battered and bruised, arthur/other, arthur/eames [1/2]
Title: Battered and Bruised, [1/2]
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/other, Arthur/Eames
Summary: I wrote this based off a dream I had the night before (I happen to have morbid-ish dreams). Arthur falls for the wrong man and regrets it after he gets abused.
Warnings: Abuse & mentions of rape
bruises, so many bruises. you look at yourself in the cracked mirror you'd broken when he slammed you against it and proceeded to fuck you, ignoring your protesting cries, or yells of pain as the jagged pieces cut into your cheek. you're a wasted, bloody mess. your right eye is bruised and purple, your left is swollen shut. what's left of your clothes is torn, ragged and bloody- you can now only imagine what your three-piece suit looked like before.
before.
you cannot really remember when you met Daniel, but you remember a dimly lit bar in some dodgy district you ended up in by mistake. you remember thinking, after a few drinks, that Daniel would be the perfect boyfriend. you remember telling him this and blushing right after you said it. instead of looking horrified, like you thought, Daniel had grinned, this wide grin that showed off a set of pearly white teeth.
Daniel took you home that night and fucked you into the stained couch. despite being with another man, you still couldn't help thinking of another man, all stubble and broad shoulders and quick wit, and- and you realize that after all this time you still do think about that man.
Daniel grins that same grin from that first night now when he's hurting you, like the sick, twisted bastard he is. if you had a gun, like those you used to dream up in those dreams that now feel like a lifetime away, you know you'd shoot. but like an old friend you thought you forgot once told you, "dreams aren't reality". you can only hope.
you don't dream any more. you'd like to, but your subconscious is now filled with things that you only know will hurt you, so you don't. Daniel doesn't let you, anyway.
Daniel had been perfect the first week or so after you'd moved in with him. he'd persuaded you to cut off contact with the world you once knew for "a chance at a normal life", he'd said. and like the blind, foolish man you were, you'd believed him. you'd thrown your cellphone, pager and files into a pond, thinking that you'd be better off without them. you were wrong-- so wrong.
you came home one day from the supermarket, a loaf of bread under one arm, a bottle of wine under the other. you thought something was off when Daniel walked towards you in the foyer, but you thought your instincts were only because of your intense training. you had let him pull you up to your bedroom anyway, red wine and bread forgotten. you didn't see the chains and the bat coming. you didn't see the rope.
you think you're going to die here. and dying, you think, would be so much better. you died a thousand times before in dreams, so it couldn't be any worse than dying in reality. yes, you'd like that, you think.
what you don't know is, across the country, that man, that same broad-shouldered, quick-witted man, and your best friend, whispers from your past, are determinedly scouring cities, countries, continents for you. you have no idea that that broad-shouldered, quick-witted man that you think about, thinks about you the same way. and one day, they will find you. they will.
Part 2
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/other, Arthur/Eames
Summary: I wrote this based off a dream I had the night before (I happen to have morbid-ish dreams). Arthur falls for the wrong man and regrets it after he gets abused.
Warnings: Abuse & mentions of rape
bruises, so many bruises. you look at yourself in the cracked mirror you'd broken when he slammed you against it and proceeded to fuck you, ignoring your protesting cries, or yells of pain as the jagged pieces cut into your cheek. you're a wasted, bloody mess. your right eye is bruised and purple, your left is swollen shut. what's left of your clothes is torn, ragged and bloody- you can now only imagine what your three-piece suit looked like before.
before.
you cannot really remember when you met Daniel, but you remember a dimly lit bar in some dodgy district you ended up in by mistake. you remember thinking, after a few drinks, that Daniel would be the perfect boyfriend. you remember telling him this and blushing right after you said it. instead of looking horrified, like you thought, Daniel had grinned, this wide grin that showed off a set of pearly white teeth.
Daniel took you home that night and fucked you into the stained couch. despite being with another man, you still couldn't help thinking of another man, all stubble and broad shoulders and quick wit, and- and you realize that after all this time you still do think about that man.
Daniel grins that same grin from that first night now when he's hurting you, like the sick, twisted bastard he is. if you had a gun, like those you used to dream up in those dreams that now feel like a lifetime away, you know you'd shoot. but like an old friend you thought you forgot once told you, "dreams aren't reality". you can only hope.
you don't dream any more. you'd like to, but your subconscious is now filled with things that you only know will hurt you, so you don't. Daniel doesn't let you, anyway.
Daniel had been perfect the first week or so after you'd moved in with him. he'd persuaded you to cut off contact with the world you once knew for "a chance at a normal life", he'd said. and like the blind, foolish man you were, you'd believed him. you'd thrown your cellphone, pager and files into a pond, thinking that you'd be better off without them. you were wrong-- so wrong.
you came home one day from the supermarket, a loaf of bread under one arm, a bottle of wine under the other. you thought something was off when Daniel walked towards you in the foyer, but you thought your instincts were only because of your intense training. you had let him pull you up to your bedroom anyway, red wine and bread forgotten. you didn't see the chains and the bat coming. you didn't see the rope.
you think you're going to die here. and dying, you think, would be so much better. you died a thousand times before in dreams, so it couldn't be any worse than dying in reality. yes, you'd like that, you think.
what you don't know is, across the country, that man, that same broad-shouldered, quick-witted man, and your best friend, whispers from your past, are determinedly scouring cities, countries, continents for you. you have no idea that that broad-shouldered, quick-witted man that you think about, thinks about you the same way. and one day, they will find you. they will.
Part 2