cloakedandsoaked

[cloakedandsoaked]

“Who’s one of the weirdest people you’ve ever met? You’ve spent thousands of years on this bitch of an earth. You must’ve encountered all sorts of freaks and weirdos.” For Tal

"Something about being around for so damn long, is that the term 'weird' starts to lose meaning. Eventually, everyone reminds you of someone else, or a blend of a few someones else. I play pretend that some people are special, but it's just because I'd die of boredom if I didn't. "You wanna know something I've never seen before, though? Whatever the fuck it is that Lucida Gautreaux... is... now. Don't like that shit."

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saligiare​:

  Laughter. While not the most creative option in Asmodeus’ opinion, at least it seemed to fit him. Dantalion’s voice echoed through the halls of his throne room, losing itself in corners so far and dark that the shadows themselves started feeding on it. Asmodeus did not release his hold on the quaking figure for a second. On a spectrum from complete catatonia to sky-high hysteria, the duke was holding himself up pretty well, all things considered. And somehow, Asmodeus could not help but envy him a little.

  His body ached. His skin tingled. His head buzzed quietly like a hive full of bees - overflowing, but strangely empty. The greatest pleasure the whole ordeal had provided him with was the observation of Dantalion’s reaction, stretching from this very moment on and into an unknown future. But Dantalion was right, somewhat. Asmodeus did not truly know how he felt. Pushing somebody through all the highs and the lows was one slice of cake, experiencing them yourself another five. And Asmodeus longed to feel. Something. Anything. The more extreme, the better. Pain, pleasure, wrath, joy - give them to him all, raw, unhinged, bloody, until he screamed for mercy. Wouldn’t that just be a beautiful change of pace?

  Softly, he pressed his lips against any patch of skin he could find, and lingered there. As long, clawed fingers danced round and round of soothing warmth against Dantalion’s back, Asmodeus gave a quiet hum.

  “Yes, love?”

Outrage was a hell of a drug, able to keep Dantalion and (at least a precious few of) his thoughts lucid and intelligible up to this point, however more tempting hysteria seemed to him by the second. And it was tempting. More than tempting; he intuited that if he did not crack here, where he had at least some semblance of support, the weight of what had just happened might destroy him once he was alone.

It was a good thing, then, that Asmodeus' next words broke something within him.

"Gonna -- " he choked off with a snot-filled, mongrel sound, descended on one side from a sob and on the other from, perhaps, a giggle. Asmodeus had asked him directly what he meant! What a thing! (And with him in no state to answer properly, a distant part of him noted with no small amount of wryness, but that was irrelevant.) It was the final stroke his poor, ill-used mind could take for the moment, and his body, once as tense as a grammatical category expressing time reference, relaxed into Asmodeus' hold entirely.

" -- need a bigger broom," he slurred as if it were unimportant -- which, for now, it was.

[cloakedandsoaked]

finding love in the crab bucket like. is adjacent and has overlap with enemies to lovers but like it’s about the bucket. the bucket is essential

[cloakedandsoaked]

@ghoulishundertakings​

“Pie?”

[cloakedandsoaked]

guildoffarah​:

“I was not trying to ‘steal their snacks’ I was trying to wa-”

“I’m not getting into this. It’s none of your business to begin with.”

“Of course, sir. Have an excellent weekend.” Does he acknowledge weekends? Uh.

[cloakedandsoaked]

guildoffarah​:

@cloakedandsoaked​

“Sounds intentional to me, if you don’t mind me saying, sir.”

“Are you suggesting that if I were intending to haunt somewhere that the best I would do is the odd sighting in the forest or a bird taking their berries?”

“Assuredly not. Yet not every haunting requires, let’s say, the ‘nuclear option’. Sometimes one can get the job done by, and I do mean this with the utmost respect, spying on someone and stealing their snacks. It’s economical, really.”

[cloakedandsoaked]

🎙🎙

Drop a🎙 in the inbox for a confession from the mun.

I recently put myself in the ER by masturbating too furiously the evening before. I didn't figure out that's what was 'wrong' (strained, cramping muscle causing intense chest pains) until a couple days after the fact, and have told no one at all until now. 🫣

Also. I have trouble testing my own blood sugar, not, as I tell everyone, because I forget to or because it's too many steps or whatever. I'm just legit scared of the stabby thing. I can give myself insulin injections daily, with no problem whatsoever, but something about the clicky-stabby of the thing used to get blood for the test gives me the creeping horrors. It makes so much damn noise!

[cloakedandsoaked]

⛔️💕

💕 Name 3 similarities you have with your muse. ⛔️ Name 3 differences you have with your muse.

Dantalion and I both have sensory sensitivities -- but his are from trauma, and mine are inborn.

Neither of us wear high heels, but for very different reasons: I dislike them because I am uncoordinated and have weak ankles, therefore making heels a potential disaster. Tal dislikes them because he prefers to feel more of his feet solidly against the ground, and because heels interfere with foot-flapping.

Both of us spend too much time online, but where I tend to hang around tumblr, youtube, and facebook, Tal prefers tv tropes, insta, and twitter. (Bonus: We're both redditors!)

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🌟 (Crocell)

🌟 What inspired you to create/choose this muse?

Gonna be honest, I have literally no idea. They just happened, one day, as far as I remember.

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[cloakedandsoaked]

[cloakedandsoaked]

Alright it's the mun's turn

Drop a🎙 in the inbox for a confession from the mun.

It can be funny, serious, irrelevant etc. Just as long as you're comfortable

[cloakedandsoaked]

Mun and muse relationship asks!

🤝If you met your muse IRL, would you get along?

👋 Would you want to meet your muse IRL?

🌎 If you could spend a day with your muse in their universe, what would you do together?

😻 Have you ever named a pet, plush, or anything at all after your muse?

👚 Do you have any merch of your muse?

💑 Would you date your muse?

💋 Would you sleep with your muse? (18+ mun and muse only.)

💍 Would you marry your muse?

💕 Name 3 similarities you have with your muse.

⛔️ Name 3 differences you have with your muse.

🙇 What kinds of things “wake up” your muse?

🎧 What songs make you think of your muse?

🌟 What inspired you to create/choose this muse? 

[cloakedandsoaked]

saligiare​:

  Call him cruel. Or sadistic. Or a monster. None of these words could describe even a fraction of how far the demon prince had gone, and was ready to go still. They were not wrong as much as they were weak, their semantic essence as insufficient as the adjective “warm” to describe the insides of a bubbling volcano, and just about as subjective. The sun itself would only laugh at such descriptors - if it gave a damn, that was.

  Oh, Asmodeus knew what he had done to Dantalion. He had not done it often before, but logic required that he had invaded another being so thoroughly and violently that rebuilding it would take a life time, and still the scars would never fade. Earthquakes and tsunamis at least had the decency to not act consciously or with intent. Asmodeus could not claim any of these excuses. Being who he was, he did not even see the need to. Dantalion had known, after all. Even if he truly had not. …Well, anyway. Now he did.

  Following the pull of Dantalion’s hands on his hair, Asmodeus curled himself around the duke even tighter. He was bigger than the other in this shape, though in a strange and distorted kind of way. Pale hands ending in scorched fingertips gently smoothed over the stiff curve of Dantalion’s spine, and the demon prince pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

  “I know. I know.”

  Like a cool breeze on heated skin, Asmodeus breathed his words into the poor creature’s mind. “It will be okay. It is aaaall going to be okay, love. It hurts, I know. I am here. I am here.”

Asmodeus, Dantalion would have maintained (had he the interest in speaking, at the moment), did not know shit in a shoe box. Well, the cuddling was a nice touch, literally, soothing Tal’s whining sobs into something more resembling hiccups. However, the kisses were greatly preferred to what came out of the prince’s mouth when he chose to open it.

Not that the little speech didn’t cut into Dantalion’s mind like cold shortening into a biscuit dough, flaking apart the layers with a lightness normally reserved for pastry. It was almost obscene, and, indeed, a bystander might have mistaken his sigh for something much more indecent than the sliding away of a mental weight. Maybe, if it hadn’t been followed up with a spate of unsettling laughter.

‘It hurts’? Of course it hurts! Pain was hardly the issue at hand. Asmodeus may as well have been kissing the skinned knee of someone with a sucking chest wound, for all that acknowledgement did. It galled to hear such peculiar pity from the very one who had caused his current state. He didn’t need pity; he needed a hand up! Fuck hurt, he was as disoriented as he had ever been, and frighteningly close to despair.

Ah, but Dantalion had known, after all. Even if he truly had not. …Well, anyway. Now he did. The cackling trailed off, reduced once again to mere hiccups.

His mind flashed back to the beginning of this fiasco, had it been hours, or days, or weeks ago -- and the laughter nearly seized him once more. Instead, and not knowing what he meant, he choked out the sweet, dangerous word that had got him here in the first place.

“Please.”

[cloakedandsoaked]

Where are your leggies, Bubbus? :o

[cloakedandsoaked]

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

We don't do rituals, here. Too much dysfunction in my executive function. I just write when the magic place in my brain lights up, and I don't write when it doesn't do that. Good luck predicting either state.