Okay, so, because I’m a very bad person I want to see sadist!Eames. Not an Eames that hurts others because he has to or to protect them, but an Eames that genuinely likes to see others in pain.
[Gen] or Arthur/Eames; Eames begins to show signs of Multiple Personality Disorder/DID (angst, h/c)
anonymous
August 15 2010, 14:57:46 UTC
As Eames's Forgery career soldiers on, he begins to suffer random black-outs as his more heavily used identities begin to manifest themselves as new personalities. The more he Forges an identity, the more influence and strength that personality gains over Eames-and the longer it can fight his dominant personality for control of his body
( ... )
FILL HALF ONEkore_risingAugust 16 2010, 05:54:44 UTC
okay i'm a terrible writer and this is totally spontaneous and kate nash has been mostly responsible for it. also please ignore all the matthew gray gubler propaganda. -- "Matthew Gray Gubler is a complete namby-pamby," Arthur says contemptuously as the credits roll.
Ariadne sits up from his left arm, which she'd been settled comfortably into for the past ninety-four minutes, her hazel eyes wide with incredulity.
"That's really all you can manage to say?" she exclaims in nothing short of consternation, her eyebrows twisted sorrowfully. Arthur snorts and pushes a hand over his hair (which is pointless because it's all slicked back anyway). She looks even more stunned by his insolence. "Don't you have any taste?"
"My goodness, Ariadne, it's only a damn movie." Arthur smirks. "The way you've been talking about it, you'd think it was about as exciting as reading War and Peace in the rain. It was a bit of a letdown
( ... )
FILL HALF TWOkore_risingAugust 16 2010, 05:55:25 UTC
"All right, then." He hauls himself, gangly legs and all, off of Ariadne's saggy, enveloping yellow couch and heads for the DVD player, pulling a battered case out from beneath the machine. (He stuck it there earlier; they've been planning this for a while.) He hides its cover from Ariadne as she cranes her neck over to see the title (he's been keeping it a secret) and prods the little silver button and swipes the (500) Days of Summer disk with one finger before putting in his choice for the night.
"I don't know why you won't just tell me what it is," Ariadne says grumpily. Arthur just grins, a rare and intricate action.
As the title comes up, Ariadne nearly falls over.
"With the coming of the second World War, many eyes in imprisoned Europe turn hopefully, or desperately, toward the freedom of the Americas. Lisbon became the great embarkation point, but... not everyone could get to Lisbon directly. And so a tortuous roundabout refugee trail sprang up. Paris to Marseilles. Across the Mediterranean to Oran. Then by train, or auto,
( ... )
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The more confused/frustrated Arthur gets, the more amused (and turned on) Eames gets.
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I like the way you think, anon!!
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Please write it!
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--
"Matthew Gray Gubler is a complete namby-pamby," Arthur says contemptuously as the credits roll.
Ariadne sits up from his left arm, which she'd been settled comfortably into for the past ninety-four minutes, her hazel eyes wide with incredulity.
"That's really all you can manage to say?" she exclaims in nothing short of consternation, her eyebrows twisted sorrowfully. Arthur snorts and pushes a hand over his hair (which is pointless because it's all slicked back anyway). She looks even more stunned by his insolence. "Don't you have any taste?"
"My goodness, Ariadne, it's only a damn movie." Arthur smirks. "The way you've been talking about it, you'd think it was about as exciting as reading War and Peace in the rain. It was a bit of a letdown ( ... )
Reply
"I don't know why you won't just tell me what it is," Ariadne says grumpily. Arthur just grins, a rare and intricate action.
As the title comes up, Ariadne nearly falls over.
"With the coming of the second World War, many eyes in imprisoned Europe turn hopefully, or desperately, toward the freedom of the Americas. Lisbon became the great embarkation point, but... not everyone could get to Lisbon directly. And so a tortuous roundabout refugee trail sprang up. Paris to Marseilles. Across the Mediterranean to Oran. Then by train, or auto, ( ... )
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