met with the sight of his real right hand. Who looked utterly baffled as he stared slack-jawed at his doppelganger. 

Horror dawned on the demon and drenched him in ice-cold water. He felt his mouth flop open and closed, yet all that emerged was silence. 

His pupils shattered and crumbled into a thousand little pieces, sinking to the bottom of his eyes, leaving behind an emptied pool of yellow. His head slumped back as steam poured out of his ears. 

King Dice, the true one, moved to speak, but laughter— shrill and high like a magpie’s cry— cuts him off.

The Devil snapped out of his stupor, and both men turned to the doppelganger. 

Faux Dice, eyes wide and wild, cackled as their features melted and drooped down their face. Chunks of gooey, viscous flesh hit the floor with wet slaps. Pink, stringy muscles peeled themselves back, revealing yellowed bone tissue and sharpened fangs; thin and numerous like the mouth of a piranha.

They removed their suit jacket with a flourish and spun; purple suede swallowed up their form to reveal an all too familiar thorn in the Devil’s side. 

“You.” The Devil hissed.

Mortification gave way to anger as the demon turned ruby red. 

“Me!”

A shit-eating grin was plastered onto your face as you stared at him, radiating that oh-so smug aura that never failed to infuriate him. 

“You know, Scratch,” The Devil’s eye twitched at the nickname. “You took your sweet time this turn around!”

King Dice, befuddled and at a loss for words, turned to the demon. 

“Boss…What did I walk in on?”

“Can it.” The Devil hissed.

“If I had known any better, you were really into my latest disguise! Made you wish for the real thing, didn’t I?” 

Your voice trembled as you fought back laughter. Eager hands clapped against your lips as the Devil summoned his trident; plumes of dark smoke billowed from his form as he narrowed his eyes at you. Slit-like pupils shifted, twitched and morphed into twin skulls and crossbones.  He’s marked you for death, he’s decided. 

King Dice’s already-white face paled even further. Oh no. No, no, no– he already knew where this was headed. He just gotten most of the lobby repaired since the last time you’ve broken into the casino. The die reached out towards his boss—

Only his hands captured thin air. 

The Devil launched himself at you. Curved prongs crashed into solid marble as you hopped up. The balcony half-wall exploded into a cloud of crushed rock and splintered wood. Debris fell and crashed into the floor below. A loud metallic CRUNCH followed soon after– no doubt the sound of several machines being crushed. 

Panic erupted as customers cried out in horror and scattered throughout the building. Imps hooted and hollered at the chaos, many of them immediately joining as they swooped and pounced on patron and demonic coworker alike. 

Throughout all of the din, however, King Dice made out your laughter and the angered roars of his employer the clearest. He cupped his head into his hands. 

He was nowhere near paid enough for this. 

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[purplemang0z]

I'm retconning + redesigning Millie a bit because past me was dumb!

Sooo here are some notes, so sorry if this bothers you guys I just thought I'd let you know.

Vannie and Quinton still exist but just more in the future so I won't be drawing them as much.

Millie is now a Devildice fankid (still adopted)

MugMils is still canon dw

I'm gonna draw her with more of the casino characters because aunts and uncles

[ask-devildice-brothers]

Why do you put lhdd au in your tags? and why is the blog called devildice BROTHERS when there's Lucifer who is the sister

HAHA funny story- weelllll-- My story started on Wattpad, and I wanted to translate it into English (at that time I was very bad at English). So, when translating the name of the story, which was 'Los hermanos devildice', the name itself is fine, although it says 'hermano' in Spanish, it can refer to sisters and brothers together.

So, The real translation should be "The siblings devildice", But my Past self was a idiot so she left it like that (the devildice brothers), I don't want to change it because it would look weird X'D

And for the other, why do I put lhdd au in my tags? Lhdd au means 'Los hermanos devildice au', the name of the story

[thewingedgoat]

Dice cheated on you?

[ando666detonao]

do you prefer game or show devildice? Which things about either of them do you prefer over the other?

(Very curious about your answer hehe… also I love your human designs for both versions…)

show i guess, when taking a look at the past 3yrs is pretty clear-cut which one got a tight grip on me lol

here's a wip i haven't touched in months for u<3

[crashcoursemaster]

“Kingsley, please! I’ve never been sure about anything in my whole life than I am right now!”

“I’m sorry my love...I can’t”

[cappycino]

y’all if DevilDice is your jam, feel free to check out my fic, I just uploaded chapter 3 8) (please mind the tags, this one’s 18+)

[funnybunnyfuzie]

recent drawings. real proud of the cab and fuzie :]

[zaraegis]

Attack! > Counter! > Defeat!💞

Some spiderhead shenanigans ficlet below the cut :V

It was just a little trick. One of the more mundane ones if he thought about it. He summons energies from beyond that swirl around in masterfully contained orbs that has his eyes shining from the sheer power displayed? Debtors kept that stupid 'ooh shiny' look even as he beat them into the ground.

He morphs into a towering serpent capable of eating most in two bites? Someone tries to pet him.

He literally strips off his skin and walks around as a skeleton? People eye him nervously there's tons of skeletons milling around and it's not a big deal.

He takes off his head and scuttles around on it like a spider? Everyone loses their shit. He's seen Pirouetta, the woman with the most steel in her spine he's ever met, look away and shudder delicately.

Chimes near upended an entire table scrambling to get away was one of the highlights of his life to be honest. It was exasperating and amusing, which was a common state in his life now, after making this casino and managing to wrangle all these weirdos into working for him.

Wheezy tried to explain it once, not quite meeting his eyes as he stuttered through something about 'legs' 'heads not needing to move around that fast' and 'hideous horrors beyond human comprehension'. Bah.

It's a parlor trick. If he had a parlor, he'd lounge about there and wrench his head off his shoulders just to get a rise out of everyone.

Well...

Most everyone.

"Were you getting a crick in your neck this morning boss?" Dice says, not looking up from the papers in his hands, always with the papers this man. When he looks up into where the Devil's head is casually skuttling around on his own shoulders he has the same expression as every time- bland polite amusement.

And the Devil has sharp ears okay- he's paid close attention every single time and never fails to hear the Manager's heart race and settle down just as quickly. Dice's face betrays nothing.

This... this is mildly insulting.

He says nothing and begins to scuttle closer to the man, aware of his many eyes, many legs and the soft clicking of legs on tile. The infuriating man says nothing and just looks at him through half lidded eyes like he's- like he's nothing more than a strange rock and not Satan Himself.

Before he can think twice about it he's climbing up the nearest pant leg and with a flutter of paperwork, he's plopped himself down in Dice's hands, frowning up at him. Watching closely for the slightest fear in the eyes, a minute shudder, a freaking muscle twitch.

Well, he gets a muscle twitch. The damned man smiles.

"What's up today boss, feeling bored?"

He has no dignity saving way to put it, but he droops into Dice's hands, aware he'll either be too afraid or too amused to drop him. Nothing.

Showing the first bit of interest since he came in, Dice leans closer to his Boss' head. Sucker.

"Are ya alr-" The Devil pounces.

Thankfully, they don't go down, but Dice digs his hands firmer into the back of his head and the sharp tug on his fur makes the Devil leer into the face he's mashed up against.

After a minute there's a muffled noise against his cheek and he deigns to pull back a bit from the deathgrip he has on Dice to look down and let the man breathe. This close it's even easier to track his racing heartbeat.

Dice smiles, which at that range is near deadly. Eyes lighting up attractively, cheeks easily turn a shade redder and managing to fit as many teeth into it as possible. His own heart, safely back at the desk with the rest of his body, starts speeding up. Oh, no..

He has a split second for his entire mind to screech to a halt with the sudden frightening realization that what Dice felt was most emphatically not fear before Dice leans right back up against his face and softly murmurs,

"I don't scare that easy boss."

The fur on his face is lightly stirred by the words, is how close he is and the Devil is just gazing wide eyed at him his cold jitters in his belly and the one part in his mind not screaming in the panic of jumping in deeper than he was prepared for is fervently wishing for Dice to lean down and kiss him for Hell's sake.

Instead, Dice pauses and smiles so it apples his cheeks with how wide it is. He slowly pulls farther away and the Devil hopes to hell and back that the small whine he made was too low for a mortal to hear. Wordlessly, he goes and deposits his head gently back on his desk and stacks the slightly rumpled papers there as well.

"Better luck next time boss." He says, like he does every time a table loses the roll, like he's just another customer. The Devil is snapped out of his inaction and is aware of his heated face and tripping heartbeat. Before he can do anything else, Dice is swanning out of his office, like nothing more interesting happened.

Dazed, he twists his head back on to better bury his face in his hands. Oh No.

[clairlycreature]

o yeah i made this 😎

COMIC TIME! (Made by Sleepy)

;]]]]]]

[blazinginferno626]

Attention fellow devildice shippers

I know I talk about devildice a lot so after this post I will be taking a little break from posting about them for a while but before I do so I wanna point this out dave wasson producer of the cuphead show had this in his story today:

He has also had a lot of devildice art in his story in the past so I just wanted to bring that up and there was also this:

Cj Kettler executive produer on the show also liked a fan post about devildice on twitter I just wanted to let that be known. 

[grapecinnamon]

Now that I've finished The Cuphead Show S1C (which was freaking amazing and I really hope we get season 2a/4), I would like to list out the best and/or wildest moments (in my opinion)

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!

The Devil's Revenge

-"Its not like you lost MUGMAN."

-i love how for these past 3 months, we were all talking about how scared Mugman would be, but he's just treating hell like it's nothing

-Mugman was 100% sure Cuphead was not going to heaven

-ok but Cuphead and Mugman being so happy to see each other always puts a big smile on my face

-Cuphead going back to the soul ball game (which is so fucking genius and I lost it when I saw that)

Don't Answer The Door

-Baby Bottle 2: Electric Boogaloo

-"I've never seen fingertip bullets." "Oh ho it's happening somewhere! Believe you, me!"

-Milkpiss™

Cupstaged

-Sally Stageplay pretending to have rabies

-Rocky Horror Picture Show Devil

-Mugman briefly pretends to be Sandra Bullock

Roadkill

-Henchman getting put in a bubble along with the rest of the Devil's beloved things

-Kettle thinks Devil's a cat despite how fucking big he is

-I love how Devil starts to like being a cat

-also I couldn't help but squeal when I saw Kettle and the goat together at the end

Holiday Treedition

-omg the freaking stop motion shot of the house

-i was stimming like CRAZY every time they sang

-Brave Little Toaster lookin saw machine

A Very Devil Christmas

-also can anyone tell me why Cuphead's bad enough to go to hell but good enough to get on Santa's nice list?

-also aaaahhh! Devil in his conductor outfit!

-and nnnnngh! Henchman making the train for Devil

-and eeeeeee! the stop motion shots omfg!

-and finally AAAAHHHHH! THE SCENE WITH DEVIL AND CUPHEAD!

Special Delivery

-Mugman Drag Mugman Drag Mugman Drag

-also not Mugman saying Chalice has big feet when his are clearly huge compared to him

-Devil knows Ms. Chalice

Down and Out

-hands down the best episode

-King Dice sings again (god Wayne Brady's voice is so good)

-"Can we get another round of shots?"

-Devildice fans, come get ya juice!

Joyride

-Chalice just casually possesses Kettle

-and Mugman

-also omgomgomgomgomgomgomg Chalice going to hell

Dance with Danger

-Chalice literally dies on screen

-and she happens to die on the same day she met the cup bros

The Devil and Ms. Chalice

-Chalice getting a vision of her dead self

-omgomgomg the dance competition OMG IT WAS SO GOOD

-also KING DICE IS HERE FOR MORE THAN ONE EPISODE THIS SEASON

-Cuphead winning against the devil repeatedly in rock paper scissors

-finally, WE GOT TO SEE THE FUCKING CASINO!

~

Y'all I'm still in shock the last three episodes fucked me up in a good way omg I need more