Kimi: Don’t cry, Gage!
Gage: Wasn’t going to.
Kimi: That’s ‘cause you are very strong.
Gage: No, it’s because I care very little about people.
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Proctor Quinlan, suspicious: Spoken like a true criminal mastermind, you vile creature.
Kimi: Thank you.
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The Ballad of Elle Douglas, Chapter 105
See Chapter 1 for Whole Work Summary
Chapter 105
Chapter Summary: Elle considers.
Whole Work Rating: Explicit
Whole Work Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death (described in detail), Rape/Non-Con (implied threat of)
Category: F/M, Gen
Fandom: Fallout 4
Chapter Word Count: 4.7k
Whole Work Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor (Main Pairing), Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Edward Deegan/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready & Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor & Nick Valentine, Arthur Maxson & Sole Survivor, Deacon & Sole Survivor, Preston Garvey & Sole Survivor, Sturges & Sole Survivor, Mama Murphy & Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor/Sole Survivor’s Spouse, Father | Shaun & Sole Survivor, Synth Shaun & Sole Survivor
Whole Work Characters: John Hancock, Sole Survivor/Original Female Character, Paladin Danse, Edward Deegan, Nick Valentine, Robert Joseph MacCready, Arthur Maxson, Preston Garvey, Mama Murphy, Father | Shaun, Deacon, Elle Douglas (oc)
Additional Tags and Excerpt Under the Cut
[[MORE]]Additional Tags: Commonwealth Minutemen, No Beta We Die Like Kellogg, Porn With Plot, Smut, Monogamy, Multiple Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Drama, Romance, Action/Adventure, Pining, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Found Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Hancock is Endgame, Break Up, Child Death
_________________
Elle had gotten her fair share of odd looks from the Neighborhood Watch in the Old State House’s halls, lugging bucket after bucket of steaming, boiling water to the small main floor bathroom. By the end of her toils she had been red-faced, sweating, gasping and coughing. That said, as she sunk into the nearly-boiling bath (immediately reddening in the near-boiling water that was tempered by only the slightest amount of cold), the embarrassment felt more than worth it.
On a crate next to the rusting tub sat her meagre toiletries, a can of water, a bottle of room temperature Gwinnett Pale, and a bodice-ripper Hancock had fished out of a dumpster the last time they’d been through the streets surrounding the public library.
Hancock was upstairs, and a steady stream of petitioners had been in and out of his office all day. He had promised to attend to the many grievances and requests of the townsfolk that had built up as he’d traveled with Elle. It was an event that was a long time coming, and promised to take up most of the that day, as well as having taken up all of the day before. The meetings left Elle with hours of downtime, and she’d used it deliciously unwisely: sleeping in, picking up her newly-suppressed rifle, wandering around; and now intending to soak and breathe steam in the tiny bathroom until sunset.
She hoped that the steam would help with her coughing, which had started in earnest since returning to Goodneighbor. She assumed there was something in the air - maybe some dust or mould that had been stirred up by the recent and unprecedented opening and closing of the State House windows - that was getting her, and figured a nice hot soak would help clear it. The steamy bathroom seemed to be doing just that, leaving her breathing easily, so Elle mostly focused on relaxation.
She settled into the bath and let her taut muscles unwind in the heated water. The door was locked against the rest of the world, and in the light of the one singular high-set window it was just Elle, her beer, and the adventures of Lady Slentifren and Fredericke the well-endowed stablehand.
It was exactly what she needed.
Eventually, after about the fiftieth set of sensually heated glances exchanged by the main pair (their love being forbidden due to both the differences in their social status and the impending marriage of Slentifren to an evil King with such a consonant-laden name that Elle couldn’t even begin to sound out in her head), Elle set the book aside with a chuckle and slid downwards in the tub, submerging her neck and chin, bending at the knees.
Her shoulders, which had picked up a peculiar habit tensing at random, slowly began to unkink in the steaming water. She skimmed her palm flat across the near-scalding surface, enjoying the path her hand made through the scrim of soap bubbles.
She closed her eyes, breathing the steamy air even deeper into her lungs.
Images rolled past the red membrane of her eyelids as she turned her head up toward the window: crushing Arthur Maxson against the railing in the Observation Deck, Shaun seated with his back to her as she padded out of his room, the Prydwen collapsing in columns of fire onto the airport below, three silhouetted figures with the airport ablaze behind them, the Synth child standing in the corner of a glass room with his chin resting on his chest.
There were other things as well, small images intercutting between the large ones as the thoughts rolled on: a redheaded young woman cleaning the Institute’s infirmary, Nick Valentine smoking under a slanted piece of sheet metal to stay dry in the rain, Hancock’s big black eyes pulsing with terror, Emmett-who-had-become-Smokey being stuffed into a bag by a pair of metal gloves.
Elle pictured herself lying on the beach, encased in steel but still burned beyond recognition in spite of that fact, her chest failing to rise and fall.
She sighed.
It was odd, but she found herself much more concerned with the practical matters of Shaun and the Institute, rather than her brief brush with death.
Unfortunately, she was the only one who seemed to feel that way. Death hung in the air around her, trailing after her like a stench. Word traveled fast in Goodneighbor. Hancock, while having had the best reason out of anyone to assume she was dead, was not the only person who had assumed it. Elle garnered surprised looks and judgmental faces everywhere she went, which would have been fine - except where Hancock was concerned. She often caught him studying her intently, as though he were trying to reassure himself she were real.
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The Ballad of Elle Douglas, Chapter 104
See Chapter 1 for Whole Work Summary
Chapter 104
Chapter Summary: Elle dreams of the sea.
Whole Work Rating: Explicit
Whole Work Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death (described in detail), Rape/Non-Con (implied threat of)
Category: F/M, Gen
Fandom: Fallout 4
Chapter Word Count: 2.9k
Whole Work Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor (Main Pairing), Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Edward Deegan/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready & Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor & Nick Valentine, Arthur Maxson & Sole Survivor, Deacon & Sole Survivor, Preston Garvey & Sole Survivor, Sturges & Sole Survivor, Mama Murphy & Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor/Sole Survivor’s Spouse, Father | Shaun & Sole Survivor, Synth Shaun & Sole Survivor
Whole Work Characters: John Hancock, Sole Survivor/Original Female Character, Paladin Danse, Edward Deegan, Nick Valentine, Robert Joseph MacCready, Arthur Maxson, Preston Garvey, Mama Murphy, Father | Shaun, Deacon, Elle Douglas (oc)
Additional Tags and Excerpt Under the Cut
[[MORE]]Additional Tags: Commonwealth Minutemen, No Beta We Die Like Kellogg, Porn With Plot, Smut, Monogamy, Multiple Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Drama, Romance, Action/Adventure, Pining, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Found Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Hancock is Endgame, Break Up, Child Death
_________________
“Are we alone now?” Elle asked. She snuggled her arm under Hancock’s, digging her shoulder into his ribs in an attempt to get closer.
Oddly, she felt somewhat calm.
Despite the terrifying information that Hancock given her (icy fingers around her hammering heart), a much more pressing matter had been solved: Hancock felt like Hancock again.
As they’d straightened up from their positions lying on his couch, he’d complained when she’d put her clothes back on and made several lewd comments about the mess on the cushions. Perhaps most importantly, he once again couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she was encircled in two enthusiastic-if-not-slightly-skinny arms.
On that front at least, Elle couldn’t have been more relieved. Hancock’s general enthusiasm for their connection, whether it was their friendship or their romance, had so frequently been her safe harbor. Having it back was more than enough, for right then.
The rest, she assumed she’d have time to think about later.
Elle flicked the ash from the post-sex cigarette she’d taken from Hancock’s pack to humor him, and waited for his reply.
“The ghost ain’t in here now, if that’s what you’re asking.” The words that came out of Hancock’s mouth were slow and careful, an interesting contrast to the fingers that were still tangled lustily in her hair.
“It was,” Elle said, gasping softly as Hancock pulled her head backward, stretching out her neck. He leaned over, trying to nip at it with his teeth.
Elle pushed him away with her free hand, holding her cigarette up and out of the way. “Hey,” she chastised him, “cut it out. I’m trying to smoke here.”
Chuckling lowly, he gave up his pursuit of her neck and pulled her close, pulling her cheek tight against his shoulder.
Despite how normal Hancock was acting, Elle could still hear the way his chuckle died in his throat as he settled down again, plus the click of a pained swallow.
She resolved to keep an eye on him; imagining that whatever had happened while she was gone likely wouldn’t be fixed with one - admittedly excellent - roll in the hay.
Hancock cleared his throat. “I’m worried it’ll come back,” he said quietly, airing his concerns out as though she’d been thoughtful enough to actually ask.
Elle nodded, taking a small, careful drag of the stale cigarette between her fingers. Then, she coughed lightly. Hancock held the ashtray up to her, so she could tap the ash off the end without having to move.
An idea formed then, dropping from Elle’s brain into her mouth perfunctorily - a cat being caught on the counter and deposited onto the floor without even a scolding. “Maybe you should take the Addictol,” she replied, the idea now leaping from her mouth and into her lap.
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Maxson: Hey, this is America!
Kimi; who is from Japan: The seventeenth smartest country in the world!
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Sole: Why is Deacon dressed up like a doctor?
Deacon , wearing surgical scrubs and a fake mustache: I’m in disguise.
Hancock: And they’re not a doctor, they’re a dentist.
Sole: Why?
Deacon: ‘Cause I’m not smart enough to be a doctor.
Hancock: You’re not smart enough to grow a mustache.
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Hancock, planning a rager as Danse is going to the hospital: Stay as long as you can. Even if it takes the whole weekend. People rarely recover before Saturday night.
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Crossover!
Synth Bros in Undertale
(久々にアンテAU動画みたのでクロスオーバーAU的なアレ
プロトタイプ兄弟💘💾って親和性高そうだな…と思いました。
人間の心を持った機械。
カルマ背負っていけ。)
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you can see the way i started pondering about the fact that danse has a baby bottle in his quarters 😭
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New oc dropped and he’s the combination of my love for Valentine and Hancock. Welcome into my flock of ocs Cupid.