theycalledmemalice

[theycalledmemalice]

things i owe everywhere

@theycalledmemalice ;; Alice ;; 20 drafts ;; 1 starter.

@tobreakmybones ;; Alyssa ;; 6 drafts.

@thearchitectoftime ;; Architect ;;  3 drafts ; 1 starter.

@moldedbythedark ;; Bane ;; 30 drafts ; 2 starters.

@impossoufflegirl ;; Clara ;; 20 drafts ;; 1 starter.

@typethirtyseven ; Daedalus ;; 15 drafts.

@doctorfrankensteiin ;; Victor ;; 0 drafts ;; 2 starters.

@typhoidandstarlings ;; Hannibal ;; 35 drafts ;; 2 starters.

@miisterhyde ;; Hyde ;; 8 drafts ;; 2 starters.

@wehaveonerule ;; Irisa ;; 16 drafts.

@crudelisetinsolita ;; Mulciber ;; 6 drafts.

@hercunning ;; Stahma ;; 10 drafts.

@tobxassnape ;; Tobias ;; 6 drafts.

@definitelynotapresident ;; Twelve ;; 19 drafts.

@brokenbeautifulbird ;; Petra ;; 66 drafts ;; 69 memes ;; 7 starters.

@claspasaintedmaiden ;; Pet ;; 16 drafts.

[theycalledmemalice]

FYI

Tumblr broke the tags (so you won’t get notifications when new things are in the tag), and the tags you’re tracking will now spit random posts from the tag onto your dash.

Xkit is working on it.

[theycalledmemalice]

bold any fears which apply to your muse. italicize what makes them uncomfortable.

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched.

#ABOUT: ALICE

[theycalledmemalice]

                             I’ve always known my right from WRONG                                      I just was born with a busted key                       And every time I tried to pick that lock, it seemed                The d e v i l was the only FRIEND who would help me                                      I wished I may, I wished I might                         But all my wishing only brought me G R I E F                  'Cause no matter how hard I’d fight it, my poor heart                         Only wants the things that are WORST for me

pawn shop.  |  pesky details.  |  realms.  |  make a deal.

[theycalledmemalice]

What are we made of but hunger and rage?

Anne Carson,  “To Compostela,” The Anthropology of Water, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry (via lifeinpoetry)

#RELEVANT

[theycalledmemalice]

So the question is, which of these do you guys think suits Alice better?  Kristen Stewart or Eliza Dushku?  (Read:  I’m sorting out Dollhouse screencaps anyways so, I’m considering a potential fc change to Eliza and then Olivia as an older version but, I’d like to hear what you guys think too!)

Bonus question: Which one would be a closer match to Olivia Williams as a potential older fc?

#mun things #please let me know

[theycalledmemalice]

If I cry in front of you, believe me, I reached my limit.

(via talece)

#RELEVANT

[theycalledmemalice]

It was a matter of pride, and it had little if anything to do with 'job satisfaction', that let her take such satisfaction in the small things: the small reactions of his body, the uncontrollable twitches of the flesh between her fingers, the unconscious hitches in his breath and the sudden increase in pace, the sudden erratic rhythm of the heartbeat trapped in his rib-cage beneath her.  She took pleasure in these things, for she knew them for what they were, unbidden reactions -- perhaps more so, in his circumstance, and it was the knowledge, stolen or otherwise, of his past that kept her gaze focused on him, that kept her focused, rapt attention paid to each shift of his body beneath and against her.  Even the smallest gesture, the quietest word would have stilled her hand, would have eased the gentle nuzzling of her head against his shoulder, her nose brushing against his jaw, and chin, her breath warming his throat.  

His voice wavers as her fingers ease against him, as gentle, knowing strokes stir him to life, slow throbs of blood tangible currents of energy against her palm and fingertips, and she conceals a half smile in the shadow of where their heads meet.  The hiss of a breath released teased against her skin, stirring a few loose strands of dark brown hair, and she allowed her head to tilt upwards as his quivering fingers catch her jaw and chin, and her tawny eyes met his easily, without hesitation or shame, fear or repulsion, merely... quiet curiosity, and a gentle, pervasive heat that teased against her skin at his touch.  A small smile played at the corners of her mouth at his hushed, husky confession, and she leaned lightly into the press of his lips against her temple.

She remained quiet, for the moment, giving him the time to breathe, to come to whatever conclusion that he seemed to be debating, but even still her fingers moved in easy, firm strokes against him, intent to provide whatever pleasure he would allow her to.  She had been with virgins, before, but she knew that this, with him, was not anything like what she might have dealt with before, just as she knew that a step in the wrong direction would set him back even further.  Trauma was not something that she was exactly unfamiliar with in her life, or in her line of work, but she knew, too, that it was not just his trauma that he carried.  A soft, drawn out hiss of her own escaped as he turned his mouth and teeth to her, catching and teasing against her earlobe.   "You're doing just fine," she murmured, with a half breathed, low laugh as she leaned into him, cheek to cheek.  

"But you don't have to," she murmured, her head tilting to brush a soft kiss against his jawline, and again to the throbbing, erratic vein that danced along his neck.  "You don't have to do anything, if you don't want to."  She leaned back, just a little, but not enough to separate where they were leaning into one another.  "You can just... enjoy this, as it is," she explained.  "Or, we can just see... where the night takes us," she added, softly.  "Or, this can all stop, and I can learn what happens to the Baskervilles," Alice said, each pause accentuated with a light, nuzzling kiss to his jaw, his throat, the last, lightly, to his lips.  "But personally," she spoke, her gaze drifting up to his, a smile again teasing against her mouth where it hovered near his.  "I think...  a bit of... anticipation, a good cliffhanger, it.... really just adds a certain... spark to a good story, don't you?"

Her weight in his arm, nestled against him, was comforting. His eyes were half lidded, weighed down with wine and warmth. It was peaceful beneath the blankets with her fingers trailing along his chest the way Pet’s might have. 

His heart, which always kept a more rapid pace than it likely should have when he was at rest, stuttered and began to beat more rapidly as her fingers traced his ribs and slid down along his flat abdomen to the waistband of his pants. Her delicate hand passed easily between pants and boxers and his thumb pressed more firmly into the spine of the book. The grogginess that had settled over him due to the wine and the full stomach vanished the moment her finger began to circle and press against him.

Nails dug into the leather cover of the old book and his words faltered, tripping from his lips into the air between him. His body went rigid and a tiny, sharp exhale burst between his teeth. This, too, was something that Petra might have tried if she were there, and just as he did when she tried to cross that invisible border into forbidden territory, he felt something dark waking within him, coiling tightly about his stomach, his lungs, crushing the breath from him. He swallowed hard and tried to push back the black feelings writhing beneath his bones. 

Knowing that he would not be able to concentrate on the pages any longer, he made mental note of the page number and closed the book. He balanced it on the back of the couch with his reading glasses resting on its cover.

His trembling hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing along her chin. Brows furrowing, he looked down at her with a tiny frown. “I’m… new at all of this.” His voice had lowered, become a little husky. Lips pressed against the woman’s forehead and his eyes closed a moment. 

“You’ll… have to tell me what to do… for you.” This was whispered into her ear before his teeth scraped the lobe and gave it a small tug. Releasing her ear, he nuzzled the place where shoulder and neck met and brushed his thumb more firmly along her shoulder and upper arm. His other hand hovered unsteadily by her jaw and chin.

 “Be gentle with me…”

#INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING #INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING: 001 #NSFW #VERSE: EVERYTHING FOR A PRICE AND A PRICE FOR EVERYTHING

[theycalledmemalice]

Reblog this if you have Skype, and you're willing to share it with the followers that ask for it.

[theycalledmemalice]

#(wants) #NSFW #FUCK ME LIKE YOU HATE ME

[theycalledmemalice]

Her form is long, toned at the stomach that was almost visible between the pulled fabric of the pajama shirt she wore as she nestled into the form of her employer host.  The air around them held a comfortable chill that made the air just crisp enough to be enticing, somehow, without bringing an all too familiar sting to her skin, and nestled beneath the thick quilt and in front of the fire in one of many studies, it is quite cozy.  Comfort -- warmth, in the winter, the satisfaction of a stomach full of curious and poignantly tasteful delicacies, the slow, comfortable burn of the rich red wine -- rarities, rather than the norm for her, and yet how quickly she had accepted them, how quickly she had allowed herself to be comfortable.  

She was not foolish enough to imagine it anything more than it was.  An indulgence, temporary on her part, the hired help, a paid companion to keep his anxious mind at ease during the time that he was divided from his other half, a replacement part.  But a very well paid one.  And while she was well aware that it would come to a quick and discreet end at the specific hour set out in their arrangement at the beginning of this session, that did not mean that she could not RELISH in it while the illusion existed.  She allowed her head to drift back against his bare chest, into his shoulder, his arms wrapped loosely around her, one offering gentle, languid touches against her arm, the other thumbing through the clearly ancient (in comparison to any book that she had ever seen before entering this particular estate) text that he was reading from.  

It was intriguing enough; she was familiar enough with the concept of Holmes and Moriarty, thanks to BBC, though she would definitely have bypassed either villain or hero in order to pursue the Woman, but she had never read the tales from which the movies and series had evolved.  It wasn't that she didn't read, or that she lacked education (she just didn't have muchin the way of a formal education and she didn't read much) but more times than not she was too busy staying one step ahead of the game to give much time to it.  She liked this story, the haunting of a family that struck her as not too different from the type that Gus had come from, but it was his voice that she liked most.  She had never met anyone who spoke exactly like him; firm and soft at the same time, his words lilting, and clear, so readily understood even through the comfortable haze of wine that dulled her senses just so.   

She turned, slightly, curling a little more onto her side, taking one last sip of her wine before setting the glass aside, her head resting back under his chin.  She could hear his heart beating, a comforting, if rapid surge beneath her, and she let her eyes sink half closed, her hand falling to rest against his chest.  Her fingers moved, idly, tracing a pattern from one side of his rib cage to the other as he read.  Her gaze turned up, briefly, as she let her fingers drift downwards, gauging his reaction as her fingers walked lazily along the slight crinkle of his stomach along the edge of his waistband.

Still, she let them wander, listening to the beat of his heart so close, enjoying the subtle shifts in it, in the pitch of his voice as her hand slid slowly, steadily beneath the elastic band of the flannel and the fabric beneath, brushing down along the slight bulge of flesh that rested snug beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.  Her fingers crept down its length, tracing a curved path back and forth and back up again before her hand cupped, curving around the faintly twitching flesh, her palm nestled lightly against the weight at the base even as her middle finger followed the circumfrence of the tip of him, and traced again down the center of the head, her fingertip pressing lightly against the small slit there as she stroked him, and she could not help but smile -- a little smile, just barely present, a smug smile as she felt him stir, and felt the tremble in his heartbeat beneath her and maybe, just maybe, it grew a fraction when he did not rebuke her or immediately thwart her attentions.  

@theycalledmemalice

They sit together on the plush couch.

He is leaned against a collection of small, square pillows with his legs half stretched over the cushions. She rests in the crook of his arm, half in his lap, with her legs between his and her bare toes lightly brushing over the back of his foot. Idly, his fingertips stroke her upper arm, thumb brushing her shoulder. His other hand holds a book, thumb pressed in the crease between pages. Reading glasses are perched at the end of his nose, making it easier to read the smaller text of the dusty first edition. He had been reading aloud to her, his voice a soft rumble in the otherwise quiet night. Outside, snow is falling. They are covered in quilts. He is wearing his flannel pajama pants and she is wearing the top, just as Petra would have if she were there instead.

Her head is resting against his shoulder and he absently places a kiss onto the top of her head in between spoken words. The fire is crackling in the massive hearth. His three dogs sleep together in a tangle of lean limbs, pointed snouts, and stubby, twitching tails on the rug in front of the fireplace. Somewhere in the depths of the house, snake coils are tightening and loosening; slick, dead mice are being swallowed whole.

The words of Doyle spill from his lips, stretching and lengthening as he yawns. He leans his head against the woman’s, his mind drifting back to the party where he met her.

It had been at some dreadful Halloween party that Petra had dragged him to. She wanted him as her date, had picked out a costume and everything, and with thick black sunglasses to shield his eyes and plugs in his ears to drown out the sound of wingbeats, she had their driver take them to the lobby of some massive hotel. There were so many people, most of them from one or both of their repective companies and from investors and the like. It had been torturous. He didn’t mind so much the costumes that she had chosen for them. A gothic amber gown for her and a dark suit for him coupled with a mask of feathers a hooked beak and a crown of twisted, tall horns.

He’d lasted through several dances and it was only when she had left him to talk business that he fled into Alice’s small booth. He’d dropped down without a word, panting, shaking, breathing hard, and she had talked to him. They had talked until his sister found him and pulled away and it was because of that conversation that he had asked after her and found that she did more than just fortune telling at parties.

And so, he had hired her to be his companion for the long weeks of Petra’s absence.

#INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING #INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING: 001 #VERSE: EVERYTHING FOR A PRICE AND A PRICE FOR EVERYTHING #NSFW

[theycalledmemalice]

Updated Hypnotism Starter Sentences

"Its okay, you won't have to worry anymore."

"My head feels weird..."

"You won't object to me again."

"Look at the spinner and focus."

"Don't you feel tired?"

"You can't control me with that, can you!?"

"Its okay, you'll make a wonderful puppet."

"Its so thrilling putting people in trances."

"You're such a beautiful slave."

"I won't listen to you."

"I'll make you listen."

"Its okay, pet, just sleep for now."

"You can't just try to hypnotize me!"

"Do you feel tired?"

"You're such the perfect pet."

"Don't worry, I'll make you obey me."

"You'll listen, whether you want to or not!"

#memes

[theycalledmemalice]

#*coughs* #INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING #NSFW

[theycalledmemalice]

                           I AM the League of Shadows, and I’m here to fulfill Ra’s al Ghul’s destiny!

                                                               written by penny; please read rules ! 

#self promo #for anyone that doesn't already know!

[theycalledmemalice]

#INTOTHATDARKNESSPEERING #NSFW

[theycalledmemalice]

themischiefunderyourbed:

“Beg for it.”

“I want to fuck you right now.”

“I’m going to make it hurt.”

“I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

“I’m your Master and you’ll do what I say.”

“It’s not going to fit!”

“I’m the only one that would ever fuck you.”

“Spread your legs for me.”

[text] What are you wearing?

“Get on your knees.”

“Did we fuck last night?”

“I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I think you need to be spanked.”

“You look good tied up.”

“Put on a show for me.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

[text] I didn’t mean to send those pictures!

“I think the condom broke.”

“You know you like when I tease you.”

“You’ve been a bad boy/girl.”

“We should try adding a third person.”

“You don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Wrong hole!”

“Bend over.”

“I’m never getting on my knees for you again.”

“You’re going to break me.”

“Fuck me.”

“You belong to me.”

“Harder.”

“Punish me.”

“I’m gonna cum!”

Smut Sentence Starters

#memes #nsfw memes #YES PLEASE

[theycalledmemalice]

Send one of the following or send ☠ and I'll use a random number generator to pick one of the following Mafia themed prompts. - some NSFW and possible triggers

Many contain possible triggers so please read the list carefully before sending a symbol. Possible triggers include torture, kidnapping, non-con/rape, human trafficking and murder/death. 

Hold your liquor: My muse gets your muse drunk (for whatever intentions they desire)

Pour me another: Your muse gets my muse drunk (for whatever intentions they desire)

Mole: My muse slips in your gang to gain information

Infiltrator: Your muse slips in my muse’s gang to gain information

Thud: My muse kills yours

Drop: Your muse kills mine

Unseen: My muse walks in on yours killing someone

Witness: Your muse walks in on mine killing someone

Informant: My muse sleeps with your muse for information or to catch them off guard for assassination

Betrayal: Your muse sleeps with my muse for information or to catch them off guard for assassination

The Boss: My muse is your mafia boss

Right-hand Man: My muse is working for yours

Seize: My muse is kidnapping yours  

Snatch: Your muse is kidnapping mine

Toy: My muse captures yours to be theirs or the gang’s ‘pet’

Doll: Your muse captures mine to be theirs or the gang’s ‘pet’

Break: My muse sexually tortures yours for information

Sing: Your muse sexually tortures mine for information

Run: My muse has broken out and is attempting to escape yours

Flee: You have escaped my muse’s clutches and you’re attempting to run

The horror: My muse is assaulted/tortured in front of yours as punishment

The agony: Your muse is assaulted/tortured in front of mine as punishment

Spare the Rod: My muse tortures yours for information

Sticks and Stones: Your muse tortures mine for information

Safe: My muse rescues yours from imprisonment

At Ease: Your muse rescues mine from imprisonment 

Proposition: My muse gives yours an offer/threat they can’t refuse

Proposal: Your muse gives mine an offer/threat they can’t refuse

Curiosity kills: My muse finds out your muse is in a dangerous powerful gang

Knows too much: Your muse finds out my muse is in a dangerous powerful gang

Unforgivable: My muse punishes yours for insubordination

Untolerated: Your muse punishes my muse for insubordination

Safeguard: My muse protects yours from a gang

Defend: Your muse protects mine from a gang

Don’t look: My muse is publicly humiliated by yours as an example and lesson 

Look away: Your muse is publicly humiliated by mine as an example and lesson 

The Winner: My muse buys yours at a underground black market and is at my muse’s mercy or bidding

High Roller: Your muse buys mine at a underground black market and is at your muse’s mercy or bidding

Till the end: Our muses die alongside each other in a gang brawl.

Clash: Our muses brawl for territory or whatever they desire

Heated: Our muses have angry sex after a brawl

Dangerous: Our muses cooperate for an assassination

Word on the street: Our muses meet to exchange information

Get lucky: Our muses sleep with each other but be careful

Russian Roulette: Our muses make a dangerous bet or gamble

Take a Pick: The mun chooses whichever they’d like

Wild Card: Specify an alternate scenario for the muses

#memes