#I say crack for a reason but hey it's at least some fun fic fodder

[muninnhuginn]

Crack theory time: the seventh victim was Cheng Xiaoshi. The files vanished because he no longer died but the reset was imperfect and left traces

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Second Rule (standalone)

Summary: Everyone knew the first rule of Underfell; 'Kill or Be Killed'.

The second rule, 'Don't Get Involved', was less well known but Grillby always followed it scrupulously, anyway.

Until today.

Tags: Underfell Grillby, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Violence, Baby Bones, Hurt/Comfort, Child Abandonment, Childhood Trauma, Protectiveness

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~~*~~

The first rule of Underfell was kill or be killed. Everyone had that shit either beaten into them by the time they could toddle or they were too dead for it to matter much.

The second rule wasn’t talked about as much, but just because no one wore a shirt advertising it didn’t mean that a Monster didn’t have to pick up on it pretty fucking quickly. Don’t get involved, that was the rule, and those that didn’t learn it, well, whatever kin they had probably needed to invest in a new broom and a dustpan.

Don’t get involved. That was the word, simple and concise and Grillby was usually pretty fucking good at it. He kept to it his entire life, grunging out a living in New Home and once he had the G saved up to get out of that garbage scow, he headed off to Snowdin. Same shitty clientele and it was always miserably fucking cold, but at least you could breathe without coughing back out a mouthful of polluted air and dust. Still a shithole even if it were a slightly upgraded shithole, not exactly the kind of place he’d dreamed about as kid.

Didn’t matter. Reality was no place for dreams and Grillby was keeping it real. He ran his place, kept an eye on the tabs, and kept to himself. That was his rule and he kept to it scrupulously.

Until today.

His first mistake was looking at all. What he should’ve done was kept going forward, head back to the bar with his groceries and started his regular morning prep work. His thoughts were already slicing potatoes to soak for fries, polishing drinking glasses, cleaning up any leftover splinters from the furniture that got wrecked in last night’s fight. Same as any other day, but he still kept his hearing hot, listening for any asshole who thought his XP looked extra tempting this fine fucking cold morning. It was automatic after years of living in new Home. Half of Snowdin would take out anyone directly responsible for losing them their only bar and the other half would take bets on it, but that wouldn’t do Grillby much good if he were dead. That was the only reason he heard it, coming from the alleyway between the Bun Bakery and the hotel.

“leave my brother alone!” Childishly high and filled with fear coupled to fury. From the coarse laughter that followed, whoever they were talking to wasn’t much impressed.

Grillby didn’t do more than glance down the alley, catching sight of three of the Bun family standing in a semi-circle, looming close to the alley wall and that was where his gaze stalled. The Monsters they surrounded were huddled close to the ground and from the striped shirts it was a couple of kids, one of them curling protectively over the other where they were lying crumpled on the ground. Next to them were the remains of a couple of cinnamon bunnies, mashed to crumbs like they’d been stomped on.

Out here in the sticks, a striped shirt wasn’t sacred so much as it was a warning that someone bigger and angrier might come looking for a little revenge, but neither of those filthy scrags looked like they had a single G to their name, much less a parent or older brother. A kid had as much XP as anyone and if their kin weren’t gonna look after them, then the world would take care of them in its own way. That was the fucking rule, kill or be killed, but they were kids, fuck, a couple of kids…

Grillby sighed and set his bag down at the entrance to the alley in a dry place out of the slush of snow, ramping up the internal furnace of his soul until his flames glowed deep purple. “Hey,” he called, and the Buns whipped around to face him, scarred faces twisting in surprise and irritation.

“What do you want, Grillby,” said the tallest of the three. Jono was a regular patron of his, big and not too dumb, all things considered. His cousins were a couple of dim bulbs, suited for drinking and XP fodder when they finally drank too much one night and staggered off to their deaths, but for now they were very much alive, standing as hulking statues behind Jono.

Grillby only shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. Didn’t need ‘em to literally fire off an attack. “Just seeing what’s going on.” He tipped his head towards the kids, who were cringing against the alley wall, their gazes flicking warily between them. “Takes three of you to handle some single digit XP?”

“Piss off,” Jono growled. “Ain’t no business of yours.”

“You so sure about that?” Grillby asked softly. The words were coolly said, as much as a fire Monster could manage in a place called Snowdin. “You've got an awfully big tab at my place for you to be thinking you can tell me what to do.”

That was a decent tweak to the balls and Jono faltered. They both damn well knew if Grillby called in his tab, he wouldn’t be able to pay it and the guard had no sympathy for those who couldn’t pay their debts. They wouldn’t give two shits if Grillby handled the problem himself and added Jono’s dust to the jarred collection sitting at the back of the bar as a reminder that debts were made to be paid.

Jono was a little too pissed to give in that easily. Fury burned in his eyes, twisted his face into an ugly sneer. He swung around and snarled, “These little brats stole from our place!”

That anger gave birth to violence. He aimed a kick at the bigger kid and the smaller one lunged in, crying out as it connected with his ribs instead of his brother’s prone body. A hasty Check showed his HP was getting dangerously low, kid probably already took a hit or two before Grillby showed up and damned if he’d ever seen anything like that before. Any sibling loyalty was pretty few and far between these days, hell, Jono was more likely to dust his brother himself than to keep anyone else from smacking him around. Grillby’s own little brother was snuffed years ago back in New Home when Grillby was a kid himself, fuck, those bright orange flames reduced to ash because he’d—

Stole from their place, right, the Bakery. The smashed cinnamon bunnies told the tale; little thieves trying to sneak off with shit that wasn’t theirs…exactly as Grillby had at their ages, only they’d gotten caught. Stupid kids, hungry kids, ah, fuck.

Memory blurred around reality and Grillby sighed inwardly as Jono reached down to grab up the smaller kid, probably to finish this off and before he could Grillby said hastily, “Let me take care of the problem. Call it a favor.”

At the word ‘favor’, Jono’s long ears perked up. He paused and gave Grillby a calculating, appraising look, weighing revenge against resources. “And if I do? What else do I get out of it?”

Say what you would about Jono, he was always on the lookout for a deal. Grillby considered it, ran a few mental numbers. “I’ll owe you a favor and I’ll knock fifteen percent off your tab.”

“Twenty,” he countered and Grillby kept back a bitter smile. He probably would’ve gone up to twenty-five, fucking idiot that he was, don’t get involved, that was all he had to do, and instead he’d waded right into the shit. Twenty was still a hard pill to swallow and that on top of owing this shitbag a favor.

“Deal,” Grillby said. Maybe he’d get lucky and Jono would get himself dusted before he could call his favor in.

Jono nodded curtly, gesturing at his cousins to follow him. “They’re yours.” He chuckled raucously as they slunk away back to the bakery, calling back, “Have fun.”

Grillby ignored that and crouched down to get a good look at what he was working with here. Huh. He hadn’t seen a skeleton Monster in fucking years, not since he was a kid himself. These two looked like they’d seen some rough times. The bigger kid had a nasty crack running through one of his sockets, obviously an old injury, the jagged edges looked healed over. The smaller kid was sporting plenty of fresh bruises from Jono’s little love taps and had a couple cracks of his own. Both of them were dressed in rags and filthy. This close Grillby could smell the stink of unwashed bodies and clothes even over the reek of the nearby garbage cans.

Tears were running from the younger kid’s sockets, the droplets of bright, unusual crimson gathering at his chin like a bouquet. Didn’t stop him from stubbornly standing in front of his brother despite the bigger kid trying feebly to push him back. A check of that kid made Grillby frown, how the fuck was the big kid even alive with a max of one HP? Well, now, this was getting kinda interesting.

But it wasn’t his business, never had been. He could still leave them here. Let them get back to scrounging out a living, plenty of overflowing trash cans in this alley for them to dig through. Might find a bag a chisps with some crumbs still in it or even the remains of a half-eaten burger from his place. He’d bought them some time and not cheaply, either. They’d either pull through or eventually someone would put them out of their misery. He could walk out of here with rule number two still tucked in his back pocket, a little bent, but unbroken.

Grillby looked at the filthy, wretched little urchins in the gutter and sighed aloud. “C’mon, kids, let’s go.”

He reached for them and the smaller skeleton bared some impressively sharp chompers, snapping at Grillby’s outstretched hand like one of the local pups. “I won’t let you hurt my brother!”

Yeah, that was enough of that. Grillby set a burning finger in the middle of the kid’s sternum and shoved, sending him sprawling back into the slush. “Gonna have to get a little bigger if you’re looking to play bodyguard and you ain’t gonna get the chance if you don’t come with me.”

“why, so you can get some cheap xp?” the bigger kid rasped out. He crawled painfully over to his brother and tried to help him to his feet. Neither of ‘em were making much progress but they were sure damn well trying.

“Unnamed Angel save me from today’s saints,” Grillby muttered under his breath, then louder, “Actually, I was gonna feed you, you ungrateful fucking brats. You can either come with me or stay here, but if you’re staying the only thing that’s happening is someone gets to shovel you off the sidewalk tomorrow. I’m betting there’s no one else out there to sprinkle your dust. Stay or go, it’s your call. Hurry up and make it.”

The brothers turned to look at each other and something about that stare, the unspoken communication, made Grillby’s magic perk up and crawl unpleasantly up his back. Weird fucking kids and he almost pulled the offer back, almost turned and walked right back out of the alley and the kids could have his abandoned groceries while he got the hell out of dodge. But before he could take so much as a step, both kids turned back to him, two pairs of crimson eye lights meeting his own gaze as the bigger kid announced, “we’ll go with you. for now.”

“Thank fuck,” Grillby muttered. Time was wasting and he wanted outta here before any other Buns came by looking for a deal. He stood and then got to watch with sour amusement as the little kid tried to help his brother to his feet. They got about halfway there then they both lost their balance, falling into a clattering heap back into the dirty snow. “Fuck’s sake, hold still.”

The bigger kid was shivering, that low HP of his probably made the cold even more miserable for him than it was for Grillby. He stripped off his jacket, hissing at the chill, wrapped both kids in it and scooped them up, telling himself that at least this way he didn’t have to touch their grimy bones. They wriggled in his arms and he almost dropped the little brats, but somehow they managed to settle, both of them peeking out from the depths of the coat.

“Comfortable?” Grillby asked dryly. They said nothing and he shrugged mentally, walking back out of the alley and snagging his groceries on the way. He didn’t linger, heading back to the bar with long, fast strides. Wherever these kids came from, they were his problem for a little while at least, and he’d feel better when they were safely inside. “You got names?”

“Yes.” One word in unison and not a cent more. It should have been irritating but Grillby found he was fighting the urge to laugh. That was the kind of shit Blaze would have pulled back in the day, when he and Grillby were living on the street…but Grillby snuffed that thought brutally.

Little brats, eh, he’d get some names out of them eventually. He carried them back to his place, already thinking of how he was gonna get the little brats in a bathtub without giving himself water rash. Rustle up something for them to wear that was better than the rags barely covering their bones and get some food for them, hm, burgers might be a little much on achingly empty souls eager for something to convert to magic, but soup might work or maybe some pasta. He’d figure out something.

Don’t get involved, that was the rule, and he'd always stuck to it. But if he was going to break the fucking thing, Grillby was gonna smash it good.

Fuck it. He'd never given a good shit about rules, anyway.

-finis

[rallamajoop]

Inception: A Fannish Retrospective

For a while now I’ve found myself craving a fic of a particular hard-to-define quality – something with a bit of grit and maturity – not graphic or grim, but perhaps the kind of seedy underworld setting you might find in the better parts of Tarantino or Guy Richie’s oeuvre. The kind of fic that lets me believe that if the author toned down the slash and published it as a mainstream crime or espionage thriller, I’d still be enthused about reading it. Cord Smithee’s work is a particularly good example, for the UNCLE fans out there, but you can only reread those fics so many times, and fic of that quality has been especially sparse in the last few fandoms I’ve drifted through, and so the craving lingered.

Then it hit me: hey, you know what fandom used to be really good for that kind of fic? Inception.

And after all this time in Venom fandom, it was hardly a big jump to more Tom Hardy, so.

Maybe the bigger wonder is that nearly ten years on, most of the fic is still just as good as I remember it being. Mirabella’s Towards Zero remains one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever read in any fandom, and delires’ chav!Eames AU is better than any idea that cracked has any goddamn right to be, and (at least as long as you’re into the juggernaut ship that is Arthur/Eames) you are spoilt for choice ­­for more.

But revisiting a fandom this much later and binging this much fic, you notice things. We’ll start with…

The Film

Still holds up on rewatching today. It will never be nearly as smart a film as I’ve seen some claim: totems, for one, make no fucking sense (they’re objects with details known only to you, but if Cobb can unintentionally bring a carbon copy of his wife into a dream, why not a top that falls over when spun? And why does it keep spinning indefinitely in dreams, anyway?), and for all the exposition on ‘kicks’, why the kicks need to be synchronised to work under sedation is woefully under-explained, to the point I’m always by distracted trying to make sense of it in the middle of the third act. (Do not even get me started on the ‘it’s actually about filmmaking!’ theory – the mental gymnastics required to explain how Yusuf or Mal fits in or why we’re so fixated on the importance of the set designer, of all roles, is laughable. Some of the parallels are moderately entertaining, but don’t try to tell me you’ve unlocked the secret meaning of the film – Inception is not a movie that makes you work that hard to find its main themes.)

But the film works despite its plotholes because it’s not, ultimately, a story driven by its mechanics: the endlessly spinning top may make no sense, but film is a visual medium, and it’s such a good visual gimmick it’s gets a pass. The practical stunts are still as impressive ever, but what really lifts Inception so far beyond your typical action/heist film – for me, at least – are the characters, and the huge emotional payoffs at the end. Fischer’s reconciliation with his father is no less moving for its falseness, “We did grow old together” has gotten a sniffle out of me time and again, and the final “We’ll be young men together” scene is wonderful in so many ways I could only dream there was the Cobb/Saito fic to live up to. It’s not for nothing I’ve got Inception mentally filed in my very short list of humanist action movies along with Mad Max: Fury Road, Terminator II, and precious few others.

And then there’s…

 The Fandom

Film fandoms are always an interesting beast, peaking as they do when the film is still in theatres, when most folks writing fic are working off imperfect memories of having seen an hour or two’s worth of canon maybe once or twice at most. Fanon can go feral in far less conducive environments, is my point here – inevitably, there’ll be the details that get analysed to death or flanderised to the point of parody, and the details that get altogether forgotten. Here’s just one example that hit me on a rewatch: I have lately read god knows how many different theories on just what it means that Arthur knew Eames was in Mombasa – none of them the least bothered by how everything in Cobb’s behaviour in that scene suggests he already knows exactly where he’s going, and may even be right now leaving to catch his flight. We could talk about the artefacts of clunky exposition being shoehorned into the dialogue, or the actual intent of that exchange, but shipper-goggles give you some powerful tunnel-vision (and I say this as someone who ships it like burning).

Binge as much fic as fast as I have in the last few months, and you begin to notice trends. Common themes and popular fanon that have ascended to gospel, and facets of the original film I’d love to see explored that fandom seems to have collectively missed altogether (and the sad lack of decent Cobb/Saito is only one). Below, in no particular order, are some of those observations.

Since most of these come across as critical, I want to emphasise that I have had a ball revisiting the fic in this fandom, and there are probably multiple fics guilty of everything I touch on below which I have loved to bits. It’s only the repetition that really starts to make you sit up and notice.

1.       The Cobb-bashing, oh my god the Cobb-bashing! I had forgotten just how much this fandom hates Cobb. In the film, Cobb’s plan is the only reason Arthur and Eames ever end up in the same room at all – yet in fanfic, Cobb has been recast as the only thing keeping them apart. I’m not kidding there – fic with that exact premise is almost its own genre. In Inception fanon, Cobb is crazy and cares only about himself, and Arthur has wasted years of misplaced loyalty keeping him alive. Fanon!Eames hates Cobb for monopolising Arthur’s attention (in the film, Eames seems underwhelmed to learn Cobb is still working with Arthur at all). Fanon!Eames only works with Cobb at all because it’s an excuse to work with Arthur (in the film, they’re barely capable of having a civil conversation). Fanon!Eames never forgives Cobb for concealing the level of sedation they were under Inception job, and nor does Arthur (in the film, no-one even mentions Cobb’s deception after they leave the first level, and Eames’ main disappointment at the end is that he won’t get to see the Fischers’ big reconciliation, but why let that douse a good hateboner?) Meanwhile, Yusuf’s corresponding betrayal and Arthur’s equally-disastrous research-fail are rarely referenced. It’s not every fic, but the base level of Cobb-hate around these parts is pretty astounding. There’s nothing new about fans bashing the main character for having the gall to take screentime away from their OTP, and I’d be the last to play down Cobb’s real failings. But when one finds oneself tempted to leave enthusiastic comments on decade-old fic, praising the author for giving Cobb a minor scene or two where he gets to be a total bro to Arthur for a change… I promise you, it’s not me, it’s this fandom.

2.       For all that Eames is basically the single biggest reason I’m reading in this fandom, his fanon characterisation leaves something to be desired. I do get the appeal of flirty!Eames or pining!Eames – it’s just that once in a while, you find yourself longing for fic about the guy who was actually in the movie – y’know, the one who’s first response to Arthur’s name was, “Arthur? Are you still working with that stick-in-the-mud?” I am totally down with the idea he was feigning indifference– maybe for Cobb’s benefit, maybe he’s actively in denial himself, whatevs. But fanon!Eames characterisation typically ranges from “hopelessly in love with Arthur from the moment they met” to “a walking sexual harassment lawsuit in action,” and neither of those guys could convincingly feign indifference to save their lives. It’s also a shame we don’t see more of the side of Eames that got so genuinely, unashamedly invested in what they were doing for Fischer – quite beyond the money and the prestige, Eames loves that they get to fix Fischer’s relationship with his father and reveal Browning as the rat that he is, and it’s a wonderfully humanising side to such a shady character. There should be so much scope in there to cast Eames was a guy with a real idealistic streak, or more conscience than he’d usually admit to, or just an abiding love for melodrama – the possibilities go on and on (and if you can’t think of a dozen ways to tie any of those in as fuel for his rivalry with Arthur for bonus shippy fodder, you aren’t even trying). But that part of Eames never does seem to have found a place in the fandom’s collective headcanon, because hell if I can find any exploration of it in fic, le sigh. (Cynically, I have to wonder if it’s because it clashes with the fanon where Eames spent the Inception job furiously hating Cobb and focused on Arthur, but even that seems somewhat lacking as an answer. Who even knows?)

3.       As a corollary to the above, remarkably few fics make any attempt to deal with the fact that Arthur and Eames a) basically hate each other, b) for reasons that do not entirely revolve around how Arthur won’t put out. Obviously, this is a ‘hate’ that covers a much deeper well of underlying respect, but these are two guys who only stop taking potshots at each other when they’re being shot at for real, and to me that is 95% of the fun of the pairing – why does no-one even seem to try to recreate that dynamic in fic? Even 99% of Eames’ infamous ‘flirting’ would be better described as him pulling Arthur’s pigtails. Yet virtually no-one seems to want to tackle their antipathy head-on – even fic that acknowledges it as a past phase of their relationship isn’t set during that phase. I’m all for seeing them eventually end up friendlier, but you’ve got to show me how they get there first – that’s the good bit! Why does everyone skip over it? :((((

4.       This fandom has SUCH a thing for underage!Arthur. Fics will go on and on about how young he looks, or theorise that he was actually underaged when he first got into dreamshare, or at least looked it. Seriously, the idea of Eames having mistaken Arthur for a teen when they first met is, like, the accepted pan-fandom headcanon as to why they don’t get on (unless we’re in military-backstory land, in which case it’s that Arthur had to deal with Eames hitting on him during the time of DADT). Then there are the many (MANY) AUs where Arthur really is a teen, hitting on the much-older Eames – there’s that one semi-parody where even twenty-something!Arthur gets cockblocked by his own looks, and there’s even at least one that flips things so that Eames the one who was underage when they met, just for variety.

It’s a real Thing, and I only wish I understood where it comes from, since (to me) Arthur has always looked like the 29yo man JGL legitimately was back when Inception hit screens – I don’t think he’d even passed as a Hollywood!teen for a solid half a decade at that point. So… are there really that many people who thought JGL looked that young when the film came out, or is this just one of those fannish meme things? I may never know.

5.       No-one (by which I mean almost no-one) gets how limbo works. Fic after fic treats it as basically just a garden-variety coma, and colleagues can spend days or months moving the victim, gathering a team and planning a complex rescue. Rarely is it ever remembered the whole point of limbo is that you can age and die trapped in your own mind in no more than hours in the real world. When Eames talks about being ‘trapped in limbo until our brains turn to scrambled egg’, I think it’s safe to assume he’s being pretty literal. Basically, if you’re not treating limbo as the temporal equivalent of the Total Perspective Vortex, you’re probably doing it wrong.

6.       No-one does anything interesting with Ariadne. This, I have some sympathy for: it’s hard to know where to go with someone who ends the film where she does – her push-pull relationship with the world of illegal dreamshare is not a contradiction that can be easily resolved in a subplot, if at all. But the Ariadne who so quickly had Cobb picked as a loose canon never seems to appear in fic either, and nor does the Ariadne with the guts to sneak into his dream to find answers, or the prodigy whose last-minute moment of inspiration saved the whole job. No, Inception fic is more likely to give you an Ariadne who giggles and drags her teammates out partying than any of that, which is absurd to the point of being genuinely offensive. Seriously, that is some A-grade “all we remembered about her is that she’s female”-bullshit. Even when she’s not saddled with OOC giggle fits, fic!Ariadne also remains frustrating static: years after the film, she’ll still be doing extractions with the Inception team, despite seeming no more at home in their world. Where’s the Ariadne who embraces the underworld wholeheartedly and reaches Arthur or Cobb levels of badassery? The Ariadne whose natural gifts and overconfidence get her into Cobb-levels of trouble? Who takes the Inception job as inspiration to go into therapeutic uses of dreams? Who finds legitimate dream-related work through Miles or Saito, but still lets the old team drag her back into extractions every once in a while (because she’s easily one of the most reliable architects in the whole shady business, and there’s a part of her that still kind of loves it)? WHERE?

The obvious rejoinder to all this is that it’s hardly surprising Ariadne doesn’t get much play when you’re mostly reading Arthur/Eames fic. So (because the land of fic is still terrible at cataloguing character-specific gen) I had a dig through some Arthur/Ariadne fic for comparison – only to run into much the same frustrations all over again. No-one takes her character anywhere very interesting.

So you can imagine my surprised delight when I tried a couple of Arthur/Ariadne/Eames fics on a whim, and almost immediately found not one but two different stories willing to dive headfirst into the questions surrounding Ariadne’s future in the world of illegal dreamshare (plus multiple stories which made a very convincing case that Ariadne should absolutely celebrate their successful Inception by having a threesome with her colleagues, I mean, damn).

I have absolutely no idea what it says about fandom that I had to go looking at threesome fic to find real character development, but at this point, I’ll take it.

7.       So, I get why everyone reads Eames as queer (duh), but having discovered two quite excellent straight!Eames fic (which is to say, fic which utterly sells the idea that Eames considers himself straight or had no experience with men until long after meeting Arthur), the fact no equivalent seems to exist for Arthur baffles me. Sure, there’s one or two stories where one smile from Eames is about all it takes to make him change his mind, and one great kink meme fill that might have been just what I was looking for if it had ever been finished. But otherwise, the idea that Arthur (a guy who snogs Ariadne and is given no other obvious sexuality) -- the same Arthur whom every other fic portrays as seriously emotionally repressed – the idea this guy might not be experienced and comfortable dating men just… doesn’t seem to have occurred to anyone. Which is so weird.

Is there not enough RL evidence that Tom Hardy can and does make straight guys reconsider their preferences? Is the idea of an Arthur who’s repressed that side of his own sexuality not a juicy enough explanation for the tension between them? How on earth did we wind up with a fandom where Eames is more likely to be the designated “straight” one at the start of the story than Arthur? The mind boggles.

Holy shit, you’re still reading? Damn! Have some more recs as thanks for listening to me ramble at so much length.

Recs!

Here’s those two from the top again, because I really do love them that much

We Can Do This Until We Pass Out by delires Disturbing London, baby, we about to branch out. (The one where Eames is a chav)

Towards Zero by Mirabella Five levels down, and five to dig yourself back out.  Arthur met Eames' projection long before he met Eames.

Where the Dead Live also by Mirabella There's a monster in Arthur's basement.  Maybe he shouldn't have invited it in. It’s the vampire!Apocalypse, and this one is intense. Utterly brilliant, but equally unapologetic about the implications of its premise. So, for a somewhat-lighter take on monster!Eames, I will also throw in:

Cthonical’s demon!Eames verse Unfinished -- arguably never even properly started, just a series of ficlets from a ‘verse that never quite got written, but they are scorching hot and still well worth a look.

That’s a lot of darker fic though, probably time to lighten the mood a little.

Anal [Inception] aka Not Now Cobb We're Doing BGs also by cthonical Arthur and Eames both play WoW. They kick ass at Warsong Gulch, and when they team up they’re nigh on unstoppable.They don’t know they’re playing with each other.

Champion Sound by pyrimidine Prompt: Arthur is a DJ, Eames is a bartender.

London Bridge by sorrynotsorry Arthur loves whiskey, and maybe strippers. 

My two favourite Arthur/Eames/Ariadne fics

How to Cure Insomnia by wonderfulwrites When she called Arthur for advice on how to deal with the unexpected insomnia - okay, fine, on the pretense of asking for advice – she hadn’t expected to have to wade through a sea of bodies to see him. But then, she also hadn’t expected Eames’s cheerful but surprising, Just come, Ariadne. You can sleep when you’re dead.  Or Eames, at all, really. The Wind on the Mountain by Starlingthefool Something in her rebels against this casual, passive seduction. God knows why, but she’s sitting up in the water, taking her foot back from Eames and dislodging Arthur’s hands from her back. She stands, wet underwear clinging ridiculously to her, and says to Arthur, “All right. Your turn.”

Aaand let’s have a few more straight Arthur/Eames to round it out.

Untitled and Untitled, redux by Helenish -- two variants on a theme, and do not let the lack of proper titles put you off, they’re both great.

Unexpected Plot Twist by ethrosdemon Post-Inception -- long and (as promised) twisty, and a very solid read.

Four Corners by Mithrigil In Eames’ line of work, a first impression means nearly everything. It’s always a pity when he doesn’t get off on the right foot.

Kiss With A Fist  by cmonkatiekatie Because apparently, to find real Arthur/Eames antagonism, I have to go looking for hate sex. (Not complaining, this is some amazing hate sex.)

And also basically Everything by Wiltling There’s a darker vibe to their work, but it rarely gets oppressive -- just generally a lot of great fic.