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d e p r α v ι т y

@oracles-somnium / oracles-somnium.tumblr.com

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utsarga

tagged by: utsarga o 3 o

repost this and tag some people you want to know better.

tagging: p sure everyone has been tagged sooooo 

name: sarah  nicknames: bae, chickenbutt, and juju by sevendeadlysinbad idk she gives me all the nicknames { we also endearingly refer to each other as hooker, skankbanger, and sugarnipples } gender: pure lady sexual orientation: i fluctuate between homosexual and bisexual, but always homoromantic height: 5’3" 

favorite color: UHHHHH purple???? pink is great too. i like alot of pastels tbh time and date at the current moment: 12/09/14 and it's 9:05pm EST average hours of sleep: 6... 8 on a good day but not likely

lucky number: 9 last thing i googled: prob synonyms for some word first word that comes into mind: fire one place that makes me happy: the beach u v u how many blankets i sleep under: sheet & comforter not much else

favorite fictional character: i.... oh god. Undertaker from Kuro is p great tbh but prob also Sheena like she's my bae IDK HOW DO YOU CHOOSE THESE THINGS book: the vampire chronicles??? maybe.... i really did like the hunger games tv show: currently??? uhhhh like prob game of thrones. i don't actively keep up w tv shows rn favorite beverage: tea & cherry coke last movie i’ve seen in cinemas: the hobbit 2 dream holiday: prob disney too HA because bae hates the beach dream wedding: DONT GET ME STARTED. but def in the spring at the biltmore estates in the garden area. i have colors & everything picked out and we're still working on it tbh dream job: does independently wealthy count????

#;outofrukh;
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Slender fingers and lips with their faded gloss were far more intrigued by the cigarettethan what the younger man (a solid ten years younger, not that sinbad looked his age—few in the f a s h i o n industry ever did, at least on his side of the camera) had to say to him. His back was turned to Judal, who lay in his bed behind him and he let out a bit of chuckle, knocking the ashes into a red ash tray that sat on his bedside table. A hand carded through his purple hair and he grabbed the pack of Blacks that sat on the table, tanned digits with their painted nails offering one of the flavored cigarettes to the other figure.
Standing, he crossed the room idly, pulling his hair up with an elastic band grabbed from the table as well. He looked like a model: he was pristine, the image of Narcissus when he gazed into a pool and fell in love with himself. The jeans—not removed during their consummation of whatever the hell this was—fit him so perfectly it was a sin as he reached his hands down to zip them back up, the cigarette dangling idly between his lips.
Though, though when judal made that comment he had to smirk a bit, peering into the mirror to shift his untidy bangs back into their proper location, holding the cigarette in his idle hand between his middle and index finger in that flippant way. Everything he did wasflippant and dismissive in that way, like, oh, he just didn’t have time for this kind of behavior.
                              “You act like it’s the first time.”
No, the first time had been the result of Sinbad picking the underage boy up at a bar downtown. Fake Ids were very easy to get one’s hands on in a city like this, Sinbad would know, he’d been there once, sneaking into clubs when he was sixteen, seventeen. But that’s just how the business worked. (Admittedly, it had been almost s a d when he couldflash his real ID to get in anywhere he wanted…but now everyone knew who he was, his name was in lights and few bothered even asking. Which, was fine, because his current license picture was the result of a hangover—)
“Or the last,”  he mused, moving back over to that bed with the sashay of movement. How did his hair fall so perfectly over his shoulder and his body? Like some ethereal drape placed upon him by angels. If nothing, nothing else, the radiant visage of the man was beautiful, in that intergender way that was all the rage in the modeling world. And blessedly ageless, because the modeling business was so very harsh on those that looked older.
That’s why he had a business to fall back on, really.              D e s p i t e all the claims to the contrary, he really wasn’t so shallow                       as to be nothing more than a pretty face.
(the 4.0 gpa from princeton didn’t convince anyone otherwise,                                              but let them think what they would.)
The bed depressed under his weight a bit as he sat back down in that casual way that he had about him. He seemed the man that never really did take anything seriously, but that was just the air he liked to put off, reaching for the Samsung Android that sat on the bedside table next to the digital clock, reading 3:24 am.
“Need a ride to work in the morning?” spoke those lips around the cigarette idly. 
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This guy was a fucking d i c k—all the great lays usually were, right? The first time he didn’t consider to have counted; he had been intoxicated, for fuck’s sake—and it wasn’t his fault this p o m p o u s ass had taken him to his super fancy condo instead of home. Then again, Ithnan probably would have killed him—after holding his hair back from the toilet.

                                                                                   Still.                                                                                       --and he’d h a r d l y engaged the s e c o n d time, recalling finding himself once more in a flashy car and heading in the wrong fucking direction. Not to mention he had been wearing a suit for well-over ten hours and—well, yeah—the two had been kind of eye fucking, but again beyond the goddamn point. He hadn’t necessarily called Ithnan for a ride home; or taken the offer for a cab; or tried to push him off… but—

                                                                   ah, fuck.

Considering it an opportune time, he may as well t a k e the fucking cigarette, fishing one out from the box and balancing it between his lips—“You got a fuckin’ lighter or do you expect me to Human Torch this shit?” Regardless of the overwhelming kindness, he would never stray from being the smartest ass he could be, especially with this douchebag.

“Just shut the fuck up—you’re too fucking confident. How about I tell you to shove that Malibu you were drinking up your ass and say to hell with it.” Not that he would—well, he might, but the reality of the situation was they would infect each other’s spaces down the road thanks to their unfortunate connection, and honestly it would more than likely lead to this exact scenario a g a i n                                      --only maybe without him having to work the following morning.

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                                     One drag of the freshly lit cigarette and he groaned at the                                      mention of making the walk of the s h a m e into that hell hole at                                      9:00 o’clock. “Probably.” { a.k.a. yes because how else would                                      he get there? }

but right now it was late in the morning and he was t i r e d; he wanted to sleep and the cancer stick wasn’t helping; this stupid fucking idiot giving him that l o o k was keeping him on some sort of weird, wanting edge that he’d stall to admit. Instead, he’d settle for handing off the cigarette—{ because this wasn’t his house and there wasn’t an ash tray nearby }—and burrowing back beneath the finely woven sheets in all their softness and warmth.

He could almost find it in himself the right amount of comfort to maybe nap… 

#sevendeadlysinbad#because i couldn't help myself#modern!au
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theimmortalblacksun asked:

"Flashback" and "Reminisce"

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a memory my muse holds dear

--it had been the first time he understood what it was that could s a t e those nightmares; what it was that could fend them off and grant him a peaceful sleep. Little had he expected it to be the warmth of another body, of another living, b r e a t h i n g thing that was human.

Kouha had few protests when it came to holding hands; or sharing fresh fruit; or even napping together in the Spring weather, beneath this particular tree in the gardens. So when the child magi climbed into his bed one evening after suffering from a particularly h o r r i b l e nightmare with tear-stained cheeks—he expected those arms to curl around him, and to hold him and coo him and tell it was ok and nothing would hurt him. 

a memory my muse would rather forget

It burned; the pain was like fire setting his skin and body and blood aflame and it wouldn’t stop. T h e y wouldn’t stop and t h i s was his curse, his h e l l and eternity was no longer his friend; fate had spat at his feet and bid him farewell.

                                                                                                           --what had he done?

Was there a way to stop it aside from screaming and crying and absolutely b e g g i n g them to please, oh please STOP;

                                                           but nothing freed his tiny hands; no one came to make the monsters go away and nothing would ever cure him of those voices murmuring in his ear, and those veiled faces hiding cruel eyes staring down at him as one sin after another was dealt; one cruelty; one twist in that little brain over and over and over and over,

                                                                      h e l p.

#.answers;#probably triggering in some way???#tw: abuse#of some sort#i don't usually tag triggers BUT IF THIS SHIT BOTHERS YOU OR ANYONE LET ME KNOW#sorry it took so long and it's so short#i'm catching up :'D#theimmortalblacksun
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emperorofkou asked:

Hey there

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SEND “HEY THERE” TO PIN MY CHARACTER AGAINST THE WALL AND KISS THEM

Needless to say, it had been a little l e s s than expected--but depravity will do exciting things to a person; and if that includes twisting their sexuality, well... he could only c o m p l a i n if the Prince failed to please him.

“It’s good to see you’re getting bold—but I’m going to have to  teach you how to do that p r o p e r l y.”        { --before he completely pushed him off and swayed down the palace halls. }

#.answers;#i don't know i hope this was ok pffff#wielderofzagan
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joseiten--moved-deactivated2017 asked:

«

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« a past memory with our muses

He remembered the day the halls of the Al-Thamen bid him farewell—atleast the enclosure itself; the suffocation of being trapped like an animal; the t o r t u r e. But little did he know in his tiny mind--still learning the concept of how to understand more than simply what he was told and trained to know—that it was not to be silenced, but only inhabited elsewhere; a new environment in which he was meant to serve as a gift to the Emperor and his wife.

                                                     --& and her eyes were so f a m i l i a r; the cruelty sugarcoated by exaggerations of love and kindness and they looked at him; they k n e w and they sent quakes down his child’s body, fear rushing to his heart and little did he know—little did he g r a s p this was only the beginning of his fall into depravity; that fear was his maker and that fear would evolve into hatred and n a r c i s s i s m and a deep, unadulterated lustfor chaos.

#.answers;#sorry it's so short#i hope it's ok u v u#empressofkou
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bxiying-deactivated20160712 asked:

✄ your muse injures my muse

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R e d mimicked the almost crazed look in his eyes; the blindness of a b e a s t, of a creature stumbling further from sanity, his eyes clouded by the panicked rukh. They were buzzing, frenzied and swarming his fragility, clustering in this unbelievable shadowed mass and he could barely s e e her, crumpled and holding her shoulder as the downpour washed the blood further down her gown, staining d e e p e r into  the fine threads and—like dye—discoloring the pool building in the earth from mother nature’s cleansing.

He had never snapped; he had never gone so far and that w i t c h was going to make him pay. Her lacking love for the royal daughter before him meant little—but her pet had disobeyed; he had tipped himself over the edge and lost that little bit of control and only gods know what the First Prince himself would do.

                                                                  --Judal was a rabid d o g; his senses were damaged and he was dangerous and Hakuei was still standing there in confusion, giving him the torturous time to u n d e r s t a n d what he had done and he screamed; he screamed because he didn’t know what else to do, because he wanted to run but he couldn’t e s c a p e.

Trapped—like a wild animal he was c a g e d and he Ithnan was simply a remnant in the pack of white rukh that cluttered this world and poisoned it.                                                                    & he wasn’t here, and he wouldn’t be and the                                                                      oracle was t e r r i f i e d.

#.answers;#hi i'm sorry this actually hurt#i didn't mean it#it just kind of happened#oops#bxiying
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sevendeadlysinbad-blog
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bemamar

Sentence Meme: Send one for my muse’s reaction NSFW

  • "Ah! Slower… I want it to last."
  • "Can you really just walk away from this? Maybe I’ve miscalculated this lingerie’s power after all."
  • "Come on, let’s do it all over again. Slower this time. I wanna feel you twitch/squirm."
  • "Do you like it? How much would you like it off of me?"
  • "Do you think there’s such thing as too much sex?"
  • "Do you think they heard us? Maybe we should give it a second round. Louder this time, just to be sure."
  • "Do you wanna call him/her? Maybe we could all have a little party together."
  • "Do you wanna cum? Ask me nicely."
  • "Don’t be gentle. I need all of it."
  • "Easy boy/girl. We have time."
  • "Fuck me. Fuck me like I do her/him."
  • "He/she doesn’t have to know."
  • "How much do you care about the safety of your desk?"
  • "I don’t care about your sob story. I just want your dick."
  • "I don’t care if they watch."
  • "I like your toys. Can I have them in me?”
  • "I might be straight but no one can overlook that ass."
  • "I’ll pay you anything, if you just give me one night."
  • "I’m a bad girl/boy. So treat me like one."
  • "I’ve agreed to be your roommate, not your booty call."
  • "I’ve had the worst day of my life and you fucking me/fucking you till we can’t walk straight is the only thing that’s gonna make it better.”
  • "I’ve waited so long for this. It’s even better than I imagined. You’re even better.”
  • "If I fucked you, would you leave me alone?"
  • "If I get on my knees and pray, will you absolve me?"
  • "If I’d known being with another girl/boy would be this fun I’d have started much sooner."
  • "If you call me by his/her name, we’re done here."
  • "If you just get in me right now you can even walk me on a leash later for all I care.”
  • "If you want me to keep quiet, don’t make me have to tell you to go faster."
  • "If you pull out, I swear I’m fucking killing you."
  • "Just close your eyes. Imagine I’m him/her. It couldn’t be hard. We are brothers/sisters after all."
  • "Just hold my hand if I trash. Don’t stop."
  • "Let’s pretend I’m in heat. Just fuck me till I drop."
  • "Oh, you’re not getting anywhere near there. Not tonight."
  • "Oh no, you’re not sleeping. Not now. Sex first. Sleep later."
  • "Please don’t take your mouth from there."
  • "Pool sex was the worst idea we’ve ever had. Now fuck me right. I can’t do this soft thing."
  • "Shut up, let’s sleep. You can do your walk of shame later."
  • "So you’re at work, you’ve got bathrooms there too, don’t you?"
  • "That was… Wow."
  • "They’re amazing. I could suck on them forever."
  • "Was this what you wanted? Well you can collect it now."
  • "What if we get caught? I don’t care, do you?"
  • "You won’t get another shot at this. So make it good."
  • "You. Strip. Now."
  • "Your fingers are almost as good as your mouth.”
  • "You’re so big I think you might break me. I can’t wait."
#.prompts;#.queueing into depravity;
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; to everyone i owe replies and starters to i will get to them eventually

i'm just still catching up with myself tbh

and i'm going out of town for the holidays this weekend so

#;outofrukh;
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red-supremacy asked:

❊ ✢ ✣ ✦ ✪

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❊ I want to roleplay with you

✢ I like your characters

✣ I like the way you express your muse(s)

✦ I like seeing you on my dash

✪ You seem like a cool person

; o mg yes good lets roleplay ur kouha is presh and i rEALLY LIKE SEEING YOU ON MY DASH TOO STAHP

i'm an ok person tho i mean i'm not really that cool tbh 8'D

but ty so much i mean i try rlly hard to express judal well and i hope i do him justice ; v ; ur kouha is gr8 tho and i rlly do enjoy him~

#.answers;#ur perf shhhhh#red-supremacy
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sevendeadlysinbad-blog

The Morning After Sentence Starters

"Get out, get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Why are you in my bed?"
"I'd offer you breakfast, but I think I'm too sore to move."
"So.. Was it good?"
"Who topped?"
"I thought you'd be gone by the time I woke up..."
"I should go."
"This didn't mean anything."
"We shouldn't have done this..."
"Of course I'm freaking out! You're my friend!"
"I'm guessing this was a one time thing?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know how this goes. I'll grab my clothes and get out of here."
"Good morning, hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt.."
"I made you coffee, did you want some Aspirin?"
"This stays between us."
"Congratulations. You actually convinced me to sleep with you."
"Are you sneaking out on me?"
"So, how much for last night?"
"Holy shit! she's on her way over here right now, she/he CANNOT see you!"
"Don't answer it!"
"Do you have any idea how wrong this was?"
"We're cheaters. We're horrible people. Oh god my mother would be so ashamed of me right now."
"..Do you wanna do this again sometime, maybe?"
#.prompts;#.queueing into depravity;
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rxn-kouhaa -- modern!au

“Mhm... absolutely... yep—“ It was ridiculous how fucking b o r e d he was; it was even more ridiculous that the chattery bitch on the other line didn't even notice, despite the intentional monotone in his voice of just how much he didn't fucking care. Sales had never been an intended occupation--especially in this absurdly high-priced membership for some rich ass f u c k s who just wanted to get in shape for beach season. Oh, your card was declined? Boo-fucking-hoo.       Your membership card didn’t come into the mail? Call customer service.                    Stop yelling at me like I actually give a flying fuck.

                                                         Day-in and day-out the stupidity he dealt with typically had him crashing on his pillow after stealing a bottle from Ithnan’s kitchen stash—

Bastard. Stupid fucking Ithnan; threatening him with some bullshit suspension that applied to middle-schoolers—but if he were any sort of adult, he’d probably agree with his guardian. Housed and fed for free? He should be appreciative—but the agreement had been he’d get a job and pay for his luxuries. Who the fuck does that?

                                                                                        --oh, right, pissants for parents.

It took him a matter of three seconds after the customer had taken a breath before he disconnected the call—technical issues occur all the time. And besides, he needed a smoke; he couldn’t go for hours on end dealing with the shitstain that was humanity.

It was a drastic difference from when he worked at Starbucks, taking orders from college kids and that occasional asshole that swayed in like he owned the place. One too many accidental fuck-ups on o n e particular faggot’s coffee and you’re fired. What the hell was that about?

{                                    it wasn’t like the guy had any respect. he wore fucking chanel. }

Regardless, the days of fighting with cappuccino and hipsters & their scarves were over—now he just had to listen to some old fuck throw a bitchfit over his subscription.

Judal tossed his headset and shrugged on his coat, draping the knit scarf around his neck and finding solace in the chill outside;

                                                                                           And then his phone rang.

One job always followed him, even at his current job—it was jobception, and he had to keep his phone on his despite the policy to not do that. Thankfully he’d been out of the confines of cubicles when the mobile buzzed in his pocket. His job on the side was a little questionable; however, depending on who dialed his number, it could be a hell of a lot more entertaining than the hell hole he’d just walked out of.

                                                                     The youngster took one last drag of his cigarette before tapping answer—“Well, aren’t you just the right kind of surprise. Is there something I can help you with?“ The noticeable—almost sensual shift of his voice had him lazily stalking in the direction of his car. These calls were best kept in private, afterall.

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#rxn-kouhaa#rxnkouhaa#modern!au#judal works at a call center#and on the side as a sex hotline representative#don't fucking judge me#hinted at sevendeadlysinbads modern!verse oops#judal fucked up his coffee all the time#dealwithit#pompous bitch
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sevendeadlysinbad-blog

->right from the start. [closed.]

oracles-somnium

A storm had wracked the ocean for a week and now, well, now they were getting the much delayed shipments. Now, Sinbad was a king who made sure he kept his fingers in all the minor runnings of his country: it was not a rare thing to see him directing the movement of deliveries of various stocks as the ships from other countries docked at his island, his country that he had built. Well, with Yunan’s help, but he was g o n e n o w.

N o, there was a new magi that had taken up residence in Sindria, not that this was publicized. Well, no more than the fact that he was often seen sprawled on the palace grounds, his long black hair reflecting in the light like a raven’s wing, in the gardens in the sun rooms. By all accounts, this new magi wasn’t doing much. He was taking up space and draping himself over Sinbad when eyes weren’t prying upon them, and he’d raised a dungeon or two. But mostly he seemed to be the palace pet, though there was a certain amount of chagrin betwixt him and the former assassin who served as the adviser of the king—           ja’far never liked being called freckles, really—                                                                                    but today was shipment day, so very few were concerned about the layabout magi. His kingly clothes were shed and he was in simpler draped linens, marking down as boxes were carried down loading ramps: checking them off, stopping upon occasion to examine their contents, for only the best quality would do. There was a festival on the horizon, and he didn’t really want to serve the guests that would come near and far with spoiled food, would he? What kind of man would he be then? Certainly no upstanding king, t h a t was for sure.

Once pleased with the contents, he took the check list and tied up his long, plum hair, moving towards the palace. Gleefully aware of prying vermillion eyes that had watched all of this with a passive distance.

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**

He was standing in the grand dining hall now, watching as the boxes were moved in, sorted, carried to the kitchen. All the bushels and boxes of imported fruits and vegetables were lined up for inspection by the king himself (for not always was he so loftily unattainable for civic duties). There was the sound of boxes pried open as nails manufactured of other c o u n t r i e s gave way under the weight of prybars of hard steel.

Not all fruit grew in the lovely, topicality of Sindria. Pineapples, bananas, kiwi, and coconuts, naturally. Grapes had been introduced to concoct Sindrian wine, which the country would become well know. In these boxes were pears and apples (which grew on Sindria, b u t not in this season) and tomatos for the dishes that would be prepared, potatos (for Sindria’s soil was too dry for them to take root and grow to a decent size). Each were checked off the list by the young king as he took the inventory, examining the fruit in one had before placing it back down and moving on to the next. Fruit that should be soft was soft, firm was firm and everything seemed pass the test a he handed off the inventory scroll to one of his servants.

                       Then he came face to face with pale skin and red eyes.

                  And he smiled.

“Come to help, Judal?”

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oracles-somnium

The port had been sending in shipments for hours—it was already the afternoon, and that was probably the first time he’d seen Sinbad so actively awake and prepared.

                                              { and without the encouragement of his loyal vizier. }

He supposed with the c o l d e r seasons settling in across the seas, they were dispatching what they could to make their earnings in order to supply their own citizens by taking on the opposite role in trading. –in the Kou Empire, anyways, when winter rid them of the means to grow crops for a time, they would store what they could and sell the majority; during the frost, they would buy stock from their fellow civilizations where the goods were healthier and fresh.

                                                                     --following Koumei around from time-to-time, he’d picked up on the value of what it was to be the advisor  and care for most of the financial responsibilities. Not that he really cared, but knowledge was simply that.

It may have been what seemed like idle curiousity, but as he picked through some of the crates and tried to sneak a peek, his lips slowly formed into a notable pout; his nose scrunched, displeased as his body settled in the air, gliding aimlessly and tilting his head in confusion—had he missed something?

❝ Where’s the peaches? ❞ The fact that it wasn’t quite the season failed to register with him; certainly someplace, somewhere still had access to the plump fruit that he favored;

                                                                            But there was none in the boxes.                                                                  There was none and he was pouting.

“Sin—“ Crying over something so petty wasn’t like him—throwing a tantrum, perhaps, but… He just kind of looked at the king like he didn’t understand; like he was concerned because where the h e l l were his peaches?

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#sevendeadlysinbad#it doesn't amount to yours tbh#but here ya go#i tried#judal is sad#wheres the fucking peaches sin
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