ducktastic-dad

[ducktastic-dad]

nothing  but  the  occasional  distant  croak  of  a  far-off  toad  keeps  lucifer  company  as  he  continues  to  traverse  damp  terrain.  not  a  peep  of  song  from  the  birds  above,  though  he  looks  once  or  twice  upwards  to  spot  what  he  thinks  among  the  mist  may  be  a few,  motionless  and  silent  upon  their  perches.  it  is  not  the  environment  lucifer  has  grown  used  to  hearing  or  seeing,  welcoming  warmth  sucked  dry  to  leave  only  the  paltry  comfort  of  fireflies  still  twinkling  through  the  reeds.  an  atmospheric  pressure  that  would  put  anyone  on  edge,  he  reasons  with  himself,  until  he  is  brought  to  a  paralyzing  halt that validates his fears. a  cry  bellows  through  the  thick  permeation  of  fog,  slicing  through  the  silence  around  him  in  a  guttural  high  pitch.  if  only  his  heart  were  still  in  his  chest,   (  though  it  is  not  housed  all  that  far  away  currently,  )   he  is  sure  it  would  be  beating  slightly  harder  against  his  ribcage.

the  sound  keeps  his  attention  just  long  enough  that,  once  he  finds  the  will  to  move  again,  one  misstep  plunges  the  sheen  red  of  his  hoof  into  the  edge  of  a  puddle.  stirring  up  the  mud  below,  and  dirtying  the  water,  as  well  as  the  once  pristine  fur  carrying  up  his  ankle.  a  necessary  sacrifice.  it  allows  some  of  the  tension  in  his  posture  to  release  with  mild  irritancy,  able  to  shake  some  of  those  jitters  out  alongside  the  dirty  water  he  slings  to  the  grass.  bit  of  a  shame,  though.  it  wasn't  more  than  a  few  hours  before  this,  he  had  preened  himself  pretty  ━ not  that  lucifer  will  know  until  it  is  far  too  late,  but  in  hindsight,  a  rich  herbal  bath  was  probably  not  ideal  to  take  before  coming  here.  allowing  himself  to  steep  in  the  soothing  smells  of  rosemary  and  vanilla  sea  salts,  amid  the  caramel  apple  accents  of  his  shampoo  ━  because  why  wouldn't  he  want  alastor  to  breathe  in  his  refreshing  presence  and  crave  it  further  ━  not  knowing  under  such  bizarre  circumstances  it  may  be  working  in  ways  he  did  not  intend.  or  did  intend,  maybe,  though  not  to  such  a  horrific  extent.

now  he  is  here,  and  already  he  has  sabotaged  his  own  efforts. but  there  is  no  point  in  standing  around  to  fuss  over  the  luster  of  his  hooves,  not  when  he  is  supposed  to  be  pressing  on.  he  can  spot  the  willow  ahead,  its  familiar  hovel  just  within  view.  perhaps  that  bugle  was  just  one  of  those.  .  .  atmospheric  sounds  alastor  sought  to  make  the  bayou  more  realistic,  or.  .  .  or  something  ?   he  continues  to  reason,   (  making  excuses,  )   but  he  does  not  stop.  he  carries  himself  to  the  foot  of  the  willow  after  what  feels  like  far  too  long,  now  clinging  to  his  novelty  duck-shaped  pillow  in  both  hands.  if  alastor  is  not  up  the  tree,  then  ━  his  gaze  lifts  up  the  trunk,  hopeful,  and  then  shifts  to  peer  towards  the  tree  line.

four  bald  cypress  boughs  bend  with  an  unnatural  weight  among  the  surrounding  trunks,  as  if  there  is  some  invisible  force  parting  them  ;  and  then  he  realizes,  with  widening  and  observant  eyes,  that  they  are  not  trees.  that  they  build  into  a  dark  shape  that  blends  into  the  fog,  and  that  above  that  shape  protrudes  the  silhouette  of  a  head,  and  above  that,  antlers  he  had  mistaken  for  stiffly  swaying  branches.  an  entirely  self-inflicted  trick  of  the  eyes.  to  think  his  senses  have  dulled  from  the  belief  that  he  is  safe  within  alastor's  walls  is  somehow  more  unnerving  than  the  reflective  glare  he  makes  eye-contact  with.

❝    alastor  ?  .  .  .    ❞

his  call  is  quieter  than  he  intends,  though  he  would  not  be  surprised  if  those  satellite  dishes  for  ears  are  able  to  pick  up  his  call.  it  has  been  awhile  since  he  last  saw  alastor  in  such  an  overtly  demonic  state  ━  always  lucid,  always  in  control.  beautiful  in  a  beastly  way,  vivid  visions  of  the  day  they  met  formally  where  he  took  much  less  of  a  liking  to  the  sight.  he  can  still  hear  it  distantly,  the  scream  of  sinners  incapable  of  escaping  that  wide  gullet, more occupied with  pestering  his  daughter than feeling pity for strangers. whether  that  same  craving  for  violence  is  a  part  of  why  the  radio  demon  looks  at  him  like  this  now,  he's  yet  to  find  out.  it  could  just  as  well  be  the  result  of  a  particularly  awful  night  terror,  or  anger  of  a  source  not currently  known  to  him.  it  is  impossible  to  know  until  he  is  told.  in  fact  ━  maybe  it  would  be  better,  as  it  usually  is,  to  ask  upfront  and  bold.  a  good  start  would  be  becoming  more  eye-level.

❝    oho-kay,  well,  i'm  just  gonna.  .  .  head  on  up  there.    ❞

a  red-tip  claw  lifts  to  point  towards  the  entrance  of  the  hollow,  and  his  throat  clears,  swallowing  down  his  anxieties.  it  is  somehow  a  reassurance  to  tell  his company  what  he  will  do  in  advance  ━  as  if  it  will  maintain  the  calm  before  the  storm  ━  before  he  is  stepping  towards  the  willow  in  front  of  him,  eager  to  reach  the  entrance.   (  eager  for  shelter from what's to come.  )   his  movements  are  sluggish,  save  for  the  way  he  tosses  his  pillow  to  disappear  into  the  nest  above  before  he  dares  the  ascent  himself.

❝    juuust  so  ya  know.  .  .    ❞

and  as  soon  as  his  eye  contact  breaks,  his  movements  pick  up  in  an  incremental  haste,  pedes  scrabbling  to  climb   (  with  some  assistance  from  the  recent  nook  alastor  put  in  the  trunk  )   up  the  bark  so he may  disappear  through  the  curtain  of  leaves. 

@ducktastic-dad ⧐ lucifer is only somewhat embarrassed to acknowledge how difficult sleep has become when he is alone. the absence of warmth, a comforting hold, the rhythmic and restful breaths that hit against him in soft blows ━ the list goes on, piling small comforts until they build a foundation of safety impossible to be without. that he does not want to be without. so it is really no surprise, with how frequently it happens, that the devil has donned his sleepwear with pillow under-arm on a mission to invade alastor's chamber during the witching hours. stealthy, cloven hoofs pad their way down the halls until he is able to reach his destination, undetected by other residents.  ( though he supposes there is a chance some of them might not be so surprised at the sight. )  and once he is face to face with the door, he lifts a fist to give the wood a few dainty raps.  usually he would stop there. wait for alastor to open the door, greet him as the frequent guest that he is, and encourage him inside with unspoken promises of staying the night. but they've done this many times before, haven't they ?  it wouldn't hurt to try the handle, let himself in a bit prematurely.  the knob twists with a metallic shift, click, and it is predictably unlocked, indicating to lucifer that the room is not without its host. odd though, once the door creaks open for lucifer to slip through the crack, that alastor has not come to the door to greet him as he would have expected. the door whines shut again, and his gaze pans to the fireplace sparking dim green embers. almost just as odd, having assumed over time that alastor either tends to it regularly through himself or some other extension. something about the atmosphere begins to weigh on him. maybe they've already gone to sleep, then ? not in either of the chairs, clearly. he walks further in, farther and farther from the door to observe that their bed doesn't seem to be occupied either. there is one other place he hasn't checked ━ and it would be a bit flattering to think, that alastor would rather take up residency in the willow nest. it is by that line of logic that he ventures even further,  ( never failing to be impressed by the illusory expansion, )  off the beaten path from floorboards into the soft grass of the bayou. passing the graceful bows of willows laden with moss, navigating with some narrow calls between puddles and mud, all the while feeling something not unlike a knot tie behind his forehead and a pit begin to settle in his stomach. the call of crickets is awfully quiet tonight. UNPROMPTED ASKS.

Under normal circumstances, Alastor may have agreed with him. To share space with Lucifer is akin to normalcy now - tucked away within the safe nest of one of their beds or the other as he takes advantage of the safety offered by Lucifer's presence to permit himself to sleep. True rest which he has not been able to receive without stress in many years. It is a habit now to welcome the other into his arms, no matter where they are, and while away the time until they cannot keep their eyes open.

But these are not normal circumstances.

One secret he has kept, though not because of any risk so much as habit and a desire to not appear overtly like the wretch that he is, is his cloying, ever-present hunger. It is appeased often by regular meals, that is true. He can stave off any truly negative side effects - the worst of which is outright starvation - by ensuring that he does not skip eating.

The other side effect, however, is trickier.

What is not eased by regular food remains, gnawing at him. A punishment gifted for his gluttony in life: a desire to consume flesh as he had. Sinner flesh - human flesh. It is always lingering beneath the surface, bubbling, broiling. He can never truly be rid of it, though he has no true desire to be, aside from the frustrating urge that he has to chase before it gets out of hand. Whether obtained freshly made or simply purchased from a vendor within the Cannibal Town, he has always remembered to obtain something to stave it off.

Until now, it seems.

Having been dragged into the ever-persistent duties of hotelier, sometimes things slip between the cracks. Not only is he reminded of his desire and need for flesh, but it seems he has not made time for regular meals either. A mistake, by any measure. And he is now paying for it, pacing within the bayou like a starved animal (which, for all intents and purposes, he is) as he searches for some source of sustenance. Whether or not there is anything that lives there that can fill his belly, he cannot fully conceive of it being impossible to find something to eat. His head lacks the capacity to think through his choices, stalking with long, gangly limbs between the willows like some specter of looming danger.

Though he does not immediately understand that Lucifer is in proximity, it takes him all of a few minutes of the other's presence to alert him, ears swiveling forward to listen. To smell. It is not human flesh that he scents, but it is flesh all the same, enough to confuse him as he turns towards the distant transitionary area from the bayou to the room.

He is slow. Lumbering as he steps with heavy hooves in the direction of the meal that calls to him. His stomach is a wide open maw, hungering for any sustenance. Teeth gnashing, eyes fixated forward with dilated pupils and yet not truly seeing.

From the mist, the eerie, growing crescendo of a bugle sounds - as though he has located and is in pursuit of his prey. Eager. Hungry. Claws grasp at nearby trees to maintain his balance as he steps forward towards this new presence; this new willing delivery of blood and muscle. Red, spiraling dials amid blackened sockets search, maw parted in bared teeth and heavy breaths which billow in the fog.

Until Lucifer - and the nest - are both in view. And Alastor pauses as he stands within the mist, taken aback by his prey's lack of survival instinct. Why has he wandered so delicately into the willing grasp of such a beast?

Well.

Perhaps it is a gift.

[ducktastic-dad]

difficult person test : lucifer edition .

[ducktastic-dad]

❝    i  think  you  broke  your  alvin  and  the  chipmunk's  cd.    ❞

♚ " Oh are we playing songs? Here's one of my favorites! Helps me think! "

♚ Lucifer played this song.

[ducktastic-dad]

❝    none  of  you  have  any  class.  now  this  is  what  real  music  sounds  like  !     ❞

[ducktastic-dad]

@hazbinned  ; 

"... If you'd played CBAT for your wife, she wouldn't have left you. Just sayin'."    unprompted asks  ━  always accepting.

❝    what  the  hell  is  this  ━  that  techno-dub-stuff  ?    ❞

putrid.  an  assault  on  the  body  and  mind  and  SOUL.

❝    no,  you  know  what  ?   you're  right.  she  wouldn't  have  left  ━  she  probably  would  have  taken  me  to  a  hospital,  to  fix  the  crater-sized  concussion  in  my  head.    ❞

[ducktastic-dad]

POV: you’re an eternal god surrounded by constant suffering

[ducktastic-dad]

#LuciAngstWeek2025

Day 2: Outcast/Failure

Just tell him how he needs to be for you to love him!

[ducktastic-dad]

@highstakcs  ;  Name: Husk. Age: Old enough. Do you like to cuddle?: Maybe. Can we make-out?: If you play your cards right. A night in or dinner out?: Whatever. I guess a night out wouldn't kill me. I'm already dead. Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: Not my thing. What makes you a good Valentine?: I'm not. This would be a bad idea on your part. Would you cook for me?: I can make you a drink. That's about it. Would you let me cook for you?: ... Can you cook? Let's just get take out. (he's so good at selling himself...)    valentine's applications  ━  accepting.

❝    you  sell  yourself  too  short,  husky  !   ━  can  i  call  you  husky  ?   anyway  ━  my  sweet  charlie  speaks  very  fondly  of  you,  i'm  sure  you  have  plenty  of  reasons  you'd  be  a  good  valentine's  partner.  it  sounds  like  a   “  totally  chill  ”   time.    ❞

such  nonchalance,  very  appealing  !   (  and  lucifer  is  oh-so  lonely.  )

❝    consider  yourself  valentines-ed,  or.  .  .  whatever  the  term  is.  my  answer  is a  yes.    ❞

[ducktastic-dad]

lucifer's mood:

[ducktastic-dad]

based off a new meme template on Twitter LMAO

[ducktastic-dad]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 * rules: use the generator to generate headcanons for your muse, and post 5-10 results that you agree with

lucifer likes board games, but no one else wants to play with him. ( he spends 9 hours on 1 monopoly game. )

lucifer knows the lyrics to never gonna give you up by heart.

lucifer can play the kazoo.

lucifer has fallen asleep at their desk while working in the middle of the night.

lucifer wears hello kitty socks.

lucifer can drive. ( he took his test in 1934, do not let him go behind the wheel. )

lucifer doesn't know how to say he's sorry.

lucifer can't sit in a chair properly.

lucifer forgets to eat sometimes.

it would not take much for lucifer to turn evil.

[ducktastic-dad]

@ducktastic-dad said: ( valentine's application for 2p!al 🦆💛 ) name: lucifer morningstar age: i'm still in my prime. do you like to cuddle?: yes! can we make-out?: maybe. if i am feeling generous. a night in or dinner out?: a night in, i am not much of a people-person. ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: strawberries sound more refreshing, and it's something easy we could make together. unless you want ice cream. if you want ice cream i'm changing my answer, pretend i never wrote that first part. what makes you a good valentine?: a better question would be what doesn't! would you cook for me?: if you like sweets. i am also good at charcuterie boards and sandwiches? would you let me cook for you?: i would. (please

valentine's day application

❅ " M... me? I... I got one....you... you like me?? "

Tail wagging a mile a minute.

" I am.... happy! But...! I say... ice cream.... i am deathly.... allergic... to chocolate...! " Plain strawberries were fine though, there was always that.

" You don't.... want me.. cooking. I am... the worst but....I adore.. sweets! I'll eat... just about... anything.... not chocolate... though! "

"It's okay.... I am shy.... too! I love.... this holiday! I love... love!!"

[ducktastic-dad]

❝    i'm  not  old  ━  i'm  aged,  like  a  fine  wine  !    ❞

[ducktastic-dad]

anon  ;  "Thoughts about your Daughter's Hotel Business Idea?"   unprompted asks  ━  always accepting.

❝    oh  ━  well,    ❞

should  he  really  be  giving  this  random  sinner  an  honest  opinion  on  something  so  sensitive  ?   .  .  .  lucifer  is  no  stranger  to  the  concept  of  journalism,  if  that  is  what  this  ambush  is  about,   (  because  who  else  would  have  the  gall  to  walk  up  and  ask  ?  )   but  a  king  knows  better  than  to  be  completely  unfiltered. 

❝    i  wouldn't  have  given  her  the  hotel  in  the  first  place  if  i  had  no  faith  in  her  idea,    ❞

although  he  cannot  say  he  has  that  same  faith  in  the  damned  souls  buzzing  around  her like pests ;  not  entirely.   (  not  even  close.  )   his  neighbors  are  nice  enough  for  the  most  part,  sure,  charlie  has  made  good  friends, he can make a few exceptions  ━  but  the  rest  of  his  ring  ?   corrupt to the core.  it  would  take  a  true  miracle,  and  within  these  rotten  prison  walls  there  is  no  such  a  light.

❝    charlie  is  a  smart  girl.  even  if  it  isn't  possible  to  rehab  ━  aha  ━  excuse  me  ━  redeem  sinners,  hell  will  be  better  off  with  a  few  less  corrupt  souls  running  around.  can't  go  anywhere  but  up  when  we've  already  hit  rock  bottom  !   am  i  right  ?    ❞

[ducktastic-dad]

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒  (  prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver’s hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver’s hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver’s hair [ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver’s body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver’s body [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver’s body

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.

[ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sour ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender feeds receiver something spicy ( specify what ) [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what ) [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood [ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ―  sender gives receiver a taste of what they’re cooking / baking for their opinion

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver [ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

[ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver [ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what ) [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc [ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver’s ear ( specify what ) [ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song [ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc ) [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep [ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc ) [ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place [ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them

𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋.

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver’s bath [ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver [ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek ) [ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄�� ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel [ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation [ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil

[ducktastic-dad]

Ok last one for today. I just really wanted to draw Vaggie.

[ducktastic-dad]

Two dads😭