#everything is arthur and eames

[coffeecupandcorgi]

[valerileygreen]

Been thinking about Arthur's state of mind after inception.

Of course at first he was elated, running the high of having pulled off the impossible and escaped with their lives and sanity intact.

And then the adrenaline wore down and he realized he was finally free to do anything he wanted, but after almost 2 years driven by a single purpose he didn't know what to do with that freedom. A huge chapter of his life had just ended and he felt directionless and empty with nothing to look forward to.

But then Eames was there. Eames who was a forger and knew perfectly well what it meant to lose your sense of self. Eames who knew him so well and could see he was coming apart and held him tight and close till it felt like all his pieces were glued back together and he felt like a whole person once again. And with Eames' help he got re-acquainted with himself, and learned to enjoy life again just for the sake of it. Eames saved him and gave him a new purpose by giving him his life back and his old dreams, everything that had been upended with Mal's death, and even a relatively new dream. A life together.

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

Inception 30 day challenge 2024

day 23: if you had to be stuck on a deserted island with an Inception character, who would you choose?

@inception30daychallenge

well,

it’s arthur.

[mister-eames]

-

Pulled Thread by Anticline/@strangegeology

-

“Roger will be pleased to see you,” Eames says softly.

There is a deep breath on the other end of the line, however many thousands of miles away they are from each other feeling both vast and infinitesimal.

“I’ve missed him. So much,” Arthur replies, a rough patch in his voice that snags on the hope Eames has tucked away in his chest somewhere, a loop of pulled thread that he wants to stick his finger through.

“He’s missed you, too,” says Eames, knowing neither of them are talking about the cat.

[doggosta]

Some one probably made this but anw my rendition happy 3rd of Inceptiversary!!!!

[fiiiiin]

Happy Inception day, everyone. Even when I’m not in my hyperfixated phase Arthur and Eames are always at the back of my mind. They are the blueprint both for fandom in general but also for myself and my first foray into fandom. This fandom means so much to me and I will always return here at the end of the day no matter what my mind is currently preoccupied with. The most intelligent and gentle and mature and literary fandom I’ve ever been involved in, and I’m so grateful for the film and those involved, the fandom/fanwork that arose from it, and our darlings Arthur and Eames :’)

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(16) - Epilogue

I Dreamed We'd Grow Old Together...

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Robert and Y/n's life over the next five years

word count - 2k

warnings - pregnancy, and an insane amount of fluff

a/n - and so it ends! This fic has been very important to me and has given me such a great outlet. I want to thank you all for your continued love and support for this fic! If it hadnt been for you guys I probably wouldnt have had enough confidence to continue it!

Please like/comment/reblog/follow!!!

a/n pt2 - Also seeing as I have fallen in love with this relationship I will be accepting questions and headcanons on their relationship!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

Questions and Headcanons on Robert x y/n - here

And so we came together. It felt like the culmination of a thousand dreams.

We went out on many dates. Robert would plan these luxurious and expensive expressions of affection: dinner at the fanciest restaurants, cinemas bought out for our private viewing experience. But we alternated who planned the dates, so when it came to my turn I went for the simplest. Walks on the beach, picnics in the park. One day I even found a crafting class for us, and I could’ve cried on the spot when I saw his eyes light up at the handmade windmills. Of course, he saw it as a happy coincidence when in reality I enjoyed feeling like I was healing his childhood self, one step at a time.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. We were out on a hike which I had chosen. He had grumbled about the idea of getting up early, but I could see the stress leave his body at the first gulp of forest air. I carried on ahead as he went to tie his shoe but when I turned back I gasped. Robert was down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/n Cobb, I have loved you since that first moment I laid eyes on you, and I think even before that.” I walked closer to him so I could hold his other outstretched hand. Tears were streaming down my face and my smile was holding back an extremely loud yes. “I know how much you believe in dreams and so on. And last night I had a dream that we grew old together. When I woke up I knew it had to be my reality. Y/n Cobb, will you…”

I threw my arms around him.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” I placed a loud kiss right on his lips.

“You could have at least let me finish!” He teasingly whined.

“Well I could see where you were going!” I argued back but was halted when he kissed me once more. We pulled away long enough so Robert could slide the ring onto my finger.

Safe to say, we did not finish the hike that day as we quickly went home to celebrate.

I had moved in with Robert before so we visited Dad and the kids for lunch the day after to give them the news. Dad had always been weary around Robert, not knowing if he would recognise him. But it was fine as, in my Dad’s words, ‘when Robert is around Y/n, it’s like the world doesn’t exist.’. Dad still couldn’t stop himself pulling Robert aside whilst Philippa was asking me a million questions about the wedding and if she could be a bridesmaid. All he did was roughly grab his hand and pulled him close and merely whispered

“She’s my precious girl. And I have a gun.”

Safe to say Robert was healthily shocked.

We got married weeks later as neither of us could wait. I told Robert I didn’t care about a big expensive wedding, but he couldn’t seem to accept that.

I got my wish for a small wedding in the garden of my childhood home, with just my closest friends. But everything else about it was still ridiculously posh. Right down to the flower arch we were married under.

James and Philippa were my brides’girl’ and brides’boy’. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. Arthur and Eames were there as well as Yusuf and Ariadne. They were all worried about the risk of the inceptors being so close to the mark after the heist.

“There’s no telling what could trigger his memory.”

“Well, y/n spent the most time with him out of all of us and she’s marrying him.”

“We can’t all sleep with him!”

“ENOUGH!”

I then put a rule that there was to be no dream talk at my wedding. My father even gave his own little speech explaining that if anyone ruined my wedding, he would kill them. We all laughed but his continued silence quickly shut us all up.

Robert did not want any family there. And he also didn’t have friends he felt were close enough to warrant an invitation.

One night, whilst planning, I cautiously asked him about inviting his godfather. He tensed up and lowered his eyes. He brushed it off saying it would be too many people. I reluctantly agreed with him whilst looking at the sparsity of his side of the guests.

The wedding was beautiful, and we finished with dancing on the grass well into the early hours of the morning. I got my first dance with my father, a day I thought would never come. Philippa asked Robert to dance, and he graciously accepted, lifting her up onto his feet and they swayed alongside us.

The morning after we were curled up together in bed. My back leaned on his chest as he played with my fingers. The morning sun bleeding into my childhood bedroom.

“Where do you want to live?” His morning voice broke the quiet.

“I thought we were going to move into your house.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes which were trained on a picture of me, my dad and my mum.

“I don’t wanna go back. Being here, in this house, with all the love in it. I just don’t want to go back there.”

“Okay.” I leaned up and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So if you could live in any house, anywhere in the world, where would you live?”

I snuggled myself back into his chest and closed my eyes as I imagined.

“Somewhere in the countryside, with a big sprawling garden that backs onto fields and forests with plenty of walks. The house should be cozy, with a big kitchen with an old fashioned stove that keeps us warm in winter. Wooden tables where I can cook and bake all day long till my hearts content. The house should have big windows so the sunlight can dictate our day. Small bedrooms but big comfy beds, fluffy rugs, open fires. And maybe even an extra room...with a cot.” I met his eyes for the last word.

“Yes.”

“To which bit?”

“To all of it.” We kissed passionately.

A few days later and Robert woke me up and told me we were going on a trip. We bundled into his car and drove for hours until we came to a stop outside a house that seeped with familiarity. I got out, transfixed by what stood before me. It was as real from my mind as if I had created it in my dream. Robert moved to unlock the little gate which led to the front door. He turned to me and held out a set of keys with a little windmill keychain.

“It needs a bit of work and I know I shouldn’t have bought it without showing you—”

“I love it.”

We didn’t need a honeymoon, the two weeks to ourselves spent decorating and filling the house with our love was enough. I drew designs for each room and Robert would do the heavy lifting. I could see how much he enjoyed working with his hands after dismantling his business a week into our relationship. I also was unable to help much as my hand found softly stroked a barely noticeable bump.

We relished in the days of decorating, where trying to paint a single wall would turn into silly games or dancing round to music, intermittent with many kisses and hugs.

Eventually we had built our home out of our house and we relaxed into our sofa, a bottle of red between us. We sealed the night with a kiss and it definitely didn’t end there.

Five Years Later

I stand at the sink washing our dishes from lunch and look out of the window onto our expansive garden. Robert runs about the grass, clad in soft jeans and a ratty knitted jumper. Our three darling children chase around him at varying speeds. Our eldest, Isla, holds her baby sister Aspen’s hand, and Nicholas, the youngest, toddles behind his sisters, excited to be involved.

Arthur runs up from behind and scoops Nicholas up into his arms through the giggling shrieks of the three. He bounces Nicholas up into the air. Isla and Aspen then run over and begin shouting up at their uncle for their turn.

I don’t hear Robert make his way into the house, I just feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and soft kisses being ladened up and down my neck. I sink back into his body which is warm from the sun. His arms snake down and his hands lay on mine.

“Leave those now. I’ll do them later.” I agree by turning in his arms so we can meet in a proper kiss. His fingers grip my waist and stroke my sides.

Our moment is interrupted by a loud opening of the door. I roll my eyes at the familiar sound and break apart to greet Eames at the door.

“Right! Where are my darling godchildren?”

“I give you a good time to come round, and you insist on coming just before their tea and bath time.”

He laughs and knocks my chin with his knuckle.

“Motherhood suits you.” I bat his hand away and gesture out the door. “Make it quick.”

I turn back to a still laughing Robert who quickly stops once he sees my stern face.

“I’ll ask Eames if he wants to stay for tea with Arthur.” He goes to go back into the garden.

“What you thinking for tea?” I ask his retreating form.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“Delicious.” He smiles and leaves.

I begin sorting through the mail which still sat on the side. I smiled once I reached a postcard from Dad. He’d taken the kids to Disneyland for a week and sent a picture of them with Goofy. I pinned it up on our cork board.

My peaceful moment is soon interrupted.

“Y/n! Tell Arthur that I’m the favourite uncle!”

“Y/n! Tell Eames that fun does not have to mean dangerous!”

“Mama, mama, Uncle Eames turned me upside down and span me around!”

“See! Dangerous!”

“Honey, where’s the disinfectant? Aspen scraped her knee.”

“Mummy it really hurts!”

“Mama! Uppies! Uppies!”

I picked Nicholas up into my arms and simply giggled, perfectly happy with my life.

It was now night. Arthur and Eames had left after insisting on reading the kids stories which meant they were roped into reading 3 stories per child. Nicholas had gone down first. Then Aspen and even though Isla had loved staying up with mummy and daddy, tiredness had overcome her quickly. So Robert carried her up and tucked her into bed.

We now lay in bed together, curled up. Simply relishing in the silence that was so foreign in our big house.

“Do you wanna know something strange?” He broke the silence. “That day we met, I had a dream about a girl who I fell in love with. I like to think it was you.”

I bit my lip to stop myself uncontrollably grinning.

“And since then, my dreams have been consumed by you and our little family.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but he was locked in thought and I knew I couldn’t interrupt his thoughtfulness.

“The moment I met you I realised that I wanted to create my own family rather than continue working for one that never loved me.”

I hugged him tighter as his voice shook slightly.

“Well, that’s good. Because your family is about to get a little bigger.” I took his hand and drifted it down until it landed on a subtle bump.

“Perfect.” He kissed my hairline as his hand stroked up and down my stomach.

The silence resumed and we both fell deeper into the stillness of the night. But as I drifted off one thought plagued my mind.

Perhaps the idea never actually took hold.

Perhaps it was me and him.

Us together, that changed his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67 @alice2612

[ladysarai]

Inception Big Bang fic! c:

@nutterzoi and I cowrote this MASSIVE fic for @inception-bigbang this year!! We were SO lucky to be paired with @mister-eames! THANK YOU ASH, you have been the best cheerleader!! c:

Everything I Never Knew I Always Wanted by Lady Sarai and NutterZoi

Word Count: 56,016 words Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Inception (2010) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception) Characters: Arthur (Inception), Eames (Inception), Ariadne (Inception), Phillipa Cobb, James Cobb (Inception), Arthur's Father (Inception) Additional Tags: Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, it's Mal, And Dom Series: Part 1 of Everything We Always Wanted Summary: Roughly a year after the events of Inception, Dom is killed because he never gave up extraction. As godfather, Arthur is given custody of Phillipa and James. To protect them and keep them safe, he fakes his death and goes into hiding with them. Meanwhile, Eames is mourning Arthur and the chance they never really had together. When he tries to tie up Arthur’s loose ends for him, he realizes: Arthur's already done it. Arthur is alive and Eames sets out to find him. Neither of them ever imagined themselves living a normal, domestic life, or being parents. In the end, Arthur and Eames both need to decide what they want out of life, and who they want it with.

And yes. The title does come from Fools Rush In, this piece of '90s cinematic brilliance:

I am incredibly proud of us for finishing this, actually. c: We started it at the end of April. It's our baby! All grown up and out in the world now!!

Thank you for letting me drag you into this fandom and this ship, and for playing in this sandbox with me, @nutterzoi, my bestie. Everything is better with you.

[commonpigeon]

i could do a timeline or everything i shipped but it would be like 150 ships. i think the most significant (in chronological order) are probably bella/edward, cherimon, phan, klaine, brencer, peterick, thorki, stony, merthur, arthur/eames, cherik, mcshep, janto, wincest, spirk, mulder/scully, newt/hermann, stucky, mavin, the whole of funhaus as an ot7, jaime/brienne, the guys from book of mormon, ice hockey players, katya/trixie, i stopped reading fanfiction for 18 months while i started uni and was dating and clubbing and then the pandemic happened, mulder/scully again, MERTHUR for real this time, DESTIEL big time, WANGXIANNN and nie mingjue/jin guangyao/(lan xichen), xue yang/xiao xingchen/song lan, JOHNLOCK like to an insane degree, Hannibal/will, hawkeye/BJ, those fucking pirates (comedy), guillermo/nandor, Louis/lestat rhe first time, peterick AGAIN, loustat AGAIN, DEVILS MINION. have i missed anything

[dingdangit]

Title: Everything's Waiting For You

Rating: M

Relationship(s): Arthur/Eames

Word Count: 5.2k

Tags: Post-Canon, Fake Marriage, Heist, Mild Sexual Content, Jealousy, (unfounded but yknow how it goes), Getting Back Together, Community: inceptiversary

Summary:

“They moved our deadline up by two weeks,” Ariadne reminded him, as though he needed it. “This is going to be our only opportunity to get him in a room.” “I don’t understand how posing as a couple accomplishes that.” “Our charming mark has a predilection for married men,” Eames explained. He raised a suggestive brow. “Interloping, to put a finer point on it.” Oh. In which Arthur agrees to pretend to be Eames' husband, because he's a professional. It'll be fine, and not complicated at all.

Notes: I was thrilled to get to write this for Anticline's ( @strangegeology ) Inceptiversary prize! Their prompt was "unexpected delivery," which was immediately intriguing. I had set out with the intent of this being ~2k words...ain't that just the way? I hope it fulfills what they were looking for :3

[egobuzz]

i finally (FINALLY) got around to watching inception, and im really looking forward to diving into the arthur x eames tag on ao3. any recs? 👀

Luckily, there is so much incredible fic out there for Inception. So this is by no means a complete list of everything I have ever enjoyed, these are just the fics that have stayed with me over the years:

Wherever You Will Be (That's Where I'll Call Home) [The DomesticVerse] by gyzym

People you kiss in an airport baggage claim and then don't talk to for thirteen months shouldn't be able to exist, let alone make your chest do the things Arthur's chest is doing. There are rules.

Presque Vu by rageprufrock

Or, "on the tip of the tongue." Arthur meets Mal first. He inherits Dom, after. Everything else is on him.

Lions and Tigers by Starlingthefool

What were you like as a kid?” Eames asks him. “Quiet,” Arthur says. “I lived in my head a lot. You?” “I did too,” Eames replies. “Only I was never quiet about it.” A story about growing up, sort of.

Renovations!verse by joosetta

In which Eames builds a nest and (accidentally) lures Arthur into it.

Hope you enjoy! So many talented authors have written for the Inception fandom at some point, so there’s so much incredible work out there to discover. There’s a reason why I keep coming back after 14 years ❤️

Also, if you want more recommendations, bookshop here on tumblr also made a really helpful list of recs for people new to the fandom, so I’d check that out as well!

[valerileygreen]

It's apparent from the movie that Arthur loves paradoxes. And maybe that's because he is sort of a paradox himself, he's full of little contradictions and I doubt he even realizes it most of the time (but Eames does and it's what made the pointman so interesting at the beginning).

Arthur is analytical and meticulous, he likes precision and details, and makes plans and contingencies; and yet he is so skillful at improvising, and even enjoys it in a way, outsmarting sudden unexpected problems, at least when they're not risking Limbo (so much for having no imagination). But even more interesting is how he presents himself to others as calm and detached and yet he cares so much just about everything.

And more interestingly, while his emotions are always clearly visible on his face (thank you JGL for your expressive afce), he keeps himself on a tight leash, rarely allowing himself to actually act upon it, at least not without passing through some kind of filter of rationality first. That is, unless they're in the direst situations with adrenaline and stress running high.

And unless the person at the other end of the exchange is Eames. Because Arthur too acts different than usual around him.

Arthur, who is always so poised and collected, or at least strives to be, allows himself to engage in the banter Eames initiate, and to just react instinctively to his jabs. And even if most of the time that reaction is based in mild annoyance and competitiveness, it still feels like friendship and trust. Because for once Arthur is letting himself really feel and inhabit it his emotions, something he does with no one else. And then shit hits the fan and we really see just how much Arthur really cares for Eames when he flips in the taxi scene and when he helps him with the PASIV just to exchange a few soft reassuring words that may or may not be their last ones to each other; and how much he relies on Eames, even subconsciously, when he relaxes after the darling comment.

He feels safe enough with Eames to lower his guard and loosen himself up, to show even the most imperfect, less polished, 'ugliest' side of himself, sure in the knowledge Eames doesn't really see him as just a pointman or a mentor or whatever, but as a person and a friend. And it's liberating.

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

Arthur and eames is one of THOSE ships where the characters make their relationship everyone else’s problem, no matter the state of their relationship.

pining stage? get ready to hear about how Arthur’s eyes mirror the colour of his brown coffee when sun hits his eyes at the perfect angle or how soft spoken Eames can be when he’s taking to random little animals running in warehouses. Together stage? Not a single job can be done without one of you walking in to a making out session between them and it’s always buy one get one package deal for these mofos even if your team don’t necessarily need a forger. Breakup stage? “Arthur? he’s good at what he does but can he ✨imagine✨?” “We need a forger yes but there are plenty good thieves please ” Make up stage? let’s forget about the mark AND the billionaire client and help each other connecting IVs and kissing each other goodbyes I can’t with them

[mister-eames]

Hi hi hi can we please discuss in more detail how eames and Arthur’s love for one another might manifest in their dreams, especially during the PINING YEARS since their dreams are possible their only outlet for this love!! Because when they’re awake, in the real world they have to repress it, seal it away, pretend it’s not a big deal... ahhh! Going insane over this thought! The power of the subconscious!!

Yes!! I keep thinking how pieces of people must show up in dreams, how our subconscious simply can't help but bleed into dreamscapes - even in the most detailed build, even with the most experienced dreamer. It's your brain being used for the foundation, there must be some cross-over! And if it's a powerful emotion like love or hate or grief, well we've seen it in the latter, so why not the rest?

They both take forever to notice it. And even then Arthur, who notices it first, doesn't even see it until Cobb points it out. They're doing a test run in Arthurs dream - and the menu at the restaurant they're not even supposed to stop at has items with titles of AC/DC songs.

While Cobb is astute enough to know that and assumes Arthur has an earworm, what he doesn't know is that on Arthur knows that Eames listens to the band when he works out and taps his fingers to the rhythm of thunderstruck and you shook me all night long when he's restless.

After that Arthur can't unsee the things he's picked up from Eames in his dreams. At first he tries to convince himself that of course Eames is just that annoying he infests Arthurs subconscious. A literal parasite.

But then some of his projections have crooked teeth, and he starts seeing more and more of Eames' forges as projections - and the projections that aren't echoes are forges are wearing Eames' watch, or the trucker cap Eames' wears when they're not on the job and he's back at home, recuperating from not being himself. There are little pockets in his dreamscape that are from stories he has heard Eames tell when he was eavesdropping, like the antique store his mum used to temp at during his primary school years. The playground where he got into his first fight. They look innocuous to anyone else but Arthur knows they're from his own imaginings and daydreams. Parasite, he reminds himself.

Every time he wakes up a little more perturbed, afraid of the magnitude of his own feelings. Maybe if he can pretend to loathe Eames in the real world his brain (and body) will get the memo.

One day they go into Cobbs dream and he notices a pair of feminine, cat-eye sunglasses folded and hooked into Cobbs dress-shirt. He points it out and Cobb mumbles something about Mal and Arthur stops listening. His first thought is: I don't want to know.

Then he remembers all of the little details he'd flat out ignored his own dreams. How his subconscious seemed to lovingly envelope itself around such tiny details.

His second thought is: Oh no. I'm fucked.

[enchi-elm]

✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

rules: post 7 sentences/a snippet of an unfinished work

I will do you one better, I will just post the whole thing as I'm not planning on taking it anywhere. Thanks, @strangegeology, for the tag!

Unbeta'd, unedited, etc. etc.

tagging @tortoisesshells, @ladysarai, @thenwhatthefukcisthis, @valerileygreen because I thiiiink you weren't tagged yet!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

one - love

Eames comes across Arthur at the tennis court. He wants to stay back, observe the man from a distance, but Arthur spots him as soon as he’s within view. His game face doesn’t change—if he’s scowling at Eames’ appearance, Eames can’t tell. He might be hitting the ball a little harder and his opponent stumbles as he lunges, sprawling flat against the court as the ball hits the chain-link fence.

Arthur walks to his bag and grabs his towel, holding up a finger and nodding at his opponent. He wipes his face, walking over swiftly to where Eames stands.

Before Eames can make a comment about his tennis whites, or even ask what the hell Arthur is doing playing at a country club, Arthur cuts him off.

"What are you doing here? Whatever this is, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Hello to you, too. But fine, if he wants to get right to business.

“I have a job for you,” Eames says.

“I don’t work for you.”

“No, but I thought you might deign to work alongside me again. For the right price.”

Arthur gives him a wary look, then glances at his opponent, who’s subtly trying to ingest as many glucose tubes as Arthur’s brief distraction will let him.

“I’m busy,” he says, turning away.

“I’ll be at the bar,” Eames calls out, without acknowledgement from the point man.

Arthur goes back to his position, tossing his towel aside en route. His opponent wipes his mouth and gets into position to serve, already grimacing.

Eames watches Arthur return the serve as if he’s decapitating someone.

Eames knows little about tennis and can’t gauge the length of the game before Arthur shows up at the country club, racket and gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eames is deep in conversation with another patron—swindling him blind and leading him on besides—but he gives a thin smile at the younger man’s approach.

“So what do you want?” Arthur asks, and Eames can tell from no tell at all: he won his match.

“Arthur, let me introduce you to Mr. Ian Thorpe. A financier from Atlanta.”

Arthur shakes hands, just this side of civil.

“Pleasure.”

“Your friend’s been spinning me quite the yarn,” the financier says. He’s a forgettable sort of rich—the right colour suit, but the wrong cut. “He’d have me believing in the investment of a lifetime.”

“He’s a crook,” Arthur says, to a chuckle from Eames. “And a liar. But he gets results.”

The man laughs and rises. “Well, maybe I will give you a call then. I’m sure we can find a way to do business.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” Eames says, greasily, packing everything into the lift of his lips that might otherwise be transmitted in a wink. Arthur watches the man leave and takes the other chair at the table.

“He’s not worth your time,” he says.

Eames casually flashes a black leather wallet—not his. “He already has been.”

“I doubt he’ll miss the cash.”

Eames flips it open and pulls out the driver’s license, perusing it. “It’s not the cash that interests me.”

“He’s your target.”

Eames puts away the wallet. “Or maybe just a person of interest.” He focuses on Arthur, a transparent smile on his face. It could mean anything.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to recruit you. If such a thing is even possible—you must be booked well into next year.”

“What’s the job?”

“An oil man. Bit of a twisted one.”

“Let me guess. Inception?” It wouldn’t be the first offer Arthur’s had this month. It wouldn’t be the first of the week. Whoever blabbed—and Arthur has his theories—made sure that their little reverse-heist was on the lips of every extractor in the industry. Not because they’d tried—God, lots of people had tried—but because Fischer Morrow had folded within six months after Fischer Sr.’s death. Even Arthur hadn’t expected such a swift return.

Eames hums, sympathetic to Arthur’s irritation. He must be hearing a lot of it, too. “You know that the men’s world record for the 100 m dash was at a stalemate for 12 years before it was broken? All it took was one man to crack it and it got beat twice again in four years.”

Arthur pushes down the urge to correct him. It was 14 years, not 12. And it took another five years for it to get broken again. But he knows what he’s saying. For the longest time, Inception was only theory.

“Why, did someone else do it?” That would be interesting.

“A sucker born every two weeks, if the rumour mill is to be believed. Personally, I doubt it.”

“Why, ‘cause you weren’t involved?”

“I was going to say,” Eames says, lifting his glass, “because you weren’t.”

The flattery works, for one unexpected second—Arthur feels a warmth in his neck. He pulls out his water bottle and drinks deeply.

“So what is the job? Extraction? I’m not doing more than two levels. I’m not exactly keen for another one of Yusuf’s concoctions.”

“That’s a shame. I can’t get him off my phone. Says he’s never had such a willing test subject. I think he’d work for free if it meant he got another whack at you.”

“Not a chance. Why aren’t you answering my question?”

“Because I’m savouring this time together before you storm off to annihilate some other poor sod on the court.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Why would I storm off?”

“Because you’re not going to like how much you’ll want to do this.”

Arthur listens as Eames tells him the job. He gives it ten steady seconds before he stands and walks away without another word.

“I’ll be in touch!” Eames calls and Arthur gives him the finger without looking back.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(10)

You knew?

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Y/n is left alone to be confronted with her greatest fear.

word count - 1.7k

warnings - attempted SA, attempted r*pe, offensive language, tears, major angst.

a/n - this is a very important and angsty chapter.

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“You’re in a dream, honey.”

Once the words had been whispered there was no way I could take them back. Each syllable had put a target on our backs and as I saw the realisation alight in Robert’s eyes, we simultaneously felt constricting gazes begin to penetrate the three of us.

I took deep breaths, refusing the desire to turn around to meet their eyes. My hand had remained on the back of Roberts neck. It had started as a sign of comfort but as my nails gripped tighter it became a warning. ‘Don’t look at them. Look at me.’.

“Darling,” My dads voice broke through my façade and pierced a vein which released all new gushes of anxiety. “Go. Take some off our tail. Give us two minutes.” I understood my fathers request and it’s logic was sound but still I could not move. My feet were planted next to Robert’s and that’s where I needed to be. I feared for his safety more than mine. I had been under attack more times than years I’ve lived. But he had no experience of combat and his danger could mean a one way ticket down to limbo. I stroked my fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck. This gesture was caught in my dads steely gaze and his demeanour became stern. “Now!” Upon daring to look up at him I found no room for argument.

I reluctantly left the warmth of his body to stand. I fixed my dress as if it would right everything else. I swiftly turned on my heel to leave the bar. The purposefulness of my walk was bound to attract others, as I had left my subtlety in favour for a bright red danger sign. My heels clicked down the hallway and I picked up on several presences beginning to manoeuvre in my general direction. None explicitly heading my way except one pair of footsteps which I could feel breathing on the back of my heels.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I walked beside Ariadne ready to assemble the team for the next layer. My eyes darted around on the watch for behaviour that would cause suspicion or warrant action. I also looked for Y/n.

We had reached the elevator and were waiting for it to arrive. But when I looked to my left I spotted Y/n. She was walking towards us in a manner of confidence. She didn’t blend in. She stood out. All eyes flocked to her unusual presence as she strutted down the hallway with an apparent presupposed destination.

The mark had been made aware of the dream; the projections were alert. This was not the time for anyone to be walking alone. Even Saito was with Eames. I had Ariadne. Cobb swore he’d stick with Y/n. So why did she leave? Unless she didn’t of her own volition.

I assessed her situation, analysing every eye that was solely fixed upon her. She was heading into the bathroom which seemed an unusual move. The soles of her feet picked up quicker and it seemed adrenaline spiked her blood to speed her forward in a speed out of the norm. Her body seemed desperate to remove itself from an unknown threat. I couldn’t discern the logic of any of her actions until she turned the corner to open the door.

My fist clenched but before I could move I was dragged into the now waiting elevator by a bustle of people wanting in. I loudly cursed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

The heavy door pushed back against my bones, but I was forceful and nearly threw my whole body against it. I practically collapsed inside the room, stumbling in my heels which burned. My breathing quickened and I had to grip the edge of a sink to ground myself once again. There was no time. There was no time. But Dad needed time. Robert needed time. I could give them time.

My heart jumped through my bones as the familiar creak of the door sounded once again. I refused to meet his gaze in an admittance of surrender. His steps got louder until he’d gripped my arm to throw me around to face him. He slammed his pelvis into my own making my back crash into the sinks edge. I cried out feeling the burn through my muscles. My legs begged to give out but they only managed to slide around on the tiles as he gripped my other arm.

“Who do we have here, ey?” His words poured out of his mouth like slime. A build-up of saliva decorated his teeth like tinsel and formed fangs when he separated his gums. I winced in disgust as he leaned down closer to my body. He found purchase in my neck and inhaled deeply. My arms struggled fruitlessly knowing no amount of strength would ever be enough for me now. A tear dripped down my cheek over my expressionless face. It was the only way I knew.

“Not a talker.” He spat out both literally and figuratively. “Don’t matter.” He pulled me up using my elbows as handles. As limp as a ragdoll meant it was easy for him to throw me against one of the closed toilet doors. “I have a much better use for that mouth of yours.” His grin consumed his entire face.

At the throw my head thwacked back with the reverberated force and for a moment I prayed that I would not have to be awake for what was to come. But the darkness never came, and it never would. There was no way out.

I felt his grimy fingers grip my shoulders in a pushing motion. Staging my limp frame in a kneeling position. My eyes burned with tears through their tight close. He used his fingers to stretch out my cheeks, taunting me of what was about to happen. My skin ached at the movement. His thumb entered my mouth and danced across my rows of teeth. I gagged at the intrusion. “Now, now. No biting.” I resigned myself with one last influx of tears until my ducts had dried fully.

The sound of a ripping door startled the man and he barely had chance to look for the intruders before he was punched square in the eyes. He toppled down next to me and I flinched away before any of him could touch me anymore. My tears blurred my saviour but I pushed them away and I managed to catch a glimpse of Robert standing over me with a hand reached out. I fearfully took his hand and my shaking seemed to stop once we were linked. He helped me up and checked me over. He was careful with his hand placements fearing a reaction to any sudden movement. My body unconcsciously leaning towards his in search of comfort was all the confirmation he needed to wrap me up in his arms. My head relaxed onto his chest but my arms remained tightly held to my chest looking as if rigor mortis had set in. He tucked his chin on the top of my head and delivered a light kiss. No words were spoke about it. He stroked through my locks and the consistent feeling slowed my racing heart.

Through all of this, my dad was searching my attacker for weapons.

“Your daughter was just – what the fuck was that?” Robert shouted through his breathy confusion. But his arms never left my frail frame.

Without looking up from the body, my father answered. “Projections usually react to attack whatever subject is put in front of them,” He gestured up to myself and Robert looked at me and his gaze held pure anger. “Projections are actually one of the weakest parts of the dream and can only focus on one threat at a time…”

“You knew?” I whispered, raising my head from Roberts embrace. “You fucking knew.” Rage began to build up in my veins and I separated so I could stalk towards his uncaring stance.

He still would not look me in the eyes. “Did you know?” I shoved his shoulder. “Look at me. Did you fucking know?” I used both hands to childishly bang on his back in a tantrum. “LOOK AT ME!”

He spun around to meet me. He raised so he towered over me. I shrunk in this unfamiliar gaze. “Yes.” My lip shook when the tears fought to climb out once more. I’d never cried more in this short amount of time than in my whole life.

“All this time?”

His gaze seemed to soften before his next phrase. “Every single one.”

I tightened my eyes to will myself to fight on. Once they reopened, they had steeled. “And you still ordered me to go.” I scoffed at his unapologetic confidence in the face of this confession.

“You knew what projections do. And yet you still sent me away.” The lump in my throat meant the words didn’t come out easily but I fought on. “No actually.” I searched through his face which screamed of guilt. “You hoped it would happen. Well, projections can only focus on one thing at a time. Right?” He couldn’t give me a confirmation but worse, he couldn’t deny. He passed by my body which I could no longer will to move. My eyes held nothing, and the only sign of life were my quick shallow breaths and the final tear that fell.

“Mr Fischer,” Robert’s eyes remained fixed on my back even as Cobb spoke at him. He was confused by the conversation which had just transpired between father and daughter but he was sure of his deep desire to comfort the girl. I felt his eyes on me but I couldn’t let him see me like this. He didn’t deserve to be sucked into the crazy knots which were my life. I could hear my dad speak, asking Robert for a number. But nothing registered. As if they were merely acting out on a screen which I had a viewing for.

I sucked back and planted a faux smile over my dried tear tracks. I spun back around the armour of character concealing any open wounds.

“I guess we should start with room 528 and room 491.” My confidence seeped through and left my body.

Robert’s brows furrowed at my sudden demeanour change. But they more so held concern and disbelief at the appearance of contentment I was portraying.

We left the bathroom, led by my father. I felt a hand ghost against my lower back. I almost succumbed to the show of genuine comfort. But it only confirmed the worries in my heart. I stilled myself to force the decision I didn’t want to make.

After this, I will never see Robert Fischer again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Omgggg Cobb always knew??? What did you guys think of the new chapter??

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