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babygirl-coded · 1 year

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ROT AND SIN

a little john seed x reader drabble because i had to get this out of my head!

[ warnings : third pov , non-gendered reader , use of ‘you’ , no y/n , mature content – violence and swearing ]

wc : 1.5k

synopsis : the collapse arrived. joseph was right. despite it all , the seed family survived. like a sympathetic family would to an abandoned dog , they took you in. they want to love you but first you must learn to love them.

“Let me go, you sick bastards !”

You clawed , heaved and struggled against the binds that held you down. The rope began to burn deep, red marks on your skin but you weren’t phased. You were forced to familiarise yourself with those kind of scars. You shuddered. Jacob’s trials. Jacob’s tests. It was his way of twisting and controlling you like a puppet , keeping you as a prisoner , locked inside your own mind.

Sick bastards.

The others were worse. Whereas Jacob laid you on a straight , blunt path toward whatever he wanted , the others were different. Faith and John fucked with you the most with their mind-games. Hallucinations of hazy fields and a barefoot woman — no — siren — and a lawyer with an insatiable appetite for the macabre.

Jesus, John.

With a smile and all , he was the one who tied you up to one of the bed frames. John decided to place you on the cold cement floor at the foot of the bed , out of reach within just about anything. The room was empty spare for the bed and a chair. There were no weapons , no blunt objects , nothing to defend yourself with. Nowhere to escape to.

“The idea isn’t to be comfortable. It’s to suffer. It’s what you deserve,” John had muttered when you first cried out as the rope tightened around your limbs. He had stretched the rope around and around and around your bound wrists and ankles almost frantically , maniacally , ignoring your pitiful cries until Joseph laid a strong hand on his shoulder, whispering a quiet , “no”.

Sick fucking bastards.

The door to the room wasn’t shut. It never was. You thanked god for that ; you don’t think you could have handled the isolation and the chance for loneliness to come creeping in. Even if you were chained up like a dirty starved dog , you were grateful you hadn’t died.

Yet you weren’t sure who exactly you felt grateful for. Joseph? For saving you? Or God?

Yourself?

“Don’t be shy. Make yourself at home.”

You hadn’t heard him step past the threshold at all. That smug grin of his was the first to enter your field of vision. His mindless followers would have said it was warm and inviting. Charming , even. Yet all he brought was a chill down your aching spine , and an air of terrible , horrible dread into the already morbid room. He grabbed a rickety , old chair that sat in the corner , brought it closer to you and down settled onto it.

“You could have at least put me on the bed , John,” you protested calmly.

He wagged a finger and tutted, like an owner reprimanding their bad dog. His fingernails were caked with dirt and blood , grime coated his flesh like a second skin and a nasty gash could be seen despite it being poorly bandaged up. All you could think about for the next few seconds was taking a big chunk off it, fingernails and all.

“The bed is reserved for when you show me that you have manners.” He casually leaned back into the chair and obnoxiously spread his legs. It groaned under the weight of him. “Be good , won’t you?”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “For you or for Joseph?” You pondered , “Or maybe Jacob?”

John snarled and lurched forward. He took your braid into his hand, wrapped it around his fingers and pulled it back. Hard. Your head snapped backwards and your back arched. You cried out as sharp pains burned away at your scalp. Fire licked along your bent spine. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip hard enough for a small trickle of blood to trail over your cracked lips. Tears pricked at your lower lids, threatening to spill over … and they did.

He hummed , still prodding and scratching and pulling at your hair almost as if it soothed something inside of him. It probably did. John leaned forward until his lips rested on the shell of your ear. He spoke in hushed whispers , “Being a sarcastic, tough-as-nails hero isn’t going to serve you any purpose here , Rook,” he spat out. “This isn’t Hope County. There isn’t one anymore. Down here is the future. Our future.” He trembled. You heard it, felt it. He struggled to hold himself together.

You thrashed around in his grip , tried to claw at his battered jeans. “It’s been … what? Only a few days and you’re already losing it , John?” You seethed. “Pathetic bastard.”

John grew still and silent. The tugging and pulling stopped. After a beat, the hold on your hair slowly loosened. A throbbing ache settled on your poor scalp. John leaned back , taking you with him and pulled you in even closer to his body. You groaned as your back left its contorted position but you were now forced to kneel — your hands bound behind your back and head resting on his lap. The scent of earth , wet moss and soft fragrance made your head spin. He started to pet your tangled hair in slow , languid strokes.

He laughed softly. “Days? It’s been months!”

It was your turn to be quiet , now. Months? Has it really been that long? How many months? Was John telling the truth or was he lying straight through his teeth? He’s certainly capable of that. Or was this Jacob’s doing? Is he the one who’s trying to mentally break you again? Fuck. You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything. You don’t even know when you last ate , had a sip of water , saw the light of day.

John broke through your silence. “Don’t tell me you lost the plot already?” He sighed. “I’d be so disappointed.”

“Liar,” you whispered. His embrace was beginning to feel constrictive even though he held you so gently. The room spun around you. Black and blue swirled into a blur. Smells of dust and iron and a sickly sweet scent that you couldn’t put your finger on had bile rising up your throat. “You’re lying!”

He shushed you like a parent would silence their insolent child. “And what do I have to gain from that , mh? I’ve never lied to you —“

“Bullshit!”

“— I’ve only ever told you the truth. What you needed to hear , what you wanted to hear. And it worked , didn’t it?”

John tilted your head upright so that it was no longer resting on his lap. You met his gaze. Blue met brown and you hated what you felt ; there was that twang of desire and attraction you harboured towards him that you tried so hard to hide. It clawed to the surface as he brushed back a few stray curls that framed your face. You despised him yet craved his gentle touch. This shameful connection you so desperately longed for had you curling into yourself.

As always , John noticed. He reveled in your feelings of conflict. He didn’t want you to cower away from him and you hated this position he forced you in. You felt small and insignificant compared to him. It infuriated you that he had this much power. He was allowed to hold his head high while you could only grovel for the scraps he fed you.

He smiled softly. “I carve. I cut. I speak. But I don’t tell any lies. Lies are dirty,” he pressed the tips of his fingers roughly into your bloodied lips and his smile fell , “lies are sin.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between his lips and eyes. You spoke softly but tried your best to speak with conviction , “I don’t believe in God. Sin means nothing to me.”

Sin.

That three letter word. Your’s was wrath , according to John. Then it became pride. Sin got you into this country's backyard , sack-of-shit mess. It had you running ‘round like a lunatic. Killing cultists , drugged up angels, bears , cougars. It had you trying (and failing) to kill a certain bastard lawyer.

“You don’t have to believe in God. You just have to believe in him,” John replied.

“Like hell,” you cursed through gritted teeth. “You put me through a shit storm of religious fuckery and nuclear apocalypses , and you really think after all that I’d follow you?”

He shrugged. “That’s what I hoped for.” The attraction you held for him earlier quickly dwindled into resentment. Bastard. That ugly , insane , manipulative asshole. John rested his hands on your shoulder and squeezed. “Jacob had you. Joseph almost got you. I want you. All you need to say is yes. Say it.”

The tears fell freely now , you couldn’t see through it. Your lashes were wet and the man in front of you distorted into a blur. Anger flared in your veins. It was always going to come back to this and you refused to accept it or him.

You shook your head , “I won’t.”

John nodded solemnly then suddenly rose up from the chair. You roughly fell back onto your hunches and cringed when you felt a bone pop out place and quickly pop back in. John chuckled dryly , turned his back on you , dusted his jeans off and sauntered to the door. His hand hovered over the door handle and for the first time since you’ve been held captive in this bunker , you were certain. You knew.

The door would be closed and you’d be shut out once more , being forced to suffer in darkness.

“You don’t want to learn. You don’t want to have faith. Your sin stops you from reaching atonement. You will never be free,” John said over his shoulder. “For that , you must sit and rot in your sin. Let it fester and bubble until it burns you , until you’re aching. Call for me when you’re ready. Only then can you atone. Only then can you love.”

You said nothing and John left , shutting the door behind him. It had been closed on you and so were the Gates of Eden.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #john seed #john seed fan fic #far cry 5 fic #john seed x reader #do i hate this? yes #writing #y/n #did i get john’s characterization wrong? YES #over use or commas sorry #‎♡‧₊˚ 📝 — doll #rushed

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sweeetestcurse · 9 months

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TO SURVIVE - CHAPTER 11

Seperation anxiety rears its ugly head. Jodie doesn’t know how to handle herself.

#fanfiction #fan fic #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fic #far cry 5 #jacob seed/female deputy #to survive #mine

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 2 years

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thanks for the tag @clonesupport! <3

Tagging: @roofgeese, @beautiful-delirium, @thomrainer, @perhapsrampancy, @somethingclich8, @bearcina

Here’s a little more from my fic “When the Bliss Hits”:

“What the fuck?” she muttered under her breath.

It couldn’t be real, it wasn’t possible. Jacob Seed would never work willingly with Faith, not like this, he couldn’t possibly. This wasn’t his style. This felt more like something out of a bad romance novel. Not like something a cult would use to try and get her to join their cause. But before she could fight her feet had already carried her away, she was with him now.

The wind whipped through her hair, her braid having fallen free, her waves floating on the breeze. White flower petals pirouetting across the forest floor around them.

“This isn’t real, is it?”

“You tell me, Kitten.”

It certainly sounded like him. Dry, yet charming, as he always was with her. His pale blue eyes scanned her face, resting upon her lips for a moment too long, allowing himself to get caught. The subtle signs were all there, but this couldn’t be real. Nothing with Faith ever was. But the way his hands felt as they tugged her in towards him, fingers digging into her lower back…it had to be true, didn’t it?

“Got something I wanna show you.”

She looked up at him, trying to read his expression, trying to coax her mind into realizing it was all a dream.

“Really? What?”

“That’d kinda ruin the surprise, don’t ya think?”

Her face remained cold. She wasn’t quite lost in the splendor of the Bliss’ hallucination. “I don’t like surprises.”

“Of course, ya don’t.” He smirked, he already knew her too well.

But then again this was all in her head, wasn’t it? Of course he’d respond that way. Of course he’d know she’d react like that. Of course her brain would come up with some soft scenario to play out under the effects of the hallucinogen. Jacob had already triggered the part of her subconscious hell bent on violence, it wasn’t surprising Faith would go for the part of her that was buried that much deeper, the part of her Kit let no one ever see, the soft underbelly of her.

Jacob stroked his fingers through her hair that framed her face, scooping a loose white petal from her tousled waves.

Starry-eyed. It was the only way she could explain it. She looked at him like he was her white knight, handsome and brave. It was what she wanted to see when she looked at him. The man he likely once was, or could have been, maybe in another life. Maybe in another life she could have been the girl who wore dresses and walked through meadows in the morning dew, but life had other plans for her.

Pierced at the back of her brain, like pins and needles were being shoved into her, the golden light that surrounded them turned grey and cold. Her vision tunneled as it all went black. She didn’t want to go. Not yet.

She woke up at the edge of the river, her feet in the water. Shivering and cold, the toxin had run its course through her system, torn through her blood and her mind, and left a channel into her like a worm through an apple.

#wip whenever #fan fic #fc5 #far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed x female deputy #female deputy oc #kit cross #my oc

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kittycatlukey · 10 months

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Joseph Seed x Female Reader

(PRE-CULT)

Reader is bisexual.

TW ⚠️: Alcohol usage, language/cursing, rejection, thoughts of dying, brief mention of reader having anxiety, etc.

I pushed open the door to the Spread Eagle, instantly making eye contact with my close friend, Mary May Fairgrave— the co-owner of the bar. Her dad was the other owner. Her locks of blonde hair rested atop her collarbone, which was unusual. She often had her hair up in a tight bun. Her ocean blue eyes were twinkling despite the dim lighting of the bar. The freckles that littered her cheeks were obvious even from across the room. Her beauty was on full display tonight, causing a slight blush to form on my dimpled cheeks. Although Mary May was my friend, I have recently discovered that my feelings for her weren’t just “friend” emotions, if that made sense. I would rather bury myself in a seven feet deep hole than admit my little crush to her. I’d rather just push away my feelings and maybe they’d go away. But my best friend, Joseph Seed, told me he thought otherwise. Maybe I should just go for it?

Anyway, when Mary May and I made eye contact, she waved me over to the counter with a bright, warm smile. Immediately, I grinned back, the blush still evident on my face, as I made my way to her. I sat down in the seat across from her as she poured my usual drink— Johnnie Walker Red. Mary scooted the glass across the counter for me to grab.

“My treat. On the house.” Mary showed off her white teeth as she fidgeted with the red rag on her shoulder, ready to clean up any alcohol spills.

She had such a breathtaking smile.

“You know I hate doing that to you. Just because we’re close, you shouldn’t feel obligated to give me free drinks. Makes me feel like a bum.” I spoke honestly, taking a sip, as I tapped my fingers on the counter because of my anxiety. I really wanted to ask her out tonight, but currently I was working up the courage. “Your dad probably wouldn’t like it if he found out.”

“Nah, he likes ya. Ever since you started talkin’ to him about his big rig, he never shuts up about ya… He finally has somethin’ in common with somebody.” Mary replied with a small chuckle, her eyes crinkling at the action. “He probably likes you better than me. He wouldn’t mind you getting free drinks every now and then.”

It was cute. I guess now’s my chance.

“Alright. Umm…” I spoke but then cleared my throat, feeling my heart pounding hard against my chest. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

Mary May had that same damn adorable smile on her face. “Okay. Shoot.”

“Well, uh— I was wondering if um… Maybe uh… you would like to go out with me? Like as in um— a date?” I asked, stammering over a few of my words. “But if you don’t want to that’s— that’s fine. I was just uh… wanting to know if you maybe felt the same way I do.” At this point, I couldn’t look her in the eyes, although I could sense her staring at me. And all I could feel at that point was nervousness. My hands were sweating and shaking, gripping my glass of alcohol tightly so it wouldn’t slip out of my hand. The other palm I had to wipe on my shirt to get the sweat off.

Mary May’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and that scared me. “Like as in… an actual date? I’m sorry, Y/N, but I don’t feel the same. I just see you as a close friend. I really don’t want this to change things between us—”

I couldn’t take anymore. Downing the last of my drink, feeling the burn trickle down my throat, wishing it would take all the pain in my heart away. “It’s okay. Thanks for all the drinks. I’m just— I’m gonna go.” My voice cracked while I was on the verge of tears. Throwing a fifty dollar bill her way, I didn’t look back.

Then, I couldn’t stop the tears that had threatened to spill just moments before. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, my throat tightening at what had just happened. It feels like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest and teared into shreds. I should’ve known that her feelings weren’t mutual, and that I was yearning for something that wasn’t possible. Mary May was way out of my league. I ran towards my truck in the pouring rain, my eyes stinging as I got in and started it. “Fuck my shitty life.” I backed out of the bar’s paved driveway, and headed towards the house of the one person I could depend on. The one person I could trust with my life. The one that I had told all my secrets to, vented to him countless times. My best friend. Joseph.

Once I pulled next to his house, he was already on his porch. He must’ve heard the familiar loud rumbling of my truck’s engine despite the loud rain. I jumped out of the rig, slamming the door shut before trudging up the steps to his roof-covered porch.

“Sweetie, what’re you doing here? Not that I mind you showing up out of nowhere, I’m just confused.” Joseph spoke with a small smile, but his cheery face quickly turned to a face full of concern. “Y/N, what’s wrong, honey? Why’re you so sad?” He questioned, taking his signature yellow aviator sunglasses off, hooking it on his white t-shirt.

“Mary May—” I managed to choke out. “Just friends.” I made it to him, wrapping my arms around his abdomen like my life depended on it (maybe it did), my face against his chest with my tears causing his shirt to become soaked. “She—” I hiccuped, “She d-doesn’t feel t-the same.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Joseph cooed while he rubbed my back soothingly, in an attempt to calm me down. “Come inside and let’s get you out of this cold rain. I’ll make you some warm honey tea.”

I nodded against his chest, my eyes shut. “T-thank you.” I was clutching onto him for dear life. “S-she… I thought m-maybe she liked me back. But I was wrong. S-So wrong.”

“Mary May’s a fool for not seeing how beautiful and wonderful you are. She’ll pay for that one day...” Joseph whispered in my ear, his beard tickling my earlobe. “Come inside with me.” He pulled away gently, keeping his hand on my upper back. “I’m gonna take care of you.” Bringing me inside his quaint, cozy, familiar home, he lead me to the leather couch. “I’ll get you a blanket and some tea. Be right back.” He spoke softly, a worried look in his sky blue orbs.

Once he left the room, I laid down on the couch, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling, wondering what I did to deserve such a good friend (and what I did to deserve getting rejected by Mary May). Joseph and I were very close. I told him everything about me— from my favorite color and my favorite food to my sexuality and the girl that I’ve been in love with for probably years (back then I didn’t know it at the time)… He never once judged me, always supporting me through everything. He had my back and I had his. He’s what you call a true friend.

While I was lost in my thoughts, Joseph came back with a blanket and two steaming hot cups of his homemade honey tea. He set both of them on the coffee table in front of the couch before sitting right beside me, draping the blanket over my waist down.

“Drink some tea. It could help you feel better.” Joseph spoke softly as he started rubbing my back again soothingly. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be here every step of the way.”

“Thanks Joseph. For everything.” I admitted, turning my head to look at him. I had managed to stop crying, but my eyes still burned, definitely bloodshot. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be just fine without me… Here. Drink up.” Joseph shot me a small smile, handing me my cup of honey tea. “It’s my great grandmother’s recipe. My grandma swore by it.”

Taking a sip of the tasty, familiar tea, I laid the cup back on the coffee table. “That’s so delicious… I didn’t know it was your great grandmother’s recipe. I thought it was yours.”

Joseph scoffed teasingly, “I’m definitely not that creative.” He then took a large sip of his tea. “Crap, that’s very hot. I think I burned my tongue” He placed the cup on the coffee table. “That hurts.”

I giggled at him, nearly forgetting about what happened thirty minutes before.

A few hours had passed. Our tea cups were empty, and Joseph and I were currently watching Impractical Jokers. Somehow, the blanket that was on me had made its way around the both of us, up to our necks as we laughed at the tv screen. We laughed when Sal was forced to spin in the swivel chair and attempted to bring the customers their food and drinks. But obviously he failed and didn’t make it very far, knocking over the nearby chairs and table while falling onto it. Then Sal had to go to the next station and do the old school sit-and-spin. He barely made it outside of the tent before he rammed into the wall, dropping the tray full of food and drinks, probably breaking the glasses. It was hilarious!

Joseph and I were laughing so hard that I had started crying and his stomach was hurting. It was a great way to end the night…

“Thanks for um— keeping me company.” I thanked my friend as the episode ended, turning to Joseph. “I really appreciate you being here for me. I don’t know what I would do without you, Joe.” I started tearing up at the thought.

“Aww, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.” Joseph smiled softly at me, pulling me in for a hug.

He had his arms wrapped around my shoulders while my arms were wrapped around his waist. I had my head in the crook of his shoulder as he laid a kiss on the back of my head.

With this, my heart began to flutter… Weird? Was I going into a-fib? Why did my heart just do that? I pulled away from Joseph, confusion evident on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” Joseph asked, appearing a little hurt by me creating distance between us.

I shook my head, “No.” And my body acted on instinct. I kissed Joseph.

Published: 13 August 2023

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harmonyowl · 2 years

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The Hell That Befell Them All

I had sudden inspiration to write the arrest scene with my deputy, Blythe Paige, and apparently as evidenced by the word count that inspiration took me to a place of no self control 😂 But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: None

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This was how she was going to die.

Blythe couldn’t believe it. After spending years profiling arsonists, serial killers, terrorists, and so many other kinds of dangerous people this was how God was going to have her go out: murdered by a militant doomsday cult. Because that was exactly how this entire shitshow was going to end.

One Federal Marshal, one County Sheriff, and three Deputies to arrest the Joseph Seed? Were they joking? They needed the whole damn cavalry here to back them up, what the hell were the Marshal’s thinking? Were they really so arrogant as to only send one extra person? Because five would not be enough no matter how high up the badge; we were the law of men, of perverted ideals and corrupt governments. Sinners and heathens, not the highest authority. For when you had a divine purpose, when you were only beholden to the authority of God and their righteous plan; to the law of God alone, no other earthly power could ever hold any command over you. You needed to pose a problem, a danger even, for something like this to be carried out successfully. All that the five of them posed was fuel for their cause, justification.

Not that the Marshal seemed to care for her qualified opinion on the matter, it didn’t make him rethink his plan. Now that she no longer held federal authority it seemed he no longer held professional courtesy to at least take her experience into consideration. At least she knew that she wasn’t the only one who thought going in like this was a terrible idea. However, no matter how much her Uncle Earl tried to make the Marshal reconsider it seemed he would not be swayed, and every vibration of the helicopter made Blythe’s stomach clench even further. She tried to relax her grip on her phone as her uncle caught her eye with a sigh before opening a call with Nancy, not even her familiar and kind voice could ease Blythe's anxieties. She hoped they gave her a chance at survival when the time came.

‘We’re approaching the compound, Nancy. Over.’

‘Roger Sheriff, you still planning to go through with this? Over.’ God Blythe wished that they weren’t, and the fact that they were almost there made her close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. She needed to get into work mode, make herself ready, she tucked her phone away and slid her gloves off. Blythe hated wearing them as part of her uniform; she felt like she could never get a grip on anything and she was sure her uncle wouldn’t enforce them this time given the circumstances.

‘We are, unfortunately, still trying to talk some sense into our friend the Marshal. Over.’ Burke gave a little snort at that, as if the idea of turning back and coming up with a much more logical plan was a preposterous one.

‘Alright, lucky I’m not there, get into any trouble you just let me know. Over.’

‘Ten-four, over and out.’ Blythe just shook her head slightly as the call ended and fiddled with the medals on her corded bracelets, if there was ever a time that she needed the courageous blessings of Saint Joan of Arc now was that time.

‘Maybe we should have brought Nancy along with us instead of the Probie,’ Staci pointed back towards Blythe with a slight smirk, ‘these Peggies wouldn’t fuck with her.’

‘Pratt.’

Probie. Rookie. Rook. It almost made Blythe crack a smile despite the situation, something that was once used to mock her when she first came back and irked her to no end had now evolved into a fond, ironic nickname they had for her. Although less fond when it came out of the Marshal’s mouth but she’d let it slide, it wasn’t worth it, Blythe already knew how truly ironic the nickname Rookie really was. Much like she knew how utterly moronic it was to drink when you were about to make a dangerous arrest. She narrowed her eyes at Staci as he pulled out his flask and took a swig, and Blythe highly doubted it was a refreshing drink of water. Debating whether or not to say something and draw everyone’s attention to it, Blythe saw Joey shake off Staci’s offered hand and he put it away, thank God for Joey Hudson.

‘We’re here. Compound’s just below.’ Blythe looked out of the window and saw the white church and all the buildings with their dark roof’s dotted around, it had been quite a few years since she had been at a cult’s compound and yet it felt no less daunting. The helicopter swung around to make its descent and everyone’s collective sighs could be heard through her headset.

‘Last chance Marshal.’ He only sighed in response to her uncle and delivered the final verbal nail to all of their coffins.

‘We’re going in.’

As her uncle gave Staci the order to set them down, Blythe could start to see the people as they got lower. The very heavily armed people. The very heavily armed and annoyed people. The stifling aura of unwelcomeness and distaste was heavy even before Blythe and the others had stepped outside.

‘Now listen up, three rules,’ her uncle shouted over the rotors as they all took off their headsets, ‘keep close, keep your gun’s in your holsters, and let me do the talking, got it?’

‘Got it.’ Burke responded and Blythe did the same, she checked the gun on her hip before looking back at her uncle to confirm. He looked worried and rightfully so, Blythe gave him a small smile and a nod to try and reassure him: she was on alert, she was taking this seriously, she hoped he wouldn’t worry about her but Blythe knew there was a small chance of that happening. It didn’t matter how much trust he had in her or how capable she was, her uncle would always worry.

‘Alright everyone stay sharp,’ he then sighed, ‘let’s go!’

Blythe let the Marshal go first before hopping out after him, he seemed to be chomping at the bit and she thought it would be more prudent to watch his back instead of getting in his way. As soon as her boots hit the ground she tried to take in as much as possible. People up ahead holding weapons openly: warning. And they had a relaxed stance: confident in their home and in their abilities. Blythe could hear dogs barking: a problem if things got violent. And the people around her were openly berating them: testy and non-cooperative. As the four of them walked through the gates towards the church Blythe heard them close behind her, she turned at the noise and could see some of the members trailing behind, watching them. Trapping them in, or, stopping them from being able to get out. One of them locked eyes with her and bared his teeth in malice but did nothing else, the massive shotgun he was holding spoke for itself. Her fingers started to trail along the bottom of her holster but she kept her breathing even, the worst thing that could happen here was someone getting overly excited and trigger happy. Blythe counted the number of buildings as they passed them, made note of their names and repeated them in her head. Deadly sins in Latin? Of course they were. They were even closer now and had started to hear faint singing coming from the church.

‘Everything’s just fine.’ Her uncle muttered which apparently exasperated the Marshal next to him, who seemed to be constantly underestimating the situation they were in.

‘Jesus, you’re wearing badges aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, but they don’t respect badges much out here.’ Joey piped in.

‘They’ll respect a nine millimetre.’ Blythe hoped that that was just false bravado in front of the cult members, because they had all just walked by a man with a flamethrower ten seconds ago and everyone since had been armed and seemed to know how to use their weapon.

‘Not every problem can be solved with a bullet, Marshal.’

‘When God is the only being you answer to, we are but insects in their perfect haven in comparison.’ Burke didn’t respond to Blythe’s quiet words but she knew he had heard her, she’d been saying the same thing since the Marshal brought in his warrant to the station.

They were now approaching the doors of the church where the singing could now be more clearly heard as Amazing Grace, where Joseph Seed would be no doubt residing and the fate of all of this would be decided. God she hoped her parents wouldn’t be inside, anywhere else but here, she didn’t want them to get hurt if this went south. When this went south. Blythe sent up one final prayer to Saint Joan of Arc for courage before falling in line behind her uncle and the Marshal. Burke went to open the doors but her uncle stopped him by putting a hand on it.

‘Woah Marshal, we do this, we do it my way, quietly, calmly. You got it?’

Burke took his hand from the door handle and made a placating gesture before responding with ‘fine.’ Her uncle instructed Hudson to stay at the door and not let anyone else inside, which was the best choice, Joey was tough as hell and would not be intimidated by anyone here. But she was still only one person, if everyone here wanted to get inside they would have no problem overwhelming her.

‘Blythe,’ she lifted her eyes to meet her uncle. He was all serious now, no visible hint of the worry from earlier, ‘on me.’

‘Yes sir.’ She responded.

‘And you just,’ he turned back to Burke, ‘try not to do anything stupid.’

‘Relax Sheriff, you’re about to get your name in the paper.’ Blythe hated everything about this.

Joey gave her a nod and an ‘it’ll be fine’ before turning to guard the door, Blythe wasn’t sure if it was more for her benefit or for Joey’s but at least one of them had some form of optimistic thinking, no matter how piss poor it was. Her uncle opened the doors where they were greeted with a familiar voice immediately, ever a man of perfect timing:

‘Something is coming, you can feel it can’t you?’

The three of them slowly walked up the aisle, their footsteps creaking and cult members lined their way on either side. If the outside felt unwelcome then here inside this place of worship it felt truly sinister, as if the entire room was waiting, tensing, readying itself.

‘We are creeping toward the edge, and there will be a reckoning.’

It was dim inside with the only light being cast by the fixture on the back wall, shaped like their Eden’s Gate cross. The light shadowed his figure but Blythe knew it was Joseph Seed, she’d seen him enough, interacted with him enough to know his movements and how he stood. She watched the others in the room carefully, their faces were clearly agitated as they turned to look at the intruders and Blythe could see that they were already outnumbered in this church alone.

‘They will come, they will try to take from us, take our guns, take our freedom, take our faith. We will not let them.��

Blythe’s eyes immediately flicked to the far left and caught Jacob Seed standing there, problem number two. Her eyes kept scanning back towards the right when she locked eyes with John Seed, he smirked at her before she broke eye contact to keep scanning, problem number three. Once her eyes made it all the way to the right side of the sanctuary she found Faith Seed, problem number four. And with every word that Joseph spoke, every barbed undercurrent and scathing tone to his preaching, he riled up his congregation and they had started to rise, problem number one.

‘We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore!’

Blythe could see that the Marshal was getting antsy, her uncle kept telling him to wait but it was only a matter of time before he lost his patience. He was getting overly excited, as was the room.

‘There will be no more suffering!’

‘Nah fuck this!’ The Marshal brandished the arrest warrant to Joseph, as if it were some divine text or maybe a paper shield. ‘Joseph Seed, I have a warrant issued for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm. Now I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see ‘em.’

The Father did just as he was asked, raising his hands calmly, not even a look of frustration at being interrupted. Blythe wanted to roll her eyes because of Burke and his lack of tact but refrained, she wasn’t going to undermine them in front of everyone here. Now that it was done they needed to be firm, a united front.

‘Here they are,’ Blythe was starting to hear shouting and she sensed some movement behind her, she subtly moved her hand to her holster and kept watch for anyone about to explode, ‘the locusts in our garden.’

They were moving, be calm, be calm, they were closing in.

‘They’ve come to take me away from you.’

More shouting, getting even closer.

‘They’ve come to destroy all that we’ve built!’

Such inflammatory words, it did the job. The congregation were surrounding them, blocking Joseph and looking livid. They were close, too close, Blythe wasn’t sure she’d have much room to manoeuvre, they’d overpower her and take her down so easily. She wasn’t the one with the power here, none of them were, they were just standing in the room with the builders of their coffins.

Burke went to unsubtly reach for his service weapon which just threw fuel onto the already simmering fire, emotions were becoming very palpable, and her uncle tried to keep a hold on the situation by shouting at the Marshal to keep his weapon holstered. But all he did was show Joseph where the crack in their team was.

All it took was a touch, his hands on his followers shoulders for the noise to quiet, for the turbulent energy to be sucked back out of the room, for a calm to settle. He may not have said any words but Joseph’s message was clear: your hands may hold the badges and the guns and mine may be empty, but these empty hands are all I’ll need.

‘We knew this moment would come, we’ve prepared for it.’ Had they? While it wasn’t possible for Blythe to be any more tense and alert than she already was, those words got her attention. What else were they going to do? How much more out of their depth could they get?

‘Go. Go. God will not let them take me.’ And so they did, shuffling past so close that they almost brushed up against Blythe’s arms. Her muscles were tensed right up until the last sneering face passed by her vision and she could hear them walking out the doors. She dropped her hand from her holster and turned back to Joseph, his arms in the air and his siblings congregating behind him, watching them, but doing nothing. Wary.

‘I saw the lamb open the first seal and I heard as it were the noise of thunder one of the four beasts say Come and See-’

Revelation, the book most commonly associated with the ending of our world. Not an uncommon one for a doomsday cult to preach from, but Blythe felt like Joseph wasn’t just quoting for the sake of it. The man had even said it himself: they had prepared for this.

‘Step forward.’ Burke interrupted but it did not dissuade Joseph, just made him speak at him in a kind of defiance.

‘-and I saw! And behold it was a white horse.’ He looked to her uncle, speaking as if this were a wonderous thing and Blythe could see in that moment where Joseph’s brain was going. When you were a servant of God there were no coincidences. Then those eyes slowly shifted to Blythe and she found she couldn’t look away from the blue, though they were obstructed by his yellow aviators. It was as if they locked her into place, much like they did all the other times they had spoken, although this time it was a much less amiable conversation.

‘And Hell followed with him.’ Joseph extended his hands out to her, a submissive gesture from a man that was anything but. Surrendering to the so-called impending Hell. Blythe wished she didn’t have to play into his fantasy but it was too late to tuck tail and turn away now, all they could hope to do was get out of there cleanly and try and mitigate the damage back at the station.

‘Rookie,’ Blythe’s eyes snapped to Burke’s and she couldn’t help the way they hardened, how could he undermine her in front of Joseph and his siblings by calling her that? They weren’t back at the station, they were out in the field arresting a potential criminal and Blythe was livid, but her face stayed schooled, if they made it out of this alive he’d be getting an earful about it later. ‘Cuff this son of a bitch.’

As her eyes drew back to Joseph with his hands still outstretched, he repeated himself again but this time to her personally, Blythe couldn’t help the chill it gave her:

‘God will not let you take me.’

A promise, a benediction, it made her pause.

The Marshal wanted Blythe to put the cuffs on him, and she would, but Joseph had rooted her in her spot, his gaze almost imploring. Blythe’s eyes looked to the figures behind him, still not making a move and gazes still boring into her, but she didn’t know if they would stay doing nothing now that they were close to taking their brother away. Blythe couldn’t believe how hopeful she had once been. It was worrying enough to return home and find her parents had happily joined this religious group, this cult, but the more Blythe spoke to the Seeds: Joseph, John, and Faith in particular, the more evident their appeal was to her. They were charming (as all cult leaders were in some way), they spoke truths and preyed upon the vulnerabilities of the world, and sometimes they were even kind to her, and Blythe had hoped that there would at least be a peaceful way to resolve this. They had seemed reasonable at the time, open to cooperation even, maybe she could find a way to gently disengage her parents from them; her kind and trusting parents.

But that had been too trusting on her part as well, why did she always feel the need to give people the benefit of the doubt? Once the accusations and complaints started to pile up Blythe saw the writing on the wall, the chain of familiar events that would lead her to the exact position she was in now. Although she had hoped that there would be exponentially more people here to back her up than there were currently.

‘Put down your guns,’ Blythe’s eyes snapped back to Joseph’s when she heard his voice, ‘take your friends, and walk away.’

No, she had come too far, they had all come too far now to just walk away like he wished. If they walked away now it would tell them all that they had power over the Sheriff’s office, it would give them another inch so that they could keep running their mile. No, this was how it had to be done.

Blythe unclipped the handcuffs from her belt and took a step forward to gently grab his wrists and place the cuffs around each of them, no need to make this more antagonistic than it already was. He still offered no resistance and his siblings didn’t move either, but Blythe felt the heaviness of Joseph’s gaze on her, and then he spoke again. It was quiet, whispered, a personal warning meant for her ears alone:

‘Sometimes the best thing to do is to walk away.’ It made Blythe’s hand twitch above his as she was removing it, this was more personal than any other arrest she had ever done in her life, not even arresting her former criminal informant felt this intimate.

‘Step forward Mr. Seed,’ was all she quietly replied with. As Blythe moved to stand behind him, she took her final opportunity to observe his siblings; they did not look happy. They hadn’t made any approach but their stances were much more relaxed now, indicating they would be following them, and Blythe did not like the idea of all three of them directly behind her while she was guiding Joseph. She felt too exposed to them, but she placed her hand on Joseph’s bare shoulder nonetheless.

‘Let’s go,’ her uncle nodded to confirm and when Blythe returned it he and the Marshal turned to lead the way. Joseph’s skin was warmer than she expected but it may have just been in comparison to how clammy her hands had become, this was easy, it was all too easy.

Then they opened the doors, and it all made much more sense to Blythe.

‘We’ve got to get the fuck out of here.’ A white truck pulled up with armed cult members just as they exited the church and Blythe could hear so many more ahead of them. Calm breaths, calm breaths, stay alert and calm breaths. Panicking would mean death. If Joseph felt her fingers tense slightly on his shoulder he made no indication of it, and Blythe forced herself to relax them again, keeping firm as she walked him back towards the helicopter. Although she barely needed any pressure at all, Joseph seemed very content to let himself be walked wherever she wanted him to go, it made Blythe suspicious. Something was coming, she could almost feel it.

The crowd was getting even more agitated, panicked shouting and cries of indignation, they were taking their Father away from them. A woman tried to get in the Marshal’s way and he shoved her down, the first act of violence, Blythe doubted it would be the last but the helicopter was closer now. Almost there. They reached out towards Joseph, praying and imploring while glaring and shouting at Blythe, scorning her for her perceived arrogance and disrespect. How dare she take him.

Blythe saw the first stone arch high towards the Marshal before the others quickly followed, emboldened by them, more started to come and she could see one winding up for her to her left.

‘Don-’ she went to warn, but was interrupted by her aim being off. A look of horror filling the cultist's face at her mistake. Quickly throwing out her free arm Blythe managed to catch the stone just before it smashed into the side of Joseph’s face, his reactionary head turn towards her hand was the only reaction he had given since leaving the church. He looked at her hand for a moment before she saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and then returned to looking ahead of him. But Blythe’s entire palm now pulsed with pain and she clenched her teeth slightly, the rock was sharp and when she lowered her arm and let it slide out of her hand there was blood. But a little blood was the least of her worries right now.

The rest of the team had pulled out their firearms and circled to keep the cultists at bay, the dangerous air had crept back in and despite the helicopter being right in front of her, Blythe had never felt further from safety. The Marshal got behind Blythe to protect her while Joey helped her get Joseph inside the chopper, she fell back onto her seat as she made eye contact with the cultist hanging outside the window desperately trying to get in. They were all swarming for them now. Pounding on the outside, shouting and loud noise everywhere, Blythe’s eyes snapped up as she heard thumping on the top, how did they get up there? She frantically grabbed onto the Marshal as a cultist hung onto his arm as the helicopter started to rise, with a bang! he went limp and plummeted back to the ground. God everything was happening so fast! The adrenaline raged through Blythe’s veins as another cultist suddenly climbed around into her vision, Blythe latched onto her arm to desperately try and pull her inside but the cultist just used it to try and pull Blythe out.

‘Stop, stop! I’m losing my grip, you’ll fall!’ And with a lurch from the helicopter, Blythe slipped and watched the woman drop off the side to her death. Why didn’t she just stop and listen to her? There were still so many cultists hanging off the helicopter trying to climb in and get to the Father; Joseph had now started to sing again, still as calm as ever. God will not let you take me. Slamming herself back into her chair, Blythe quickly put her seat belt on and then pushed Joey back into her own seat to do the same. It almost happened in slow motion for a moment; Blythe noticing the cultist on the windshield, watching him bend his legs to brace himself, the thought dawning on her, the disbelief at what lengths Joseph could inspire someone to go to.

‘Pratt!’ Too late. There was a loud groan from the rotors, the worst sound Blythe had heard all night, as the cultist threw himself into them and what was left after splattered all over the glass. The helicopter lurched, spun, those on the outside were flying off and all Blythe could do was brace herself and pray.

God! Oh God! Please don’t let us die!

All she heard was the crash before everything went dark.

Talking. That was the first thing Blythe heard when she started to wake, a muffled voice. She hadn’t been sure if she would wake up again. Her vision started to blur in next, the Marshal with his arms above his head, Joey in the same position to her right, glowing in her peripherals. Fire. Blythe’s head was pounding and she couldn’t feel her arms, blinking to try and regain her full vision she lifted her head to realise they were all hanging upside down. And Joseph was gone.

That voice…Nancy, where was it coming from? God Blythe hoped it had been fifteen minutes so that help had been called, they needed it urgently. She caught sight of the hanging headset to her right with Nancy’s panicked voice coming out of it, if she could just…and then Blythe heard him. Amazing Grace, again, he was close but no matter how much Blythe whipped her injured head around she couldn’t see where Joseph was. But she needed to hurry. Reaching out her tingly arm she desperately tried to grab the headset, her fingers just short and Joseph’s voice getting closer. Panic started to set in as Blythe desperately clawed for it, almost there, so close, come on! The headset wildly swung at Blythe’s pawing, but just as she managed to grab the earpiece on a back swing, a tattooed hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. So close, always so close but never enough.

Blythe’s whole body froze as Joseph looked down at her, blood on her head and bruises on her face, green eyes unwilling to let him out of her sight. She had no idea what he was going to do. Joseph released her wrist causing her arm to drop then he pulled her closer by her shoulder, his thumb ran back and forth on Blythe’s neck in a mock pacifying gesture as he observed her.

‘I told you God wouldn’t let you take me.’ Blythe opened her mouth as if to say something back but nothing came out, everything hurt and she waited for her fate to be decided by the man in front of her. Oh, how it had all changed so quickly. Joseph, without breaking eye contact, reached up to grab the headset and bring the microphone close to his mouth:

‘Dispatch,’ Blythe heard Nancy sob in relief and her stomach dropped, dread was starting to creep in suddenly as her instincts screamed at her, ‘everything is just fine here, no need to call anyone.’

‘Yes Father, praise be to you.’ Her eyes closed at those words, her last hopes thoroughly dashed. Joseph really would be the final decider of her fate, of all their fates, and they had just kicked in the door to his house and dragged him out of it. Joseph leaned in closer, so close that when he spoke all he needed was a whisper to make himself so loud to her.

‘No one is coming to save you, Blythe.’ No, there wasn’t, and it seemed not even Joseph would. He squeezed her shoulder in a surprisingly gentle manner, an antithesis to what was happening, before his hand slid off and Blythe watched him step out of the helicopter into the arms of the awaiting faithful that had found them. When Blythe noticed Joey starting to move out of the corner of her eye, she reached out to try and rouse her, if there was any chance of them making it out of this they needed to do it now.

‘The first seal has been broken,’ Joseph announced from the car he had climbed atop of, ‘the collapse has begun, we will take what we need.’

Blythe reached out again: ‘Joey! Joey wake up, come on!’ Her voice was thick but Joey did open her eyes, delirious but awake. Coughing came from in front of Blythe and it seemed the Marshal was waking up as well, good, they needed to get her uncle and Staci and then get the hell out of there.

‘These harbingers of doom will see the truth,’ Joseph then started to raise his arms and Blythe’s breath caught in her lungs, ‘begin the Reaping!’

It was only more chaos from there, they all struggled to unbuckle themselves before the cultists came but gravity was working against them all. They grabbed Staci first and then Joey quickly after, Blythe couldn’t see her uncle but she hoped he would get away from them somehow. What were they going to do with them? What was this Reaping? She needed to hurry, needed to think, but her fingers kept fumbling with the buckle. Flames sprung up around her, the heat prickling her skin and adding to her panic.

‘Let them burn, this is God’s will.’ Blythe watched the Marshal unbuckle himself, she thought he’d help her, but once again she gave him the benefit of the doubt and was disappointed swiftly after. He left her to die, just as it seemed Joseph would.

Last chance. Blythe desperately grabbed at the buckle on her seat belt, shoved her fingers under the latch continually, pulled as hard as she could until her fingers slipped out and then she tried again. The fire was creeping closer, it would get to the engine, she was going to die in the explosion. But Blythe felt herself suddenly lurch forward and then she was falling to the ground, tumbling out of the side of the helicopter and onto the dirt. The blood rushing from her head made it spin, but the alarmed shouting and gunfire behind her forced her to get up and move.

Blythe thought she heard her name but she didn’t care, she just ran from her pursuers as fast as she could, boots pounding down on the earth as she zigzagged into the trees. Her breathing was heavy but her adrenaline carried her through, no thoughts, just run! Joseph and the Marshal may have been willing to let her die, but Blythe wasn’t about to make it so easy.

They may have just unleashed a hell upon Hope County, one worse than she ever could be. For if Blythe was the hell that followed the white horse, then Joseph was the prophet that led the masses to their anguish. One false word at a time.

#my writing #blythe paige #fan deputy #far cry 5 deputy #far cry 5 oc #joseph seed #jacob seed #john seed #faith seed #earl whitehorse #joey hudson #staci pratt #cameron burke #deputy rook #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 oneshot #far cry 5 #fc5 #fae's fics

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jacobmybeloved · 1 year

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orphiceonian · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Joey Hudson Characters: Female Deputy | Judge (Far Cry), Deputy | Judge (Far Cry), Joey Hudson, Staci Pratt, Earl Whitehorse Additional Tags: Dancing, Pre-Canon, Rook is a disaster lesbian and Joey is no help, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Rook wasn’t one for dancing. Joey was.

#far cry 5 #far cry #deputy rook #joey hudson #rook x joey #fan fiction #writer #ru writes #ru starts a new fic whoops

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 3 months

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to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you.

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another.

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!”

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!”

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly.

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said.

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-”

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage. “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!”

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy.

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you.

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard.

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright.

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now?

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed.

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?”

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.”

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!”

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it.

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.”

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.”

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away.

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.

#julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #jj writes #julien baker one shot #julien baker au #julien baker x singer!reader #julien baker x lacy!reader #muna x reader #julien baker angst

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wolfiemcwolferson · 1 month

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Helllllooooo, I was tagged by @duquesademiel and also @vicsy and I feel a bit deranged but here we go.

1. How many works do you have on ao3

I have 73 fics up on my f1 ao3 account.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Please do not judge me for this, god, oh my god - 1,331,441

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I currently write for F1.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

well we can settle down (Maxiel)

I remember when I met you just before September (Carlando)

so take it from me (Carlando)

I will wait for you at the end love (Maxiel)

I feel your body call on me (Piarles)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do not respond to comments and it makes me feel really horribly guilty. To be honest, I did not do it when I first joined the fandom because I was overwhelmed and then I wanted to and it was too long and I think one of the things I want to do is start...responding to comments...I just never know what to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think it's this Carlando. But you just have to read it. Trust me.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't think I can answer that because I am a certified happy ending writer. I have a few fics that I desperately want to write that I won't because they're not happy endings, but if I have to pick...it's got to be the Blue Neighbourhood series. That's a complete circle ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no one has ever left me explicit hate on my fics. some of y'all get wild in my inbox which is why I don't have anon on

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Uh. I don't know how to answer that.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not a big fan of crossovers <- Vicsy is right

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No and I made a Wattpad account after Briony had one of her Maxiel fics posted to there for the second time and now I religiously check because I am deranged

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge - wait, once Sol said for exam practice she was translating bits of my fic and I had a little cry about it but it's not posted anywhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

HAVE I EVER. I genuinely have too many to individually tag, but I have written with @river-ocean in the past and I am currently posting the Alphabet Dating Season fic with @chaesonghwas and @duquesademiel - and we all know that Sol and I are always always always writing fic together. I have something in the works with someone else and I think it's a secret, so I won't say anything about that. And then @miamierre and I are literally putting the finishing touches on the promised insane fic we cooked up together and I cannot wait for you all to see it. This is the year of collabs for me and I'm loving it tbh

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Despite the stats on my fics

Piarles

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a fic for an old fandom that is languishing away and I feel guilty about it because it was good

16. What are your writing strengths?

I write fast.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I suffer from "can't shut up" and sometimes my fics don't need to be a long fic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am so so so nervous about it. everything that I write I double and triple check and I still get it wrong a lot of the time. I think it's fine and people should do whatever the fuck they want.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter because of course

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

This answer literally changes every single day. Today it's the sugarbaby fic that I wrote for Phoebe because I am very very proud of that fic and I think if you hold it against the stuff I was writing two years ago, you really see how far I've come as a writer.

Everyone tagged in this that hasn't already done it should do it, but I'm also going to tag @gaynfl

#tag thingy

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lulu2992 · 7 months

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Another “old” drawing!

John has something very important to say, something he hasn’t told anyone in years (or maybe ever; he can’t remember). It’s a short, simple sentence, but also a surprisingly hard one to say, so before Taylor actually hears it, he wants to practice...

Full story and context under the cut :)

So, basically, at this point in Taylor’s story, life is hard.

Because of the truce that was negotiated between Eden’s Gate and the Resistance, Hope County is now living in relative peace, at least for the moment. But for the Deputy who made it possible, that peace comes at a heavy cost.

The same people who used to sing her praises and count on her to make things better now (understandably) feel betrayed, hurt, and are angry at her for sparing John, so they either awkwardly avoid her and talk behind her back, or are openly aggressive and contemptuous. Some shame her for “using her body to buy peace”, even though that’s not quite true (they aren’t there yet in their relationship, and the cult has rules anyway).

And despite the fact that, because of the circumstances, she’s now closer to Eden’s Gate than she is to the Resistance, not all cultists trust her. Of course, they listen to Joseph, who said he had faith in Taylor, but some still (also understandably) remain cautious and are worried for their Herald in the Holland Valley. Is it safe to welcome the Deputy or does that heathen have ulterior motives? What if she’s only trying to use and pervert John so she can more easily destroy him and the Project?

For peace, the Junior Deputy had to sacrifice her reputation, has lost many of her friends, and now feels judged by almost everyone in Hope County, even some of those who still tolerate her. So yeah, life is hard.

But paradoxically, the more upset people are at her for growing closer to John, the harder their hatred pushes her into his arms. Soon, the Baptist becomes one of the few people she really trusts and feels allowed to be vulnerable around.

That afternoon, after a particularly difficult moment in Fall’s End, she drove to Seed Ranch, resolutely walked through the front door without saying a word, barely acknowledging the few cultists on her way, went straight to John… and burst into tears the moment she put her arms around him. After the initial surprise, he signaled to the confused guards that everything was okay, that they could leave the room, and just hugged her back in silence.

“Everyone hates me,” she said when her sobbing quieted down and she was finally able to speak.

“No… No, not everyone,” he replied. “There are... There are people who love you. You know that, don’t you?”

She loosened her embrace to look at him.

“That’s why you came here, right?” he asked, smiling tenderly.

She smiled back, but soon she noticed he seemed… uncomfortable. Powerless, even; unsure of what to say and how to deal with the situation. Suddenly, she felt guilty... She had come here because she needed a shoulder to cry on, but she hadn’t realized her sadness would affect him too.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have come here and burdened you with that. I just- You probably have things to do, I should go...”

“No, wait!” he quickly responded, his hands tightening around her waist. “You can stay, it’s fine.”

She looked at him again, and he nodded before adding, “It’s fine. Really.”

She knew he wasn’t just offering her to spend the rest of the day at the ranch; he wanted her to, so she happily accepted.

That night, she fell asleep where she truly felt home: in John’s arms. Unbeknownst to her, for the first time, he told her something he knew he was ready to tell her, but not quite for her to hear yet; not before he was certain he could do it properly.

As she was peacefully sleeping, he whispered, “I love you.”

#my deputy #taylor rook #the deputy #john seed #john seed x deputy #my art #fan art #traditional art #digital coloring #drawn in december 2022 #only one ‘old’ drawing left!#but wait... am I writing... fanfiction now??#the incredible adventures of john 'emotionally constipated perfectionist' seed #also considering what the fandom is reportedly dealing with these days... yay I can’t wait for this to be copy-pasted!#far cry 5 #story: 'that fic I’ll never write'

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josephseedismyfather · 2 months

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Afflicted: Harley & Jacob

Chapter 2: Ruins

Chapter 2 is finally ready.

Many, MANY thanks to my friend @redreart for once again creating the most beautiful chapter art a girl could dream of! Your support and your talent are literal life savers. I love you!

And to @hotmessteaparty, thank you SO MUCH for beta reading, you always manage to blow me away with the amount of work you do. Thank you for the endless hours spent on helping me hash out the things in my brain. I love you 💖💖💖 and am incredibly grateful.

I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! I have plenty more to go, these fics will be loooong, and chapter 3 is already fleshed out.

#afflicted: harley & jacob #afflicted chapter 2 #far cry 5 fic #oc: harley jane #jacob seed #harley x jacob #jacob seed x oc #far cry 5 fan art #chapter art!#far cry 5 fan fiction #redreart #my writing 🖤

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villaofthemysteries · 1 year

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...and yet he loved this thing

Hello, and welcome to The Devil’s Minion Week, which celebrates the relationship between Daniel Molloy and Armand in The Vampire Chronicles series, specifically from The Queen of the Damned. This chapter of the book, and the relationship it describes, is some of the best writing and characterisation in the whole series, and the layered, twisted, deeply romantic relationship that ensues is beloved by many fans.

To celebrate, this week is dedicated to quotes from the chapter, and fans are invited to make gifsets/photosets, artwork, fics or videos, that relate to, or are inspired by, each quote. This includes images from the recent TV version of Interview with the Vampire, as well as other onscreen appearances of both Daniel and Armand, as the aim is to appeal to both book and show fans. It runs from 10 o’clock in the morning of the 4th of September, to some time in the evening of the 10th of September (all times in Greenwich Mean Time).

You can submit your creation before then, or feel free to post it to your own account and tag @villaofthemysteries using the ‘and yet he loved this thing’/’the devil’s minion week’ tags, which we will track throughout.

The quotes for each day are below - you can use them directly, or relatively, or interpret them in a new and different way. The main idea is to have fun with them, and with the relationship in general, in whatever form that will take.

************************************************************************************************

Day 1 - I want it. I want to live forever. Daniel had sat up, climbed to his feet slowly, struggling to see Armand more clearly. A dim bulb burned somewhere far down the hall. I want to be with Louis and with you. Laughter, low, gentle. But contemptuous. "I see why he chose you for his confidant. You are naive and beautiful. But the beauty could be the only reason, you know."

Day 2 - Daniel was past all decision. Daniel lived only in two alternating states: misery and ecstasy, united by love. He never knew when he'd be given the blood. He never knew if things looked different because of it-the carnations staring at him from their vases, skyscrapers hideously visible like plants sprung up from steel seeds overnight-or because he was just going out of his mind.

Day 3 - “Armand [...] always knew where Daniel was. He could hear Daniel's call. The blood connected them, it had to-the precious tiny drinks of burning preternatural blood. Never enough to do more than awaken dreams in Daniel, and the thirst for eternity, to make the flowers in the wallpaper sing and dance. Whatever, Armand could always find him, of that he had no doubt."

Day 4 - “You came back to me because you wanted to, Daniel,” Armand always said calmly, face still and radiant, eyes full of love. "There is nothing for you now, Daniel, except me. You know that. Madness waits out there."

Day 5 - "Be alive, Daniel." A low whisper, like a kiss. "Let me tell you from my heart that life is better than death."

Day 6 - “… Let the demonic gods war with each other. This mortal has been to the top of the mountain where they cross swords. And he has come back. He has been turned away.”

Day 7 - “...the sight of Armand made him want to cry. Even in deep shadow, Armand's dark brown eyes were filled with a vibrant light. And the expression on his face, so loving. He reached out very carefully and touched Armand's eyelashes. He wanted to touch the tiny fine lines in Armand's lips. Armand kissed him. He began to tremble. The way it felt, the cool silky mouth, like a kiss of the brain, the electric purity of a thought!”

#the big damn quotes post #and yet he loved this thing #the devil's minion week #armand x daniel #the devil's minion #the vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire

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gardensofthemoon · 6 months

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End of the year fic recs

Thank you so much for tagging me, @curufiin! I am veeery new to fandom and fan spaces, and I started reading silm fic in August, but I have already devoured lots of great stories and I’m eager to share some of my favourites. I read mostly ship fics, so that will reflect on my recs.

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Multi chapter fics:

The Long Road by whyyesindeed, WIP, Mature, Fingon/Maedhros, 26k. I adore the author's previous works, and this one is a chaptered story in progress, an AU where Fingon and Maedhros go to Beleriand 48 years before Finwë’s death. The prose is impeccable.

Half-brother in blood, full lover in heart by @ettelene, WIP, Mature, Fëanor/Fingolfin, almost 200k. This is my favourite Feanolo, with lovely writing and compelling plot. The chemistry between the leads is sizzling and I hope that in this AU there will be a happy(/ier) ending.

Moonlight In His Cave by @cuarthol, WIP, Mature, Curufin/Finrod, 15k. Canon compliant Curufinrod, I don't need to say anything more. I cannot wait to read more; the prose is absolutely gorgeous and I LOVE how the familial relationships are portrayed so far.

Curufinwë Atarinkë’s Journal by @curufiin, WIP, Teen and Up, minor Curufin/Finrod, 9k. This one made me love Curufin so much and understand more of his mind, it's crack treated seriously and it goes from baby Curufin scribbling in his journal, to adult kinslayer bearing a horrible burden. I read this three times and each time, I love it more.

Know Thyself by LiveOakWithMoss, completed, Teen and Up, multiple relationships, 9k. Absolutely hilarious, couldn't stop grinning: First Age Feanorians are magically transported into the modern world and meet their human counterparts. Chaos ensues (Maglor duet contest, selfcest, Maedhros is elected Assistant Manager in a mall shop, some interdimensional threesomes). I adore every word.

One shots:

Mirror Image by @swanhild, Gen, various familial relationships, 4,5k. A few fluffy moments between the Feanorians and the Arafinweans, with Feanor and Arafinwe watching. It's endearing and heartwarming with some ominous foreshadowing. It made me cry.

Mapmaking by am_fae, Explicit, Maedhros/Maglor, 3k. Super funny and clever with lots of puns, and a steamy sex scene. Lots of sexy geography talk.

The dining room by @ettelene, Teen and Up, various familial relationships, 9k. A peek into the cooking preparations and subsequent dinner at the Feanorians' house. With a larger cast, lots of witty dialogue, a Huan cameo and underlying tension, this is a splendid read with great characterisation.

Of doves, letters and darker things by @elevenelvenswords, Explicit, Curufin/Finrod, 3,5k. Super atmospheric, a glimpse into the complex power games between the cousins that ends up in hot throne sex.

Oldies:

Outlast the Forests by daphnerunning, 2021, completed, Explicit, Beleg/Turin, 68k. If I could convince any silm fan to read a fic, THIS WOULD BE IT. It's my TOP favourite longfic, canon compliant, slow burn, mortal/immortal. It's based off of Children of Hurin, rife with tragedy, heartwrenching, incredibly loving and ladden with longing. I read it four times and I still think about it on a weekly basis. This is canon to me, it gives alllll the doomed feelings. I don't even need to read other Turleg fics, this is perfection.

And All Our Wounds Forgiven by Marchwriter, 2012, completed, Mature, Curufin/Finrod, 9k. The writing style is fantastic, tolkienesque, the atmosphere the writer has created is unparalelled, like a fairytale, but infused with tension. One of the first Curufinrod pieces on ao3 and a MUST READ for fans of this pairing. I cannot stress enough how beautiful the prose is.

Those Who Favor Fire by @clothonono, 2022, completed, Mature, Fingon/Maedhros, 41k. The author is already one of my favourites on Russingon, but I love this fic in particular because of Maedhros' portrayal post-Thangorodrim, as it fits in line with my headcanons. It also explores the morality of the first kinslaying and Fingon's attempt at justifying himself. It ends with a gut-punching line.

your shadow at morning, rising to meet you by crownlessliestheking, 2021, completed, Explicit, Feanor/Fingolfin, 5k. Fingolfin goes to Formenos to talk sense into his brother. Excellent characterisation and I specifically liked the dialogue.

Correspondingly so by LiveOakWithMoss, 2016, completed, Teen and Up, Curufin/Finrod, 2k. Notes and letters that are funny and witty as hell and full of subtext. I love ALL of LiveOak's Curufinrod pieces, but this was one of the first ones that I read and I remember snickering so much. Another one I reread multiple times and it has in fact inspired one of my fics too.

Mine:

Fëanor posts on r/amitheasshole, Teen and Up, various relationships, 4k. Pure crack. I laugh every time I reread this and I had a ton of fun writing it, I recommend it for when you want some shits and giggles.

Immortal Longings, Mature, Curufin/Finrod, 5k. Epistolary and humorous, written for a 'sexy letters' prompt. Falcon shenanigans, banter, mentions of steamy scenes and golden lingerie that ends up being treated by historians as valuable artefacts from an ancient age. It ends up in tragedy but I am very proud of this one.

Give me shelter, the night is dark, Mature, Curufin/Finrod, 5k. I consider this my best written fic, prose-wise, and I am very pleased with the dialogue (I adore writing Curufinrod dialogue). The premise of it is basically 'Curufin does drugs and Finrod does Curufin.'

This took way longer than expected! I truly believe I have not read ONE badly-written silm fic, and it was quite difficult to choose from many well-loved works. Tagging all authors mentioned here, if you'd like to join.

#the silmarillion #silm fic #fic recs #great fics!!!!!#elio writes #silmarillion #tolkien

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