#acme writes

[acmelxvr]

Take A Seat, Inquisitor

Pairing: Female Lavellan x Solas

Summary: Solas finds the Inquisitor in desperate need of some relaxation in the Winter Palace. And, well, he can provide.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, Drunk Sex, No Penetration Though, Thigh Riding, Praise, Dirty Talk, Ear Licking, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Biting, Premature Ejaculation, Mentions of Oral Sex

Word Count: 3,900

Notes: This is my first Solas fic so be gentle pls...I also posted it on AO3, you can read it there by clicking this link if you want :3

“And that’s how I ended up hunting wyverns in the Frostbacks with only two pairs of breeches!” All the nobles and Inquisition personnel in the small circle laugh at the lord’s story, some more forced than others. The ball at the Winter Palace wanes into the early hours of the morning now with no end in sight. Although drinks and food are still being served, the massive crowd has thinned into small packs of chattering lords and ladies who would dare not make the faux pas of leaving too early.

“I think I’m going to explore the library.” Lavellan murmurs to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen. The excuse is enough to dissuade the rest of the crowd from protesting the Inquisitor’s departure from the group, but her three advisors are unconvinced.

“Take me with you.” Cullen pleads through gritted teeth, smiling a bit too wide as he barely follows along to the conversation taking place. Josephine tuts at the Commander but simply nods at Lavellan. 

“Good idea. You might find some of the more intellectual attendees who would be interested in learning more about the Inquisition.” Josephine’s eyes twinkle at the possibilities, and the Inquisitor nods politely.

“Yes, I will most definitely be doing that.” She says flatly, causing Cullen to snort and this time earn a light kick from Leliana that could easily be passed as a stretch of the knee. As Lavellan begins to take her leave, the Spymaster grabs her arm and turns to speak over her shoulder to avoid any eavesdroppers.

“You did well tonight.” She starts. “You are a complete natural at The Game, despite the many forces working against you.” Lavellan smirks at the praise, knowing Leliana probably thought she would trip over her own two feet. “You’ve earned a respite, even just for a few hours before our work starts up again.” The last part she fully whispers, leaning in conspicuously. “For once, I will advise you to not listen to Josephine.” She smiles knowingly before dropping the Inquisitor’s arm. 

Lavellan chuckles. “You read my mind.” She takes small steps through the ballroom towards the vestibule, occasionally saying hello to people she passes. Her mind spins with the possibilities of her alliance with Empress Celene; what it means for the Inquisition, for the Dalish, for herself. The Inquisitor is still deep in thought when she looks up and realizes that her body seemed to auto-pilot her straight into the Grand Library. The guards that used to be stationed near the entrance have disappeared, gone hours ago once the threat against the Empress’s life was neutralized. She worries over this for a moment, before dropping her shoulders and taking a deep breath as she remembers Leliana’s words.

Her fingers trace over the many titles packed into the various shelves, some in languages Lavellan doesn’t even recognize. She smiles softly as she picks up a book by a professor in the Free Marches collecting Dalish songs and tales. She leans against a desk, facing away from the Grand Library entrance, while she flips through the pages and remembers a much simpler time. 

“I figured you’d be hiding in here.” The voice makes her jump, yelp, and drop the book at the same time. She quickly turns with her hand over her hidden dagger strapped to her thigh, only to sigh when Solas snorts with laughter. “The Inquisitor should not be so easily caught off guard.” He exclaims, the two flutes of champagne in each hand shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Yes, well, forgive me if it pleases you.” She snips, then grimaces when Solas raises his eyebrows slightly at her short tone. “I’m sorry. I had finally escaped from all those people out there…I guess I got a bit caught up in what I was reading.” Her explanation is jumbled, but Solas places the two drinks on the desk before waving her off.

“Do not apologize. I’m certain you’ve had a much busier night than I. I can leave, if you wish.” He points towards one glass as an offering. Lavellan nods gratefully before grabbing the thin spine of the delicate piece and holding it close to her chest.

“Please, stay.” She says. “You’re good company.” Solas smiles and shakes his head as another laugh escapes him. He heads towards the shelf Lavellan previously occupied, now examining the tomes himself.  With his back towards Lavellan, she can’t help but take in Solas’ form. He towers over her a bit and his broad shoulders also help distinguish Solas from the Dalish elves she’s used to. Even in the alienages, Solas stands out as…bigger.

Lavellan coughs, a flush climbing her cheeks as her mind wanders to more depraved thoughts about Solas’ body. Solas was certainly free with his verbal affections, but they had only just started engaging in physical affections recently. Even then, they had only kissed. Lavellan didn’t mind waiting, of course, but it felt as though every time it developed into something more that Solas pulled away. 

Solas clears his throat, bringing the Inquisitor out of her thoughts as though he has eyes on the back of his head and can see how she’s examining him. Or maybe being a mage with a speciality in the Fade lets him read minds. Lavellan’s eyes widen as the drink begins to take hold. Can Solas read minds? She thinks, half seriously. “Inquisitor?” Solas asks.

“Yes!” He turns to fully face her as he holds a book in his hand. “Yes, sorry. Long night.” She mutters, taking another sip. She can feel Solas’s gaze on her as she redirects her vision to a different corner of the room. The shadows dance along the wall as the various candles around the room burn low. There’s a moment of silence, as though Solas is deciding to address the tension in the room. 

“I asked whether you enjoyed your time in the Winter Palace tonight.” Solas leans against the bookshelf, a sly smile gracing his face. “The way you managed to navigate the nobility, the ballroom floor, and an assassination attempt was particularly stunning.” He swirls his beverage in one hand as he flips through his chosen book. Solas’ choice of words cause Lavellan to finally bring her attention back to him. She scrutinizes him for a moment, furrowing her brow as her eyes rake over his stature from head to toe. Finally, she smiles too.

“Solas, are you drunk?” She asks. She giggles as Solas opens his mouth to give a quick retort, but closes it when he realizes he doesn’t have one. He shakes his head in slight embarrassment and drops his eyes as the Inquisitor continues to quietly laugh. “I guess I need to catch up.” Lavellan murmurs as Solas regains his footing in the conversation.

“I will admit to partaking in more drinking than I usually allow myself. All the power, intrigue, danger, sex…” He notices how Lavellan crosses her legs when he pauses. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to go unnoticed for an evening. To engage in behavior that is unbecoming of me.” Lavellan shakes her head, alleviating his fears that she thinks less of him now. “You haven’t answered my original question.” He states, placing his book back on the shelf.

“Enjoyed is not the word I would use.” She pauses, thinking deeply on her answer. “I’m glad I was able to play The Game well enough. It was almost satisfying being able to talk circles around humans.” Solas nods ruefully, staying silent. “But I was on edge the entire time. Constantly waiting for something to go wrong. And when the Grand Duchess was dragged away…” She trails off. 

“Power can be suffocating, sometimes.” Solas finishes Lavellan’s thought. They’ve both finished their drinks at this point, the flush on Lavellan’s face indicating that she’s just as tipsy as Solas is. “There are times when a decision needs to be made. Even the correct choice is never an easy one.” Solas’s expression turns serious, and Lavellan cocks her head.

“So you think I made the right choice? Going with Empress Celene?” She asks. The candles in the Library have dimmed even further as the moon creeps higher above Halamshiral. Solas tilts his head back against the fine wooden shelf, crossing his arms and looking down at the Inquisitor.

“Is my praise necessary for you to feel at ease?” His question makes Lavellan laugh, a true laugh that comes from her stomach. It’s infectious to Solas, a smile creeping onto his face replacing the scowl he had moments before. “Briala and Celene could never have ruled together, and Gaspard is a disaster when it comes to court. In the Fade I’ve seen whole nations crumble because someone would rather force a compromise than make a real decision.” He moves towards Lavellan, all social grace completely lost, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You made a real decision, ma vhenan. They are never easy.” 

Lavellan looks up at Solas, who is only now an arm’s length away. “Ma vhenan?” She restates, teasing Solas now. “That is an odd way to pronounce ‘Inquisitor’, Solas.” Her hand creeps up to rest on top of Solas, the space between the two elves shrinking as he moves to grip her waist.

He rests his forehead against Lavellan’s, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb adoringly. “You looked breathtaking tonight. You were magnificent, awe-inspiring. You’ll forgive me if I drop your title. I couldn’t bear to hide how I feel for you any longer.” He pulls back momentarily to kiss the top of her head, one hand moving to the small of her back. She leans into his touch, and for some minutes the pair is silent, their embrace only betrayed by the soft skitters of someone passing through the hallway.

The trance is broken as Lavellan gives a soft push to Solas. “I should head back now. There are people probably looking for me.” She groans and rolls her shoulders, her muscles tensing back as she recalls what it feels like to have a dozen pairs of eyes on you at all times. She turns to leave, but Solas captures her arm.

“You’ve played your part for the night, vhenan.” Solas pulls Lavellan flush against him, her backside against his groin. Solas forgets his inhibitions as he pulls her collar back to plant a kiss on her neck, making Lavellan gasp. Another kiss and a roll of Solas’s hips makes her groan louder, planting her hands on the desk. “Relax with me. Forget your duty, even for a moment.” Solas’ words cause a small pit of guilt to form in his heart, but it retreats when Lavellan moans again. 

“Josephine would personally see to our executions if we were caught having sex in the Winter Palace.” Lavellan’s skin is practically lit on fire with every single one of Solas’s touches, his fingertips dancing down her waist. “And I think the Orlesian nobility would die from heart attacks if they found two naked elves here.” She turns to face Solas, who stops momentarily to grin wildly, showing his sharp canines.

“I haven’t said anything about being naked.” Their faces are inches apart, both of them breathing heavily as arousal sits heavy in their stomachs. “There are many things one can do to relax without being naked, if their imagination allows it.” Solas whispers in Lavellan’s ear. He pulls away and guides Lavellan to a plush couch in a dark corner, far from any immediate entrance into the library. Solas lets go of her hand and sits on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He leans back on the couch, throwing one arm over the velveteen, and pats his thigh, beckoning Lavellan to sit.

To sit on him.

Lavellan swallows as she takes the sight in. She’s imagined, dreamed of sex with Solas dozens of times, but this was something entirely new. Something she hadn’t even begun to consider, but was still enticing nonetheless. “Is this something you want?” She asks him.

“Yes.” Solas answers so quickly that Lavellan is taken aback. “Nothing would bring me more pleasure right now than to give you pleasure.” He holds out a hand for Lavellan to grab, and tugs her on top of him. “It is selfish of me to admit, but I do not kiss you the way I do solely for your benefit.” He rolls his thigh up causing Lavellan to cover her mouth as she moans. “I do it because I also enjoy it. No, enjoy is too simple of a word.” He turns his head to think while Lavellan grips his shoulders with both hands. “I relish it. Feeling you against me, with only some layers of clothing to separate us…Fenedhis, ma vhenan. You’ve undone me. I haven’t been this overcome with desire in a long time…You make it difficult to control myself.” He plants his hands on her hips. “Let me guide you. Let me show you what I mean. We can reckon with our indulgences in the morning.” 

Solas’ words have Lavellan dripping. she nods, and plants herself fully onto Solas’ thigh, moving her hands to Solas’ neck and jaw. He starts pushing her back and forth against his leg, adjusting the pressure by examining the way her face contorts just so. She moves to cover her eyes but Solas stops her. “You are so beautiful right now, vhenan. Do not think about how you might look, but focus on how you feel.” She obliges Solas and slowly drops her fingers back to his jaw. Solas notices how his words make her quicken the pace, if for a moment. “Ah, so you do need my praise to feel at ease. Very well.” 

Solas keeps one hand on Lavellan’s hips, and moves one to the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down so he can whisper to her. She gasps as he presses up into her, causing her to roll her hips on her own. Although she can’t see it, she knows Solas is smiling with pride right now. “Just like that, perfect. You are a natural at this, vhenan.” His lips move against her ear as she forms a rhythm, her moans forming a perfect harmony with Solas as he groans from the pressure building in his own sex. The slight push and pull causes him to rub against the smooth fabric, making him knit his brow in concentration to ensure he somehow doesn’t cum before she does. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this with someone else; and while he’s relieved himself plenty of times since meeting the Inquisitor, he didn’t allow himself to think their relationship would get this far.

Lavellan whines loudly when Solas grinds up against her clit, the wet patch on his thigh exciting him more than before. He pulls Lavellan so that way they’re face to face, and kisses her like it’s the first time. She heaves against him, pressing her chest against his to get a better angle. Solas groans, louder this time as Lavellan’s knee presses up against his erection. Like everything else about Solas, it’s somehow bigger than she expected. “If you keep stopping, Inquisitor, you will inflate my ego. And getting you into this position has made me prideful enough already.”

 He kisses her again, sloppily this time, the alcohol ignoring any expectations of how their first time together would go. Solas presses his tongue against Lavellan’s, his eyes rolling back at the vibration of her moans. He finds her chest with one of his palms, kneading her and finding a nipple with ease. She yelps when he pinches and rolls, her thighs beginning to shake. Lavellan’s pace has quickened to a point where her thighs burn, the strain of muscle mixing with her pleasure. She begins to chant his name, panting and whining when Solas lets go of her nipples and moves his hands to her backside, massaging Lavellan and gripping her with a strength she didn’t know he had. “Do you know how many times I’ve finished thinking of this exact situation? How I’ve dreamed of having you completely?” Lavellan shakes her head. “Thirty four times I’ve spilled myself over my own hand thinking of how beautiful you’d look like this. For the first time in my life, my dreams cannot compare to the real thing.”

Lavellan gains confidence through Solas’s words and leans forward, almost coming in for a kiss but at the last second, she moves past Solas’s lips. Instead, she focuses on his ears; she licks a long strip from his jawline to the tip of his ears, noticing how Solas shivers and making him wonder how the hell she figured that out. She laughs while still moaning and gasping for more. “I knew you were sensitive here. Had to be, because I noticed how you pulled away the first time we kissed when I went to grab you,” She moves her thumb just underneath the other ear, making Solas jump in shock and pleasure. “Here.” She finishes, returning her mouth to latch onto Solas’s helix. She licks a circle around the apex of his damned ears, running her tongue up and down the ridge before returning to his lips. “Imagine what else my mouth can do.” Her breath mixes with his as both of them pant, although Solas does close his eyes momentarily to see the picture she’s painted. 

Solas bites his lip, almost drawing blood by how close he’s come to cumming over himself. Both of them are sweating now, Lavellan’s pristine hair stuck to her forehead. “Fenedhis–” She presses her knee against Solas’ cock again as she moves her clit down onto him, “–Fuck–”, he groans loudly as her pace quickens and she begins to babble quietly in his ear. If someone had walked in on them, Solas was too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m going to–I think I’m gonna–” Solas nods approvingly while Lavellan’s release reaches its peak. Solas closes his eyes, tears forming in the corners as he pleads with himself to hold off for just a bit longer. In a final move of complete desperation and arousal, Solas latches onto Lavellan’s neck.

And bites.

Lavellan yelps and it’s what finally sends her over the edge. She cums on Solas’s thigh, stuttering and gripping onto him while he licks at the marks his teeth had left. Both of them are moaning, although Lavellan has the sense to cover her mouth. When she finally comes down from her orgasm, Solas leans back to examine his work. Lavellan looks down and breathlessly laughs. “I made a bit of a mess.” Is all she says, and Solas lifts her momentarily to examine her handiwork.

Solas’s thigh is so soaked that Lavellan’s juices had even begun to pool next to Solas in those final moments. He smiles softly and pats Lavellan approvingly. “It is an easy enough task to warm my hands and dry my clothes, as I have done before. Do not worry.” Lavellan moves to get up off of Solas and onto her knees in front of him, but he stops her. “As much as the thought entices me, and believe me when I say it does, I’ve stolen enough of your time tonight.” She crinkles her brow in confusion, and gestures towards Solas’s groin where his erection is clearly visible, and pre-cum has even started leaking through his trousers. 

“Ah.” He says, and while he does entertain the thought longer than he should have, he still shakes his head. “This was for you, not for me. And besides,” He stands up and kisses Lavellan. “I can’t imagine there won’t be more opportunities for me to catch up.” Lavellan snorts, giving another kiss to Solas before smoothing down her attire and hair. 

“How do I look?” She asked sarcastically.

“Magnificent.” Solas responds, moving closer to brush her hair with his fingertips. He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. She seems to be remembering something and laughs; Solas tilts his head in a silent question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse like that. I didn’t think ‘fuck’ was even in your vocabulary.” Solas’s cheeks flush red and he coughs in surprise.

“Yes, well…” He stammers underneath Lavellan’s stare. “You bring out a part in me I thought I put away long ago.” Solas smiles lightly. “And that part is inclined to curse, occasionally, when underneath a fascinating woman such as yourself.” This time, Solas is the one to let go. He nods towards the Library entrance, and Lavellan sighs before squeezing his hand and stepping quietly into the hallway. He waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before sitting down and throwing his head back against the couch. The late hour and sudden physical activity has him utterly spent.

The elf looks down, his cock practically bursting against his leg and begging to be taken care of. “I’m not that depraved.” He murmurs. Solas’s eyes close, and while he tries to think of more important matters, he can’t remove the image of Lavellan on top of him from his mind. The way she bounced on his lap, how her mouth felt against him, makes Solas bite his knuckles to hold back a moan. How she jittered when he marked her, claiming the Inquisitor all for himself as her neck bloomed with purple splotches from his sharp teeth and how quickly her release came from an action that felt as natural to Solas as blinking. Solas breathes in, then out through his nose, attempting to bring himself back to reality, but he can’t help but recall the offer she left on the table before Lavellan took her leave. Her lips would look so pretty wrapped around him, gagging and moaning as she would try to take him all the way, his tip hitting the back of her throat—

Solas jolts suddenly as his orgasm hits him like a slap against the face, the dark stain of cum now spreading down his thigh. Solas bites down hard on his palm, unable to fully hold his voice back as the smallest movement against his trousers prolongs his release even further. When the immense pleasure finally subsides, Solas opens one eye hesitantly to assess the damage. He groans into his hands, a conjured flame able to dry his clothes but not the Orlesian, and definitely expensive, couch.

It’s hours later when the morning sun rises over Halamshiral that the Inquisition takes their leave. Solas blearily rubs his eyes and yawns, although when he catches Lavellan’s smile he can’t help but reciprocate despite his weariness. The Iron Bull looks between the pair before laughing and slapping Solas on the shoulder. “Sleep well?” He asks simply, although Solas knows the Bull well enough to know that his questions are never simple.

“No, I had a long night.” Solas quips, eager to head back to Skyhold and be as far away from the Winter Palace as possible. The unspoken part being that he is more eager to finish what he started mere hours before.

“Yeah? Spend some time cleaning in the library?” The Iron Bull asks, looking at the way Solas and the Inquisitor blanche before guffawing loudly. As he walks away he shakes his head. “You guys are not fucking subtle.” 

[nocturnalhe]

mini carmen sketch just because i wanted to say. i still think it’s crazy the last episode she didn’t have a full breakdown and cried just a little bit like carmen plssss ur life traumatic to the max BREAK DOWN OR SOMETHING that’s why i wrote it 👅 fic link under the cut

I DONT KNOW IF I LIKE IT, i think my writing skills are lacking because i don’t do it a lot and also i wrote it in one sitting and i just fixed up some shiza today before i kicked it out the door, I JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS ASPECT OUT OF MY HEAAD !!!! if u read it let me know ….👅

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Let's hope they all break out!

[mattpresents]

[youraveragecatastrophe]

[Image description : the "who would win" meme. The left side says "a high tech supersecret detective agency with hundreds of agents" on top of a screenshot of ACME's headquarters. The right side says "one teenager with a computer" on top of a screenshot of Player with sunglasses on and a soundboard. /End description]

[ashleyishere24]

Best joke of the year right here

[rata-novus]

okay now that the coyote vs acme plot has leaked (~~allegedly~~) i'm even more adamant in my wish for someone to leak the damn movie already. it sounds genuinely good?????? recognizable characters, a believable (in-universe) plot, and a heartwarming wrap up. im so mad lmao

[kairithemang0]

I’m in physical pain save me

[teamr3dofficial]

Just a drabble at the top of my mind

“Red, are you there?” A voice chimed in the earpiece she wore. Connection was finally back as she sighed in relief, herself being separated from her team for far too long, as while she was fleeing, Zack and Ivy were still waiting for her, which was the plan, until VILE decided they had no more patience for her little cat-and-mouse game they were always playing.

Heels clacking against the rooftops of households, her breathing got heavier steadily, she’s been running for a very long time, with Tigress still hot on her tail, and two more operatives she hadn’t bothered introducing herself to, though they already knew who she was. How could they not? Brunt’s “mama bear” rants were infamously known throughout the island, as well as Maelstrom’s schemes and Cleo’s complaints about her. Only Bellum had seemed to be silent about her, though she still despised the scarlet thief.

“Player, good that you’re here. I have three operatives chasing me. What’s the best rout-” She started, only to be cut off.

“Sharp right, now.” Player instructed, and she followed without a second thought.

The quick and unexpected turn left the two newbies skidding to a halt, before colliding into each other, leaving Tigress to be the only chaser. What can I say? Tigress is good at her job, VILE made a good choice in accepting her.

“Carmen Sandiego.” The tiger lady growled, in a dangerously low voice.

“That’s my name,” The woman in red shot back, more smugly than she should have been.

Whatever it took to get on the tiger’s nerves, am I right?

Wrong. Karma for Carmen, ACME had also decided to join in on the fun. Just wonderful, no, no. Really lovely. Maybe it did serve her right.

As of right now, she may or may not have been running out of roof to run, with ACME aware of her location, and VILE on her tail, this was a little risky, but she still trusted Player.

“Where now?” She quickly asked.

“See that gap between the rooftops? Jump over it.” Player responded.

Gradually, she gained speed, as well as momentum, as she did a jump dive to the other side, it being incredibly risky and with just a mere split second, she dodged the smoke guns that ACME fired at her from the gap, it being too close a call.

The dangers of being “La Femme Rouge”, I guess.

But they were going to need way more than just that to catch her, or they may as well give up.

[the-thought-emporium-imperial]

Really should be a legal caveat that if you want to write a movie off as a tax break you should have to release it to the public for free. Getting to hold onto it makes it an asset, right? You still have the footage somewhere, I mean, you can't just SAY you made a movie and not have proof of its existence, that's fraud. Could they dispose of it afterwards? Probably. I don't know if you need to hold onto it for future legal disputes or not, but fuck does this shit sound like the biggest of scams.

[catfoxposts-blog]

In the wake of COYOTE VS ACME I'm reminded of how much news of Warner doing this is drowning out info of other films written off for Taxes. I wanted to know to see how it compared to how Warner's doing it know but there isn't much I could find that gives an direct answer. The only 2 other's I could really find were Corpse eaters (1974) and A woman of the Sea (1926). There pretty much the only non Warner bros films I can find reliable info to back them up. I'm sure it happened & it wasn't as public as today but I'm shocked how little info I could find before 2022.

[constellies]

more writing, but no title for this one ! same vibe as winnower/gardener, sometime after the events of tarot's plotline

Acme's steps leave flowers in her wake, they burst through the hard earth in the underbelly of the Garden. She intrudes upon Stigma's grounds (although this too would count as hers.) She treads on ice and memory, her breath freezes in the air, the flora growing on her shivers and shrinks back.

"Stigma," the Gardener greets her sister, "What has kept you down here for so long? (Are you at least having fun?)"

Stigma does not answer, she is studying Kismet’s Secret. Picking apart their will the countless times she already has to make it into something she can wield. A spear of judgment, glorious and shining and raising a temple for itself. It is far more than the fragments Acme had glimpsed them as at first.

"Will you [please] take a break with me? (You need one. We all do.)" Stigma can hear the many smiles in her voice, trapped behind her words.

"...I will. Give me some time."

"As always."

Acme rolls a flower stem between two fingers. They are sheltered under the shade of trees and sat in the grass. It's begun to overrun her when she sits still for too long.

"Do you think you'll ever be friends? (I hope so...)" She asks.

Stigma knows who she's talking about. She stares at the flower, it's a red spider lilly.

"No. We're too different." Stigma's hands crawl with scales of ice and stolen memories and forbidden knowledge. It spreads down her arms under her sleeves, a pattern of self destruction. Acme has seen it too, and sees it again as Stigma takes the flower from her hands. The flowers wilts in her grasp.

They are watching a dead god swallow her whole.

"Why?" Acme tilts her head, a flower blooms on her cheek and she wipes away the blood. The green streaking through her hair is full of life.

Stigma frowns. "I don't know. Just a feeling I have."

"And you think it's right?"

"I've been right about a lot of things "

"As if that means you're right about everything,/It can be wrong, you know," Acme picks out the forget me nots from her palms. "Why don't you try? Talk to her more. (It never hurts to try.)"

Stigma pins her down in her gaze. The air grows cold. Acme stares back, the flowers are never-ending, blooming and growing and reaching out from each other like fractals.

"You really just don't like her, do you? (I can tell.)"

"Do you think we'd ever be friends?" Achmalier sits on one of the many walls in the Garden. She is untouched, not a single mark of the throne world on her. The scar on her neck is old and faint now.

"I don't know," Acme sits next to her and shrugs, the cloak of life clinging to her shoulders sheds an uncountable amount of flowers, "like us? We were never friends. (Never will be.)"

"Aren't you?" Achmalier questions.

"No, never were. …More like sisters (I think.)" Acme absent-mindedly answers her.

"I feel always a little distant."

She laughs. "That's because you hid from us/me for an eternity. Just spend time with her/us and wait. If you want to be friends, you'll have to go and find her first. (Because she won't. She's too busy.)"

Achmalier notes how ivy has begun to inch her way over to her, eager and reaching. She doesn't want to be part of this place, Acme already knows it.

"Is this what's left of Kismet?"

Achmalier stares up at Stigma's work, it's an alien thing down here, glowing and bright and full of the same cold that pushes away all else. It lights up the entire underground space in the Garden.

"It's all that I could find." Stigma's voice sounds distant despite standing next to her, like as if it was reaching Lier from across a hall (and that hall is across time, stretched and then pressed together.)

"And it's... safe?" She watches as Stigma strides across the threshold before following her.

"Safe as any artifact from a dead god can be. Now let me show you..."

Stigma stands before a decorated spear impaled into a pillar of ice, the final weapon of the god of fate. It is like both an anchor and beacon for unmoored time, and she spreads her arms wide. She opens the floodgates and reaches to a different time to tear it into theirs. A wound in reality is created before her eyes.

Achmalier is witnessing time bleed, and she does not like it.

Stigma turns on a heel and sees her fear.

She clasps her hands together. "This leads to one of Kismet’s dead timelines. Nothing will change with no one to hold their will. It's... something for us to study."

"For you to study," Achmalier rubs the sheath of her knife with a thumb, "don't you think we should leave a god dead? Leave their work lost to time, because their turn is up? We killed Kismet for a reason. I don't want any of them coming back."

"Apocryphal/heretic work in my garden... (Why don't you lay that thing to rest already?)"

Acme is a growing forest personified.

"We are not gods, Acme."

Stigma is like an ax.

"Then what are we, if we aren't born in a lord or mortal shape? Are we caught between like the Lord of Secrets from a roll of the dice? (Are we a chimera? Our own new shape?)"

Her sister grins. She grows faster, more prosperous, more resistant each time.

"What of Achmalier? (She's more human than either of us.)"

Stigma can't keep up, she never will. She feels roots dig into her. Around the verglas inscribed on her skin.

"I don't know."

[beatskylar]

A broken memory, is a knife to the heart. Part 3

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Who are you?” “And what are you doing here?”

Taking a deep breath in, Carmen slowly exhales as her eyes flutter open revealing that she is in a different room. The stiff bed she’s gotten used to is now gone, and as she begins to feel the tension in her back muscles, the awful bed is deeply missed. Both of her forearms, palms, and left cheek are pressed against cold metal, and as she slowly rises from her bent position, she begins to feel her muscles relax. “Never thought I would miss my bed back at the academy,” Carmen whispers as she rotates her shoulders and neck, but the crick in her neck refuses to leave, the pain and soreness a familiar sensation to her.

“Shadowsan! Shadowsan!” The young girl yells as she skips behind the master of stealth, who continues his walk to his classroom. Without verbally acknowledging her presents, the girl knows that he’s waiting and listing. His strides have become slower, a change was barely noticeable to passing by students but a clear sign for her. “Can you teach me that neck knockout thing?” Once she is close enough, she jumps to reach his neck, unable to lay a finger on her target.

“The pressure point pinch.” After another failed attempt, she stops her efforts knowing he’ll get mad if she decides to continue. Finally, after years of getting in trouble, Carmen knows how far she can push things before the faculty get angry with her. Coach Brunt, being the mama bear she is, doesn’t mind anything she does, even going out of her way to excuse the girl’s behavior as ‘Learning new skills.’ Professor Maelstrom and Dr. Bellum allowed six attempts, on their good days, before they become irritated and threaten to call the Cleaners on her. Countess Cleo gives her three tries, and on the fourth try, she forces the girl to take a ten-hour lecture on how to be a ‘Proper Lady’. Lastly, Shadowsan might allow two attempts before he starts grunting in disapproval.

“Yeah, that!” When he doesn’t utter another word, she continues before he returns to his normal pace. “Blackout betted I couldn’t knock him out and I am going to enjoy proving him wrong. At first, I thought of asking Boris and Vlad for help, but they only appear when I do something ‘wrong’ and/or ‘foolish’. Then I thought of using oil, but Professor Maelstrom banned me from the kitchen after, and I quote ‘covered the stairs leading to VILE in oil, causing Cookie Brooker and several other operatives to fall and hit their heads’… Which I am innocent of doing, I swear it was Neal the Eel, despite footage showing otherwise.”

“If I teach you, will you leave me alone?” In an instant, he completely stops in his tracks, which leads the girl to bump into his legs. A grunt escapes him, but she will not let him change his mind. Immediately she agrees to his demand, running around his legs so she is standing in front of him. “Alright. I will teach you when you wake up.”

“Wake up?” Before she could realize what he meant; the man leans down so they are at eye level as his right hand rested on her shoulder. In a swift motion, he quickly applies slight pressure to the muscles on her neck.

Lifting her right arm to massage her neck, Carmen feels it. The slight sting on her wrist as the metal cuff moves against her irritated skin. “Of course, they wouldn’t make it too easy for me, that wouldn’t be fun.” It doesn’t take her long to see the cuffs around her wrist aren’t standard police handcuffs. The metal link is longer than it should be, allowing enough room for her to stretch one arm at a time but making it difficult to fight at her fullest capability. There is no way she can pick the lock, considering she’s without any of her gadgets and there is no keyhole to even pick. In an instant, she understands that the cuffs are using a magnetic lock, and the only way she’s getting out is if she steals one of the blue coat’s keycards. No random idiot’s clearance level will work either, she’s going to need one of the bimbos that arrested her or the boss’s card.

The table Carmen is sitting at shows signs of being altered to keep her restrained. The metal bar, ensuring she remains stuck with the table, is a dark copper that stands out from the silver table. The bolts on either end of the pipe are hastily screwed into the table and pipe, the quick work leaving some space between the bar and screw head. Not a lot, but just enough for her to unscrew the screws. Running her left index finger over the end, the sharp metal begins tugging at her skin, with enough pressure and speed the pipe could cut skin.

Looking around the room, Carmen sees that she’s in a typical interrogation room. Two metal chairs on the other side of the table. One exit to her left that must be unlocked from the other side as there’s only a handle to pull the door open. Flickering lights hang above her, a slight hum the only sound she hears, as her eyes land on the two-way mirror, five feet away from her. Focusing on her reflection, Carmen leans forward being sure she moves both of her hands in front of the screws, effectively hiding them from view. As she tilts her head to the right, she discreetly tests how well the bolts are tightened. The hard part is to hide her thumb’s movements to avoid anyone on the other side of the mirror seeing what she is up to. When she feels both screws budge a little, only being able to do half a turn, Carmen knows that if she wants to escape, she first needs to remove the nuts from under the table.

There must be at least ten agents that can easily be taken care of, but Shadows will be a threat she needs to prepare for. The only thing that might stop the ex-faculty member from playing hero, is a hostage. The male agent, with the glasses, is going to put up a fight and he has already proven to have no regard for his safety or the safety of others. The female agent on the other hand barely put up a fight against Carmen, even going out of her way to tell the other agent not to hurt her.

Leaning backward till her back is pressed against the metal chair, Carmen sighs in relief. It’s going to take some doing but she’s going to be able to escape. All she needs to do is play her cards right and she’ll be walking back to VILE with the greatest price in the world, a bluecoat.

As she stares at her reflection, an image of herself without her signature red coat and fedora brings a shiver to her spine. A reminder of a time before she graduated from VILE, a reminder of a bright-eyed child that admired Shadowsan, and was attentive to every single word that came from his mouth. Carmen loathes that she tried so hard to make him proud, all those years before she even enrolled in VILE, spent trying and failing to prove herself. Everyone in the faculty had approved of her skills before she was able to walk, the only one who constantly refused to acknowledge her abilities was and still is Shadowsan. All of her accomplishments were undermined by him, whenever she bested an operative, he would state it was because she received help from Coach Brunt or she cheated.

“Black Sheep, you had better be certain that becoming a professional thief is what you truly desire, for if you choose this road there will be no turning back.”

“I want this more than anything Instructor Shadowsan, and I am willing to go to the end of the line.” As she bows to him, her posture remains firm and calm but her heart beats fast enough to fly out of her chest. She doesn’t want to show how badly she wants his approval, how even if the rest of the faculty tells her no, she’ll be ecstatic if he just for once approved. As she slowly rises in time to see the vote, her heart stops at the sight. Once again, the faculty approved of her, except Shadowsan. Her heart stops beating and falls to her feet as the ninja leaves, she wants to throw up at the feeling of being rejected again, for the millionth time.

The hiss of the metal door opening draws Carmen's eyes to the only exit as a pair walk in, one of them being the agent she tried to kill in the Ferris wheel. Neither are wearing suits, instead choosing to remain in their civilian disguises. The girl holds a single red laptop in her hands, setting it carefully on the table before taking a seat. The other agent takes a long time to sit down.

"I see you survived your little fall; I was starting to get a little worried I missed your funeral. Guess I won't need to pay my respects... yet." In an instance, both agents react to her comment, the female clenching her fist to calm down while the male agent looks away from Carmen, his eyes showing the fear of being reminded about his fall. Seeing she hit a nerve, Carmen innocently smiles at the two. As the three of them fall into silence, the girl uses the time to start up her computer while the boy stares at the oh-so-fascinating floor. Taking a small glance down, Carmen sees why the stained floors have the young agent’s attention. "Tell me, agent was your free fall the other day your first? Wasn't it exciting feeling the wind hitting you as you fell?" Carmen makes it a point to whistle a tune that starts off at a high pitch and quickly lowers, mimicking the sound effects as a cartoon character would fall.

The boy doesn’t have a great poker face, as he grimaces at her words, and she leans towards him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that the female has turned the laptop to point at Carmen, but her blue eyes focus on the male. “Just breathe bro-“

“Yes, just keep breathing, and breathing because-” Slowly moving her right hand under the table, Carmen begins the process of unscrewing the nut as she states. “I wonder how many breaths you’ll take before I take your last.” Her shell of a threat works, her eyes noticing him gulp as he leans away, almost causing him to fall onto the floor. Despite knowing she won’t be able to follow through with the threat if she wants to escape, it helps elevate Carmen’s situation. If they are going to keep her imprisoned, the least they could do is allow her to mentally break the agents.

“We might be friends, but I will not let you talk to him like that!” The female yells, slamming her left hand down next to Carmen’s. For a moment she stops unscrewing the nut as her brown eyes meet the agent’s eyes.

“We are not friends.”

“Yes, we are!” Sighing, the girl sits back and takes a deep breath before continuing. “We are more than friends, we are family-“

“Don’t make me laugh.” Out of the corner of her eye, Carmen sees the laptop turn on and she is immediately greeted by a young boy. He looks unsure as he stares at her, bags under his eyes yet he keeps them wide open. For several minutes no one says anything, no one even moves a muscle as everyone waits. Everyone is staring at her, and she hates it with a passion.

A thief isn’t supposed to be seen; she’s supposed to be like a ghost. Appear and then disappear.

“They’ve been calling you the crimson ghost, red.”

“Really? What an honor.”

Closing her eyes, Carmen forces the voices in her head out. She needs to stay focused, and she needs to get to work. Breathing in and then out, Carmen opens her eyes and begins unscrewing the nut again. Her left hand hid the bolt from the agent’s view.

“Red, do you remember me?” Carmen doesn’t reply, just letting her eyes linger on him. She has never seen him before, and she starts to wonder how long this agency has been after her. If they know anything about VILE. “My name is Player, and I’ve been- we’ve known- I’m your friend, best friend.” Her features remain still, not showing an ounce of emotion as she forces herself not to roll her eyes. No one at VILE had friends, especially the faculty. There were only the fellow thieves you could work with and the thieves you wish you could push off a cliff. And even though she got along with Crackle, Carmen still didn’t consider him a friend, because she knew if they were to ever be trapped, with law enforcement creeping in. She would throw him under the bus.

She can never be caught…. Unless it was worth it.

“I was there for your first caper when we meet Ivy and Zack,” Player stops for a minute, gesturing to the agents in the room, as they smile. It’s faint, and with one look from Carmen, Zack loses his smile as he shrinks into himself. “The four of us have been inseparable since then, and we’ve only gotten closer when Shadowsan joined us.”

A soft chuckle leaves Carmen’s mouth just as she was able to remove the nut and can feel the bolt come loose enough that she can yank it out of the table. Shifting her body to look at the young boy through the screen, she positions her left hand over the remaining bolt. Her right-hand repeats the process of removing the nut that is keeping her trapped. “You don’t say? Tell me ‘best friend’ what other grand adventures we’ve been on.” The young boy begins detailing events but with every twist of the nut, Carmen tunes him out until the nut drops in her waiting palm. Taking a deep breath, she leans her head back which makes the boy quit talking.

“Carmen?” The girl asks, but when they lock eyes, Carmen springs into action. Pulling the metal bar out, she leans back far enough to use her legs to push the metal table toward the two agents. The red-headed boy is just barely able to jump away from the table as the other agent’s back is smacked against the see-through glass and pinned there by the table. As she slowly makes her way to the terrified agent, she throws one of the nuts at the laptop screen, causing it to crack as the boy yells her name. The second nut she has makes immediate contact with the female’s forehead.

Before Carmen can get the chance to torture the agent in front of her, the door leading to her exit bursts open as more agents barge in. Looking over her shoulder she smiles as she sees Jules and the loudmouth agent are among the agents now aiming their weapons at her. “Carmen Sandiego, surrender or I will be forced to take you out,” A tall woman states in a commanding voice, and simply by her attire Carmen knows that she’s in charge. Slowly turning on her heels, Carmen raised her hands up, the metal bar being loosely held in her hand. “Drop the weapon.”

The second Carmen sees Shadowsan, she can tell that he’s able to anticipate her next move as he goes for his sword and yells. “Julia move!” Unlike in the past, this time she’s faster than her old mentor and gets to the agent in the blink of an eye. In a swift movement, Carmen is able to twist Julia’s arm behind her and press the metal bar to her neck.

As her now-captured agent yells in pain, everyone in the room takes a small step back. “Do as I say or say goodbye to Jules.” To ensure her threat is heard, Carmen pulls the bar down causing the agent’s skin to tear a little. A small cut, but enough to allow a few drops of blood out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[readmarkclippastecollage]

How did that get in there?

Well we right the policies.

But why?

To accommodate seasonal fashion.

What fashion? We’re coming to work naked!

No, no. The term is Natural. It is the antithesis of Fast Fashion. My girlfriend knows about these things.

Hmm, this does comply with the equality policy, and our green initiative. You just made our company an industry leader. But, “right”?

We write policy to right policy.

Get out now!

[kairithemang0]

god mood…

I’ve got like. 3 fics planned? They’re all aus I’ve gotta get back into writing regular saf though

and I’ve also got a ton of art stuff planned over the up coming week. Too much going on in my life and a decent chunk of it is just gay spies