An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Hoxton | James "Jim" Hoxworth/Wolf | Ulf
Characters: Hoxton | James "Jim" Hoxworth, Wolf | Ulf
Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Character Study, That accidentally happened in the writing process, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Mental Health Issues, Inaccurate perceptions of mental health issues, Post Hoxton Breakout, Pre-Hoxton Revenge, Facial Shaving, Dancing, Getting Together, Paranoia, Regret, Signs of untreated PTSD, Smoking, facial dysmorphia, selective mutism, Roommates, and they were ROOMMATES, multiple POVs, Mutual Attraction, Feelings Realization, Living Together, Nicknames, Comfort, This fic is softer than it sounds I swear
Summary:
Panic is loud music that drowns the mind. Paranoia whispers and lurks.
But love? Love is a soft sound that’s easy to dance to.
Of course no matter the emotions being felt, Hoxton and Wolf still need to shave. Personal hygiene is still important, no matter any feelings discovered along the way.
-
So I did some WolfHox, I swear it’s soft
Once again love to thank @existentialcrisisetcetera for beta’ing this for me ^u^
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Bain (Payday) & Duke | August Lindenhurst
Characters: Duke | August Lindenhurst, Bain (Payday), Dallas | Nathan Steele
Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Kinda, Canonical Character Death, self discovery, Exploration of sexuality, Kissing, The one time it isn't gay to kiss the homies, Asexual Duke, Biromantic Duke, Bisexual Bain, Implied ADHD Bain, Inaccurate perceptions of Sexuality, Pre-Canon, Post canon, We start Pre but end Post, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, It's mostly in the background though, Depression Grief/Mourning, Platonic Kisses, That tag makes sense I swear, Queerplatonic Bain & Duke, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Loyalty, Bittersweet Ending, Purple Prose
Summary:
Kisses are not always romantic. Sometimes they meant to welcome, to honor, or to deal-make.
And sometimes they are a greetings with hidden meaning.
A reference to a time long gone, an unsaid commitment, and the unique understanding that came with it.
(: I did a thing (:
Big thanks to @commence-screaming for beta’ing
Also @existentialcrisisetcetera for letting me use their cat Pablo, it’ll make sense if you read the fic.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Bain (Payday)/Dallas | Nathan Steele
Characters: Bain (Payday), Dallas | Nathan Steele
Additional Tags: Blood and Injury, Terminal Illnesses, Angst, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension, Minor Possessiveness, Pining, Cuddling, Physical hurt/comfort, But Not Emotional, Possible can be read as Canon Compliant, Inspired by Music, Minor Injuries, Post Hell's Island Heist, Pre-White House Heist, Lack of Communication
Summary:
They would never be able to ever speak about these moments. But Bain would know that it was these moments that made him think of Dallas and only Dallas.
Even as his body caves in with the world around him.
And for my next trick I will write Shipping Angst!
Once again I thank @existentialcrisisetcetera for being a lovely beta
The streets were quiet. Few people were about at this late hour, though they did see a few carriages rumble along the lane. They were almost to his house when Charles stopped, grabbing Pierre by the arm. "Pierre," Charles asked, dropping the formalities for a moment.
"What is it pisspot?" Bellec asked arching a brow. Charles glanced up at the window, there was a light still on. He'd have to talk with the governess later, about allowing Arno to stay up so late. "Charlie?" Bellec asked. Charles Dorian looked at Bellec then.
"If… If I were to fall," Charles began, "please take care of Arno."
"You… you want me to take care of your boy?" Bellec asked, balking at the responsibility of minding the curious young boy. "You won't die, Charlie," Bellec said patting Charles on the back. "So, don't even think about such things. Besides, I'm sure Marie will see sense and come back any day now."
"It's been six years since she left," Charles said, his tone bitter and heartbroken. "I've accepted reality Pierre; Marie is never coming back to France… back to me."
Bellec didn't know what to say to that; he remained silent. "Arno's a good boy," Bellec finally said.
"He's curious as a cat," Charles chuckled, thinking of his son. "But you're dodging the issue, Pierre. I want you to be his guardian if anything should happen to me. Marie was right… what I'm doing is dangerous… I could die and then who will take care of my son?"
"You're worried about the exchange tomorrow," Bellec said, realizing why Charles had brought up this suddenly. "Is that what this is about? That damn exchange happening at the palace tomorrow?"
"Part of it," Charles said.
"You're worrying too much pisspot," Bellec said. "It's a simple exchange. Even if the Assassin is English, nothing horrible is going to happen. Just keep it close and once you leave the palace head straight for the Sanctuary and give it to the Mentor."
"I know," Charles muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I'm probably worrying for nothing, but still," he fixed Bellec with a stare, "promise me you'll look after Arno."
"You aren't going to let me go unless I give you my solemn oath, eh?" Bellec asked with a chuckle. Charles quirked a brief smile. "Alright," he said, "I swear to you Charles, that if anything happened, I'll take in Arno. Raise him as my own."
"Thank you," Charles said, patting Bellec on the shoulder. "I'm sure nothing will befall me, but I'll sleep more soundly knowing Arno will be cared for if something does."
"Fair enough," Bellec said. He bade Charles good night, slipping into the shadows as the young nobleman entered his house. Bellec hoped that Charles fears were unfounded.
The news was a crushing blow. Charles Dorian dead. The Precursor Box stolen. Bellec couldn't believe it. It was supposed to be a routine transfer. They had been exchanging the box for decades this way. How did the Templars find Charles? Which Templar killed him? "Arno…" Bellec whispered as he stared at the table. He was in Paris, he had to get to Versailles and find Arno. "What about Arno?" he asked.
"Who?" the Mentor asked.
"Arno Dorian! Charles' son, what became of him?" Bellec asked. The Mentor shrugged.
"Nobody knows, the boy's gone," the Mentor said. Bellec swore and stood up. "Where do you think you're going Pierre?" the Mentor asked as Bellec began to walk off.
"I'm going to Versailles to find Arno," Bellec snapped and left the council chamber.
The journey to Versailles was a swift one, Bellec feared he'd kill the horses he rode, forcing them to gallop until they were exhausted then getting a fresh beast at the first inn he came upon. He went to Charles' house in Versailles, but the ownership had already been transferred to someone else, all of Charles' staff gone into the wind. He stopped at the Versailles Sanctuary but none of the assassins there could tell him where Arno had gone.
Bellec turned his attention to the street children, the orphans and the peasants' brats. He asked around, describing Arno as best he could. They shook their heads, asking their friends if they had seen a boy that matched the description. Nothing. Bellec swore colorfully and spun around nearly running into a man. "I'm sorry, Monsieur," Bellec muttered bowing a little bit. The man sniffed.
"You should be," the nobleman said, "you should watch where you are going next time. Olivier, come!" the nobleman said.
"Boy," the nobleman's butler shouted, snapping his fingers. A boy jerked away from some apples for sale and trotted up to the butler. Bellec did a double take, thinking the boy looked like Arno, but decided against it. Arno was a nobleman's son; he would be dressed in finery not servant's clothes. Bellec sighed, walking along, cursing himself for leaving Versailles that fateful morning.
Bellec headed towards the graveyard that morning. He found Charles' grave. Name, date of birth and death etched into the stone, the Dorian family crest emblazon at the top. Bellec placed flowers over his friend's grave. "I'm sorry Charles," Bellec whispered, "I failed. I… I lost Arno." Bellec sighed, "I hope wherever he is, that he is safe and grows up to avenge you… one day."
