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#ghost moves to put his mask on like a cat staring at its owner right before it knocks something off a shelf
ghcstao3 · 5 months
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obviously there’s no way of telling when soap is standing far across from ghost when he pulls off his mask in las almas, when the lighting is dim and shadows fall over simon’s face.
but it’s all too easy to tell when soap finally gets his chance up close, when ghost finally decides to fully trust soap with such a vulnerability as taking off his mask.
it takes a moment for soap to notice the little divots of scarring, but when he does—
“you had your eyebrow pierced?”
ghost blinks, obviously caught off guard. “maybe.”
“and—“ soap squints. “—your nose? and on your lip, is that—“
“i’m going to put the mask back on.” ghost begins to not-so subtly lean away.
“no, wait, simon, i just—“
he moves too fast for soap to stop him, and no matter how much soap pouts afterwards, ghost doesn’t so much as budge.
so much for earning that trust.
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quirklessidiot · 3 years
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Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)
Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.
Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.
lil dictionary: non-person-  usually what they called slaves during the heian era.
masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist 
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“That’s beautiful.”
Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.
“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”
“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”
“I’m Y/N.”
“And I don’t care.” 
“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”
“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke. 
“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”
“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”
The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”
You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.
“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”
“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”
“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”
“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”
He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.
“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”
He was silent for a moment.
That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.
“What?”
“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.
“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”
“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.
The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there. 
You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.
“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”
Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy. 
As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”
You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.
“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold. 
‘Don’t get involved-’
You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.
“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”
Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.
On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.
It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”
Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.
“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”
The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”
“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”
“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”
“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”
“This bitch-”
“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off,  “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”
You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now. 
“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after. 
Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.
For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.
It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.
You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”
“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.
Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”
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taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852​
@iguessimastannnow
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inceptionbigbang · 5 years
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The complete list of fics available for the Inception Big Bang 2019 is here!
Works are numbered, without the authors names to preserve the mystery. Artists, when you're ready to make your decision send us an email or a tumblr message with your top 3 choices. Fics will be claimed depending on availability, on a first come first served basis. 
On this round we will only assign one artist per fic. Artists that wish to claim a second fic, or that wish to work on a fic that has already been claimed should check out the second round, on July 2nd. All fics will be open for all.
Without further delay, here they are:
1. Arthur and Eames meet as trust fund teens in a Manhattan private school. Eames is a new student who's just moved from overseas, and him and Arthur hit it off immediately. Friendship turns to a whirlwind summer romance, until Eames is forced to move back to London. They meet again many years later when Arthur has to kidnap Eames for a job.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
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2. A songfic featuring Aubrey by Bread, studying Arthur and Eames and what their relationship might have been like before the Fischer job. The characters aren't going to resemble fanon (Arthur's closed-off persona and Eames's flirtiness). I'm going to try to expand more on what Nolan gave us during the movie (Arthur's straightforwardness and Eames's aloof/cold personality). Basically, Eames is distant and Arthur chases.
Arthur/Eames
Side: Dom/Mal
Teen and Up - Mature
Graphic Depictions of Violence*
* There might be a torture scene, but I'm still debating on whether or not I want that in the story.
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3. A fic about arthur and eames and their first meeting in the military to all their other meetings in the criminal underworld of dreamshare. not that long, i'm aiming for 2.5k or maybe 3k if i can. i wanted to focus on their totems and how eames could use forging as a totem (because if he can't forge then he must be awake, right?) but he has a totem just in case. and arthur has a totem (the die from the movie) that he uses a lot more except when he happens to be taken and tortured for some secret or another and the only thing that convinces his brain that he isn't dreaming is the way eames stands when arthur aims a gun at him? if that makes sense....
here's a little bit of what i have written so far:
he’s more surprised at the lack of surprise he feels when eames digs a poker chip out of his desk. its blood red with gold and white accents, worth five thousand dollars at the particular casino it came from, disregarding the fact that it was arthur’s shitty first and last attempt at a real world forge after he participated in a poker game eames held on base many years ago and realized half the chips in the set were fake, pocketing a one thousand dollar chip to use as a reference.
“our totems match,” eames murmurs, flipping the chip over his knuckles with a concentration a bit too intense for something he could do in his sleep (ha).
“match how?” he asks, sipping a glass of orange juice, freshly squeezed because eames wanted to use the electric juicer. he's tempted to pull out his die from his pocket and roll to see it land on five, even though he knows this isn’t a dream.
“i have something that you made, and you have something i made. also, there’s some significance with the number five.”
Arthur/Eames
Side: Dom/Mal
Mature
Graphic Depictions of Violence*
*I put the Graphic Depictions of Violence just to be safe but i think it's less than what's shown in the film? because it's supposed to be like an after-torture scene where arthur is like "ouch i'm super hurt and drugged and don't know if i'm dreaming" but again i don't think it's any more graphic than the film at least. might keep that tag just to be safe though idk
.
4. When dreamshare is first developed, no one has totems. They've always gone into dreams for short amounts of time and always with another person, so there's no chance of someone forgetting their reality. Mal's friend Pip has consistently been pushing the boundaries of dreaming, and one day she decides to go a later deeper without Mal. When Mal wakes up, she realizes that Pip is still asleep and she has to go down after her where she basically incepts Pip with the idea of totems.
Gen
General audiences
No content warnings apply
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5. There was a small lake behind Arthur's house. The following night, he sat at its edge and stared at the moon's reflection in the water.
See something you like?
Arthur turned. A man was sitting next to him.
"Hello," Arthur said. "Thank you for helping me get home last night."
The moon smiled. "How did you know it was me?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water, watching the waves ripple the reflection. "How can you be here and there at the same time?"
The moon leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. "Same way I can be in the lake and the sky at the same time."
Arthur frowned. "That's not the same thing. The lake's just reflecting the light from the moon. From you."
The moon turned to smile brightly at him. "Well aren't you a smart one, hm?" He leaned in and whispered, "I'm a reflection, too. We all are, at the end of the day."
Arthur thought about that. It didn't make sense, but that didn't mean it was wrong. He looked up at the moon in the sky, then at the moon sitting next to him.
"My name's Arthur," he offered. "What's your name?"
The moon looked at him strangely. "Eames. You can call me Eames."
"I'm going to be an astronaut, Eames," Arthur said. "Then I can come and visit you in the sky."
Eames smiled again. Arthur wouldn't have thought the moon liked to smile. "I would like that very much," Eames said. "Very much, indeed."
Arthur/Eames
General – Teen and Up
No content Warnings Apply
This fic is a canon AU and will ultimately include the events in Inception.
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6. Eames on vacation after inception and stumbling upon Arthur; floppy haired, tanned and just completely the opposite of how Eames has ever seen him before.
Hawaii looked good on him, no better than good...
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
7. It’s a follow up story to Cat Person.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040948
First story summary:
Arthur misses his cat and would very much like to get another. He gets Eames instead.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
Set in the Star Trek Universe
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8. This is an academia AU! Arthur is a struggling young professor trying to find his niche, Eames is the mysterious colleague he keeps (inadvisedly!) hooking up with at conferences.
Arthur/Eames
Mature
No content warnings apply
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9. When Eames first moved to America, he was at a loss for things to cook. He wasn’t used to the supermarkets and ingredients he needed were expensive. So he Googled food bloggers and found Arthur’s blog. The weekly updates keep Eames going in his boring office job. It takes him a few months before he gets the courage to comment but it’s all downhill from there. Eames is lost with Arthur’s sardonic commentary and when Arthur’s next recipe is one Eames requested, he knows he’s in bad.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
10. Arthur is a flight attendant. Eames is a passenger.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
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11. Haunted House AU. Arthur’s working at a popular horror maze escape place to make some extra money over the summer. It’s far from his dream job—making minimum wage crouching behind dark trap doors and chasing random couples and tourists—but at least he gets to vent his frustrations about his coworkers (who are, frankly, driving him insane day by day) by literally screaming at customers. Then there’s Eames, who finds haunted houses boring, overrated, and not the least bit frightening, but is willing to humor a friend (Ariadne?) by accompanying her. But an encounter (and some painfully obvious flirting) with the cute guy under the ghoul mask is enough to make him want to come back again, and again, and again—
FEATURING:
- Cobb as the owner/boss and the only guy who actually takes his job seriously. He probably squints a lot because sunlight genuinely hurts his eyes lmao - Mal as his wife, who used to be an actress but left to start a business with Dom. Super sweet and kind of protective of their employees. Plays the main ghost. She’s terrifying. - Yusuf doing their costumes and makeup!!!!
- Arthur getting the job in the first place because his screams are so full of rage (let! him! rest!)
- Eames blowing all his cash on haunted house admission fees so he can flirt with Arthur (who plays different roles on different days, maybe? but Eames can always recognize him, even under the masks/makeup)
- he’s not trying to be creepy, he just wants to ask if he can see him outside of work/get his number—but something always goes wrong before he can
- Arthur being frustrated because Eames is a) distracting, and b) not easily scared, which doesn’t look good for his job. And it annoys him because he has a track record of being able to freak out anyone. He takes it upon himself to make him scream at least once (I haven’t decided how he does, but he does, eventually. Eames probably jokes about screaming with something other than fear, but i am too babey to write any sexytimes)
- maybe??? mild h/c?? Dumbass Drunk College Students coming in all wanting to prove to their friends that they're the Alpha Male, picking a fight and being super violent/rowdy/destructive, + arthur getting hurt/generally kind of shaken up; that’s the first night he lets eames really talk to him outside of the job, maybe even lets him take him home (i dont know if im including this scene for sure but..perhaps)
- Ariadne getting them banned from the haunted house after reflexively slapping Arthur in the face with a rubber snake (Cobb takes the ‘no touching the actors’ rule seriously—especially after what happened^). Eames thinks he’s lost his chance for good, but Arthur finds him outside and finally makes the first move :)
Arthur/Eames
General – Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
.
12. Arthur is in love with Eames, and he's pretty sure Eames is at least interested in him back. Only problem? Arthur is ace, and not at all sure how Eames is going to react to that. But Arthur's going to talk to him about it, because the alternative is to lose even his friendship with the forger, and that's just not on.
Only the team is also determined to set the two of them up. Will that end up being a wrecking ball to Arthur's fragile attempts at making things work with Eames?
STORY OUTLINE:
Arthur is ace, and no one knows. When Eames invites Arthur to join him for Christmas, Arthur panics and says no - and spends the whole of Christmas regretting it. The team comes back from Christmas break, and everything is awkward. Arthur knows he has to say something or ruin his relationship with Eames forever, and he's going to do that at the New Year's party where Eames will hopefully be in a good enough
But unbeknownst to him, he's not the only one who's realized something needs to happen. Cobb, Ariadne and Yusuf agree that an intervention is in order. And when better to set their two friends up than at New Years? Get them kissing and surely the tension between them will resolve itself.
What could possibly go wrong?
At the New Year's party, Ariadne suggests playing a game of spin the bottle. Arthur is less than enthused, but Cobb and Yusuf both back up the idea. They play a few rounds before it lands on Eames, whom Ariadne dares to make out with Arthur.
There's an awkward beat before Eames moves to do it. Arthur reacts by freezing and shying away physically. Eames takes this a rejection and leaves the room. Arthur sits there, frozen, and then leaves too.
He goes to the bathroom and breaks down, blaming himself for being so stupid and backwards. Eames hears him, and comes in and comforts him. Once Eames realizes what the problem is - that Arthur is ace - he promises Arthur that it doesn't matter to him, he just wants to be close to him. Cue happy end credits.
Arthur/Eames
General
No content warnings apply
.
13. Arthur learned a long time ago that he was special, and no else could see the strings.
Or, ‘everything is still the same, but Arthur can see Red Strings of Fate’ AU.
There are moments when Arthur thinks he needs to tell Eames about the strings. Owes him the truth, he thinks, Eames deserves to know. Other times – well.
Eames knows enough, and he has secrets of his own. Arthur is allowed this one.
Maybe someday it will come up on Sunday brunch, or something.
“Oh yeah, by the way, I can see red strings that I’m pretty sure are tied up to being literal soulmates and we have one. Get it? Tied up hehe. Anyway, no pressure or anything. Love the sex.”
Yeah, Arthur, that would go lovely.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
Ok folks, the next fics are or may eventually get explicit. Minors, we love you guys! Stay safe. Don’t claim them.
.
14. Arthur has a goldfish which, long story short, he has convinced himself he only needs to keep alive to prove he is not a hot mess. Except now it’s not looking so good and has a weird sore on its side and he doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just let it DIE. So he takes it to the vet and is scoffed at and told it is a feeder goldfish, they cost less than a dollar, just get a new one.
Two vets later and he’s at the end of his rope when he meets Dr Eames, whose dog is introduced as his PA and goes on all his rounds with him. Dr Eames doesn’t even question it, just starts the exam and tells Arthur to pet the dog and start at the beginning while he works.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature - Explicit
No Content warnings apply*
* Discussions of parental death.
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15. Eames is working with Arthur the first time in a long while, only now it seems that he has a huge crush on Arthur. He doesn't know how else to get rid of the crush and he really can't concentrate on the job when he's thinking about Arthur all the time, so he asks Arthur to have sex with him, to get the crush out of his system. Arthur agrees surprisingly easily and sex is great, but afterwards Arthur doesn't seem happy and Eames' crush is worse than ever. The more Eames tries to get rid of his crush, the more it sticks, and the less Arthur is talking to him. After the job, Eames has some time to think and he realises that maybe neither of them really wanted for him to get over Arthur. He goes to see Arthur to talk to him about it, but they end up kissing and stuff as well.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply
.
16. Summary: Eames hasn't seen Arthur in almost four years.
Pseudo- Winter Soldier AU.
--
There's no response from Arthur, no recognition in his eyes. No banter, no teasing – a coldness that would leave any lesser man with severe frostbite.
"... Arthur?" The words sound so raw, so gutted in Eames’ mouth. "Are you-" are you alive? Are you dead? Am I dreaming?
He reaches for his poker chip.
But before he can trace the ridges for the familiar grooves, a shot rings out loud like a crack of lightning.
And the last thing that Eames sees is Arthur and how he always remembers him: in his whip-black suit and a smoking gun in his hand.
Bang.
A single bullet tears through Eames' temples, and he is ripped open, pain lighting every nerve in his body like a pinball machine – and he prays to god that this is merely a dream so he can finally wake up.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply
.
17. “Taxiing an injured delivery boy around the neighbourhood to help him complete his remaining orders had not been a contender on Eames’ list of potential scenarios for the night. Instead of the morose teenager bleeding onto the synthetic leather of the passenger seat, and the short stack of pizza boxes sliding to and fro across the backseat, the Brit had rather imagined his rental car would serve far more nefarious purposes tonight." -- Essentially, Pizza Delivery Porn Guy Crack A/E AU. Aim: comedic tone with bowchikkawowow.
*Arthur isn't the teenager. He is a customer who ordered pizza.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*There is mention of a traffic accident - no detail, but it might not be someone's cup of tea. Also, not yet at the sexual scene so don't know whether I'll stop at M or go to E.
.
18. In the court of the vampire supreme Saito, ambitious human noblemen Eames and Arthur battle for the coveted position of favorite bestower. Winner takes life everlasting.
Arthur/Saito
Side: Arthur/Eames
Arthur/Dom Cobb
Eames/Saito
Explicit
Graphic Depictions of Violence
Bloodplay, Extreme Sadomasochism. Possible Necrophilia
.
19. Arthur is an undercover narcotics officer posing as a high school senior. Eames is his teacher, who is taken with Arthur and who feels terrible for lusting after a student. Arthur takes down the bad guys, saves Eames' life, then they smash (after Eames finds out he's a fully grown adult person).
Arthur/Eames
Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*Eames is (shamefully) interested in Arthur, who he thinks is 18 and also his student.
.
20. Pre-movie: Dom and Mal are a dominant/dominant couple who want to find a sub they can play with together. Arthur is interested in trying to fill that role.
Arthur/Dom Cobb/Mal Cobb
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*BDSM, bondage, dominance/submission, spanking/flogging, roleplay.
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unholyhelbig · 5 years
Note
Prompt: Chloe is a tattoo artist and Beca is the new owner of the flower shop next door. After an unexpected friendship between the two and both being interested for something more, Chloe couldn’t help but notice the purple hyancith tattoo Beca has. Not knowing the language of flowers, Chloe decides to ask Beca.
[A/N: Right, so maybe I’m totally thinking about making this into a real multi-chapter thing. I’ve just made a vow with myself that I’ll finish Camp Beaverbrook first. So… let me know what you think because I’m beyond in love with this prompt] 
The flowers were dead. That’s the first thing that caught Beca Mitchell’s eyes; their stems were a sickly grey. The green color had drained completely and left a white carcass behind in its wakes. Petals littered the counter.  They were once red like freshly drawn blood, a stark white that rattled into a pink-tipped form. Ghosts with no soul left to harvest.
She reached forward and palmed a petal. They sounded like deadened leaves under booted feet. The pad of her finger running evenly over it before it disintegrated into fine dust in her hand. She frowned at it.
Beca had a habit of looking for the flowers in any setting. They livened up the room or muted it depending on their own life span. Great designers would say that fresh set pieces could establish an atmosphere. Great florists would counter that it established good business.
She could feel the instant coolness of the room prickle goosebumps against her skin, even past the knitted grey sweater that hugged her frame expertly. She had been in interrogation rooms this cold before, but never a simple tattoo shop. The sound of needles buzzing against once clear skin echoed in her ears. Maybe this was a bad idea.
The room was painted a deep burgundy, a white crown molding so expertly untouched. There were paintings on the wall: close up black and white images of big cats in the wild and blank blades of grass. There was a wall of long stretched drawings in front of her. Too many for her to count. Generic images of dragons breathing fire and grim reapers wielding scythes.
Beca couldn’t’ help but admire the line work that went into them, the attention to detail and the way each picture had been meticulously drawn before being resized for human attention. She let her lips part and a lone breath tumble from them.
“Can I help you?”
She drew in a sharp breath at the edged voice. She had been so focused on the sheeted artwork that she hadn’t noticed the presence of another. A woman; stunning in a grunge type of way. A tight black t-shirt hugged her frame, showing off the expertly crafted tattoos that coated every inch of toned and exposed skin. Her blonde hair was tied back, a few strands falling into glowing green eyes. The open sign flicked a flash of red and blue periodically against her bored expression.
“If you want a tattoo you need to book an appointment with our receptionist. We don’t do walk-ins.”
“No,” Beca spoke evenly, the woman raising her eyebrow as she set her hand on the counter and tightened her stance, letting her fingers dance on the countertop. “I mean, I don’t want a tattoo. I just moved into the space next door and I think this is yours.”
She thrust out an envelope that was clearly marked The Crimson Door. It certainly wasn’t for her modest flower shop. She had mulled over the name a few times in her mind. The door to this place wasn’t even slathered in red, it was merely a foggy glass embossed in gold lettering. She decided not to bring it up.
“Oh, thank you.” The stranger took the envelope, softening in her abrasive stance. “We’ve talked to the post office so many times. They never seem to get it right.”
The woman let out a deep sigh and dropped the letter somewhere behind the desk that Beca didn’t’ stretch to see. She seemed to relax a bit, clearly having surprise visits from drunken patrons looking to get cheap ink more than once.
“That place used to be a Chinese restaurant, you know.” She continued, walking behind the counter as she leaned over the computer. Beca couldn’t see anything more than white reflected off forest irises. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that they left. Though, it’s unfortunate that we have to go across town for eggrolls now.”
“Yeah, it is.” Beca let a small scoff escape her lips. She wasn’t really sure what to say. It had been a hassle gutting the place. She remembered removing the grease trap from the back door, the way it stuck and clouded her lungs until she eventually hurled in the bushes that were adorned with beautiful yellow roses. “We’re quieter, I’m sure.”
“Smell better too.” She responded, straightening up as she clicked out of her program. “Well, welcome to the neighborhood. Just let us know if the music is too loud and try not to put your trash out before five on Thursdays.”
“Thank you, will do.”
Beca followed the girl’s movements for a moment more, she had clicked a black pen and was digging it into a yellow pad of post-it notes. Maybe it was Beca’s own name. A sly way to recall her if she had in fact, strayed to 4:59 on a Thursday evening. She took a few steps back before turning completely and walking into the chilling night air.
Their shops were the only two still casting pale rectangles against the sidewalk. Fairy lights were strung against trees for the impending winter, wreaths soon to follow in the coming months. Beca shoved her hands in her pockets and breathed out in a moment of peace for a moment.
Her place wasn’t so bad. They had gutted the Chinese décor and turned it into a simple shop with shelves built into white walls. They were lined with the freshest flowers daily- a back office gave her a break from the bustle of catering and funeral orders. It boasted a large window like a toy shop in the ’60s; embossed with gold lettering similar to the tattoo shop.
She was quick to flip the open sign to closed before the bell stopped chiming. It had been a quiet night. A Friday where people attended movies at the local theatre or the football game that took half of Hollyfield’s student population into its grasp.
“Was it scary in there? Oh my god, did you see that one woman covered in tattoos? I heard places like that are very cold. Did you need a coat?”
“Emily,” Beca breathed out evenly, shaking her head. Her assistant, her co-worker at that, was very excitable. She asked too many questions and had those beaming brown eyes that were impossible to say no to. Even now, when she glanced up from the book on the counter and hair fell lazily into her pouting stare. Her sleeves were pulled over her wrists and a pencil was tucked behind her ear. “Too many questions. I just brought over some mail.”
Of course, that didn’t’ exactly answer the question that Emily held at the tip of her tongue. Beca lifting an eyebrow as she pushed herself away from the door and walked over to the counter. She had had this place for a week and still never stood on the opposite side of the aptly painted counter.
“I did meet an interesting woman though. She was blonde. A lot of tattoos, obviously.”
“Yeah?” Emily’s cheeks heated up, her eyebrows rising. “What uh… what’d she say?”
The girl had run into some masked stranger when they were remolding. Emily was coated in white paint and was carrying a big gulp from the gas station down the street. She had recounted to Beca how she was leaning against the back of the brick and taking long drags of a cigarette. Emily stumbled over her words a bit before sighing and sulking back inside.
“Trash goes out on Thursday.”
Emily’s shoulders dropped as she let her head fall into her textbook. She dramatically stretched her arm out and groaned. “That’s all you found out about the love of my life? Beca, you were on an extraction mission.”
“No, I was on a drop off mission.”
She corrected, palming a bit of fabric on Emily’s arm before she lifted it briefly to stare at the text she was attempting to read. Psychology. It was too much for Beca, the actual schooling of it all. She commended Emily for wanting to further her education after high school- she was stronger than most.
Beca considered herself as doing well. She had run a flower van for two years before actually settling down in a space. It was a lot easier to push out orders for sweet sixteen’s when she was working out of a store and not the back of a truck with Emily strewn over the front seat. She spoke evenly, words muffled by her sweater.
“What was that, Em?”
“You’ve got to call back Lewis.” She picked up her head “He wants to cut some type of deal, you know.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. He left his number.”
Emily thrust out a sticky note that was her blue handwriting, so neat even though it was rushed. It had a ten-digit number written like she hadn’t known the area code from when she visited in the summers. She moved her pad against the sticky adhesive. “You know, the stranger next door uses the same type of post it’s?”
“She does?” Emily shot up, eyes widening “They’re yellow?”
“Yeah, Em. They’re yellow.”
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