#far cry 5 fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewanderer-000 · 7 months

Text

"Home is wherever I'm with you"(18+ Minors DNI)

Penelope kept looking atJacob as her last breath was coming, she smiled at her only love knowing their life was so good.

Warning: violence, implied seggual activities and maybe not implied, language

Spent a year and half getting accepted into his better halfs family was an incredible experience, it had been a long time since Jacob had that. Penelope by his side encouraging him, a new experience of being a father of four boys, so new, but his three oldest took care of the little boy along with the happy grandparents. Penelope and Jacob were almost tempted to try for a fifth child as "bear boy" constantly took off with his newly acquainted family. But with all the free time he just wanted to enjoy time away, at least for a time. A fortified military base that helped it alliances, gained control of every Scavengers haunt. Jacob liked that bit of routine but preferred being with Penelope, the boys and his in laws. And his brothers they arrived a few months after their small group made it to California.

"Jacob? I think I'm going to stay, after everything that happened with the Scavengers and Ethan, I can't continue being there. For now, I know you can see it and you understand, John won't take it easy but I know if you talk to him. Maybe he won't be mad at me" Joseph said hopefully even though he knew I wouldn't say no to that, I knew who he'd vent to after, Deputy Haig. I seen them paling around, and heard him trying to learn sign language from her. They laugh and John talks as he signs, I wonder if they were closer when no one was around to see them. I go ahead and talk with John about Joseph with Haig there, she seemed sad but they pulled it together.

"That conversation went well, I talked to John and Lyric Haig. It went good, at the end they both had to talk amongst themselves, I hope they get together already, they take care of each other. It's cute" I said feeling Pen crawl across the bed to come massage my shoulders before bed.

"Aw, see! She's like the best and he and she moon over each other. I can't wait to bring more to Hope and everyone at Prosperity, the train is going to be ready in a day or two" her hands felt good as they kneaded away the stiffness that was in my shoulders, especially my right. Then her hands found their way to my belly to tickle, I get up and move away.

"Uh, and anymore of that will warrant a reprimand darlin', grabbing the dad bod is one thing but tickling. No" Penelope tried grabbing at me but I get to tickling her back but I give as look at her and hold her on our bed. She hummed as I held her close to me, I kissed the top of her head ready to fall asleep, ready for our departure from California to Montana.

"Mm dad bod, haha. You have great body my love, and besides I have a mom bod" I almost choke on my laughter at the mom bod comment, I didn't see it. And where was my great bod, these guys at the base made me feel pudgy and old sometimes. I seen them checking out Pen, not like I haven't seen people eye ball me but my priorities were Pen and our family.

"Ah, bullshit. You grabbed a lot of my pudge, and don't think I haven't noticed how the men look at you when they think I'm not looking. And-" she laughed and batted her eyes marveling at me like I was amusing, like she always does when I start on her. It drove me crazy but she had a way of making me forget what else to say, her hands roamed where they could, her legs. And her legs. They rubbed against me teasingly, I mount on Penelope to listen to her, closely.

"And they aren't you, you hardly have a dad bod, and I want you all of you. Obviously, we got a son, and people's gawking and comments aren't what I care 'bout. But if my mother mentions how cute your butt is again, I'll throw down" I chuckle as I kiss Penelopes neck, Pen laughed I don't know if it was because of me or what. But I kept going my wife and I were going to enjoy our bedroom one last time.

___________________

"Morning beautiful, I think we should be getting up now" Jacob said still cozied up to me, I push back into his body feeling more of his warmth. I wasn't ready to leave our bed yet, he laughed, Jake touched and just stayed there. A kiss here, another few there, roaming hands glide as he moved closer as close as can be.

"It's too early and I'm naked" I murmur happily with his mouth fully on me but then he moves over me after I mentioned my nudity. Jake continued to kiss here and there, trying to wake me up more with smooth moves.

"It seems we both are naked, and you always look more beautiful naked like this" I smile, this man would keep me naked if he could, I opened my eyes a little bit to see his happy eyes before he planted more kisses on me. Then a quick little thuds came to our bedroom door, Jacob and I quickly get up and pulled on our night clothes just as the door handle jiggle. We sigh, I was glad Jacob remembered to lock the door, definitely couldn't explain all the marks Jacob left this time. Our boy growled in frustration then knocked loud enough for us to hear. And yelled even louder.

"MOM! DAD! I'll shower first, see you in 20!" a bossy little voice yelled from the other side, we smiled at each other, then Jacob looked at the nightgown and made a sad face. I pat his chest as I make way to the master bathroom, Jacob patted my butt, I shake my head.

"Your son is bossy you know that" I say putting on a bathrobe before making it to the bathroom. He cackled.

"He dudn't get that from me, that's all you baby" Jacob chortle loudly I rolled my eyes at that insinuation, so I whistle then flash him and drop my nightgown back down. He smiled and proceeded to follow me into the bathroom with a wolfish grin on his mouth.

"Our boy may have said 20, but knowing him he'll be out in an hour" Jacob said with devious undertone to his voice and his hands groped, we went another two rounds then washed up before getting breakfast started. The day was started with time well spent, Jacob and I loved mornings like that. And long ride through mountains and desert.

___________________

"Jacob, I love you" Penelope says while pressing herself into me, her arms tight around me as mine were 'round her. The train rode sound through wilderness.

"And I love you, Penelope, and our family. I'll be happy to show our boys Hope County. Bear boy is excited to take them everywhere" she looked at me moon eyed that we're finally going home, I couldn't wait to go to our spot. Then the train started to slow down. We get over to our conductor to find out why we're stopping.

"Why are we stopping, what's going on?" Me and Penelope ask as soon as we see the guy.

"Corporal Stewart said someone radioed in about dynamite explosive rigged on the bridge, said they wanted to give a warm surprise to those heading back to Hope-, those damned idiot Scavengers are waiting for us to set off the trap on the bridge. Stewart is talking it over with your boys" conductor Harris said before cleaning up his area. We leave him to it then head to our boys, knowing the littlest one would be listening in. Our little boy was relentless, but we leave him with the others and trek on foot to our scouts a ways away. It was long way, we felt eyes on us the whole way, but nothing happened and we took time to disarm the explosive charges.

"They disarmed the explosives, we'll get them now. Big Dermot has arrived and ready to get these "problems" out of our way" I wasn't going to let that happen, I was hoping Penelope didn't hear all that but she did and she began readying her weaponry.

"OK, archers and sharp shooters get on them vantage points" Penelope says as some of our sharp shooters took out the Scavenger sharp shooters. I stand getting my stuff ready as we find a good place to hold our own. We waited for an hour and a half then on cue the Scavengers start to fire on us. We were already in their head Big Dermot began barking orders but we heard it too.

"Fucking! Are you kidding me. Fuckit! Go all out, you all are fucking useless. No wonder the twins lost out to these cultist hill freak fucks. Find their leaders and I'll make mince meat of them. Now!" Penelope quickly ducked back to me as I had her covered, she was getting her combat armor on over the cavalry armor. And like that one of our boys had our cover as Penelope hand me mine as she cover us on her vantage.

"Alpha, they're by the makeshift vantage point gearing up, I think our tech shielding went out." Big D just growled but he wouldn't far, we pushed one of our oldest away knowing what was to come. This Big Dermot was one of many little figures that stood in the way but many of them didn't last. Self treachery was their down fall or one of many rivals took them out. Soon we'd be their down fall.

"Penelope, you ready babe?" I ask then like that it was a hard hit, the makeshift vantage point was blown away, along with me and my wife. I'm unconscious but beginning to find I'm fine for the most part, that basturd got us. My ears are ringing and my vision is distorted, I'm looking but I can't see my wife.

"Penelope!? Pen-!? Where'd- where are yo-?" Then I find one of her weapons by me and I hear clashing of metal and fighting out of the gunfire. I go to her, if I know my wife she's fighting that shit ass over yonder. I quickly pushed through some brush and see her holding her own, dirty, bloodied, and pissed off with tear stricken face.

"Whoa, still looking beautiful kicking ass-" then I get shot. Luckily, I was covered but I turn and gun down my assailant, and I hear something I wish I hadn't. Penelope gasp and then a crash and thud, I turn back and see her on the ground by a tree. I see red as I charge the basturd with my wife's axe, it grazed his leg only enough to cut through some muscle, possibly tendons. Then I see my spear and grab it.

"Still alive and are you the better one of you two" I wanted to roll my eyes but I was seething at what he did to my dearest heart, I look at her and see some movement and feel better.

"You'll pay for what-" he chuckled at me and stood there fixing his weapon into a scythe and to that I rolled my eyes. He charged at me, that I wasn't expecting, I block and get his shoulder with my spear and directed him away from Penelope.

"You know what? You and that little bitch wife of yours are the ones that will pay. If I had known that my explosive charges were in that shit house I would have just got you two" I chuckle at him, either way this man was a walking, talking corpse. Either by us or his own.

"But you were stupid, I get it" he huffed and struck but nothing my armor was thick and only created sparks. I cut into his side with Penelopes axe, it was satisfying to hear him wail out at that. That pissed him off, he struck over and over then my spear broke but so did his scythe staff.

"Just die you old basturd, I promise to make that pretty wife of yours my little chamber maid instead of teaching her a harsh lesson like I'll do you and those sons of yours" I let the scythe go and he misses dropping it but I plunge the rest the blade and broken wood into Dermot. Spear head in his armpit, broken wood in his shoulder toward his neck. I couldn't see but he had a hidden blade.

___________________

The smarmy shit was going to take a stab at my heart. I wasn't going to let that happen, I had managed to sneak up on him but this is where I get wreckless. I quickly stepped up behind him but he heard me and like that turns in time to run his machete in through my broken armor. But not before I use my hidden axe to lop off his fucking stupid head from his shoulders. I stand and see Jacob, face filled with joy then his eyes stare at the blade lodged in my side. He quickly steady me but I didn't want to die by the basturd I killed. I do my best to lead us by that tree I was thrown against. Jacob panted as he got me to rest in his lap, but as I look at him I knew I wasn't going to make it. I just think of home, a day that me, Jacob, the boys and my parents spending time together in Hope.

"Jacob, I love you. If I had found you-" Jacob shush me by kissing my face and mouth, his tears drop on my face.

"I know darling, I know. I would have loved to have been with you, sooner, and love you longer. I love you" Jacob crying was the worst heartbreak right now, his hands held me and caressed my face. My hands felt him before they went totally numb and-.

"Jacob. I'm glad we got to love each other, and that we had a baby from it. And we got to have a little family time.. tell our boys I love them, hug our littlest extra tight for me.." I choke up at the last bit, I could feel it, it was getting colder. I hated that gun fire was still happening a bit, I'm feeling weaker, feeling cold, the pain dispersed a little more. I could only accept it and know that I'm scared for a moment but the pain will be gone and maybe my brain will hallucinate something beautiful, at least I have Jacob.

Penelope kept looking at Jacob as her last breath was coming, she smiled at her only love knowing their life was so good.

It grew darker and the pain was non existent and all she knew was the man she loved, their life in the bunker, their family, and love of life.

___________________

"Penelope, baby, I love you. I won't ever stop loving you" I said looking at Penelope holding her so close, she kissed me one last time breathing each other one more time. And with that I did, once the life left, her arm fell down from my shoulder. I look down at her face, a small smile left, I tried rousing her hoping that this wasn't it but it was. Soon footsteps ran to us, voices going but I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but her face, wouldn't be happy unless she spoke. Even in my blurred vision she's so beautiful, and yet she was cool to the touch, I felt cold but I didn't want to acknowledge why, I knew what was there. Then they kneeled to me, I only held her close, I look away ready to fight, ready to go fearl for my lovely Penelope, my wife.

"Dad? Dad, is she? Is mom really gone?" my anger was replaced with grief seeing our boys with their souls crushed as I was gripping Penelope close to me. I just nodded yes, I couldn't believe it, it was reality though.

"Yes, she is gone" my voice cracked on the last word, we sat till the others came to find out where we were as we sat huddled to Penelope.

We put her in a temporary coffin and when we reached Hope County we buried her, I settled the boys and it felt odd without Penelope. But I swore I could feel her sleeping by me some nights and her little singing as she did things in the other room. I guess she isn't really gone, like her mom said spirits usually still come around and with how much I loved her she'll never truly be gone. Some days I feel and see Penelope hug and kiss sometimes.

(Note: this isn't in order also it's the end of my Penelope Thompson and Jacob Seed FC5/FCND fanfic series but any other of my Penelope Thompson and Jacob Seed AU's will be written. Because who doesn't like little fun/cute/romantic/soft/warm/sassy/chaotic/strong/holiday/time piece/themed/crossover AU stories? Everyone does, if not this maybe other fandoms)

#Penelope Thompson #Penelope Thompson Seed #Jacob Seed #Penelope Thompson Seed x Jacob Seed #Far Cry 5 fanfiction #Far Cry 5 fanfic #Far Cry 5 #fanfic #writing #this made me cry #Why'd I do that

9 notes · View notes

skoll-sun-eater · 1 month

Text

Chapter 16

New chapter and new deputy's arc.

My stories aren't necessarily happy, but there's more heavy shit to come. Anyhow, here's new thing for 'Revelations for the red horseman's daughter.' Remember to read to tags.

#far cry 5 fanfic #oc jenavieve seed #oc phedra dawson #oc deputy #sharky boshaw shows up a bit #darker than dark story #really dark and sad

3 notes · View notes

floral-and-fine · 2 years

Text

Change in Me part 2

Jacob Seed x female reader

part 1

warnings: modern AU

summary: Jacob is a retired veteran who reluctantly helps his new neighbor one day. As a way to say thank you, she invites him over for dinner. This leads to Jacob having conflicting feelings especially as their relationship progresses.

a/n: Sorry for the wait! I’ve had this done for awhile… hopefully I’ll start part 3 soon! Thank you @ewokiee

When the large work truck pulled into the yard next door, Judge, Meat, and Recruit all perked up, rising from their spots on the sofa and headed towards the door. Even Jacob was curious when he heard the truck door slam, slowly getting up from his chair, he wandered over to the window.

His curtains were drawn. In fact, they had been that way since that night. It was all part of his plan to ignore you. He stayed holed up in his house most of the day, only leaving when he was absolutely positive he wouldn’t run into you. Fortunately, you stuck to your usual schedule, making it easy for him to avoid you.

Though, he didn’t want to linger on the fact that he learned your whole routine in such a short time of you moving in. He also didn’t want to think about how he kept having those dreams about you even though he hadn’t seen you since dinner that night.

With his index finger, he carefully parted the curtains just enough to take a peek. His jaw clenched as he watched the stranger in his gray coveralls and tool belt nonchalantly approach your door.

Jacob huffed and turned away. He didn’t like this at all.

He paced back and forth, frowning while trying to convince himself that he didn’t care and that he didn’t want to be the one helping you. This was a good thing, you should get help from some other man. It was better than bothering him. Plus, this guy wouldn’t care, and you wouldn’t invite him for dinner, he was getting paid to do this after all.

But then he heard you laugh, it was a sweet little giggle that rang in the air lightly catching his attention. Immediately, he found himself at the window again, this time glaring at the exchange between you and the worker.

You swayed slightly side to side with your hands behind your back as you gave the stranger a friendly smile while explaining the issues you were having with the plumbing. The man was grinning like an idiot, in response, his hand rubbing the back of his head like he never spoke to a pretty girl before.

Jacob’s stomach twisted into knots, he hated himself for letting this get to him, he wished he never got involved with you at all, but what he wanted most this very moment was to punch that man’s stupid face.

Without thinking, Jacob marched outside. He had no idea what he was going to do or say, but he couldn’t ignore it and he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fool gush over you.

“Hey,” Jacob said gruffly, but still friendlier than usual, as he walked over to your house.

You blinked in surprise, but immediately smiled at Jacob. It was far better than the smile you gave the plumber. You looked happier, brighter, prettier for him. In fact, your entire face lit up and your eyes sparkled when you saw him.

That alone eased the rage he was feeling moments ago, he could tell you preferred him over this other guy.

Getting a better look at the stranger, Jacob wanted to laugh, he was obviously weak and puny, didn’t look too smart either. On plumber’s gray coveralls was a name patch that read Guy.

Jacob resisted the urge to knock him flat on his ass. Instead, he kept his eye on the prize and turned his attention towards you.

“What’s the problem?” Jacob asked, pushing past Guy as he walked up the porch stairs. He stood right between you and the wimp, making sure all you could see was him.

He could feel Guy staring at his back, probably angry at him for just showing up and interrupting his poor attempt at flirting with you.

“One of the drains is clogged and the water pressure in the shower is horrible,” you explained, looking up at Jacob.

“I see,” Jacob muttered quietly, before leaning in towards you. He was so close that you could feel his breath tickling your cheek as he continued. “Got a minute to talk?” He whispered.

“Sure,” you nodded, curious as to what he wanted to discuss.

In an oddly familiar fashion, Jacob placed his large hand on your lower back and guided you back inside your house. Before going into the house, he shot Guy an ugly look, somewhere between a scowl and a snarl.

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head.

“I can do it,” Jacob stated plainly.

“Do what?”

He sighed, “I can fix the clog and the water pressure.”

Your eyes went wide, stunned by his generosity once again. “Really?”

Jacob nodded looking at his boots for a moment, “It’s an easy fix.”

He didn’t know that for sure, plumbing was one of those things where a small job could easily turn into a big one, but he didn’t want that plumber around, so he’d do it and get it done.

“Oh my god! That would be such a big help!” You clapped your hands together and bounced on the balls of your feet. “And I’d much rather have someone I know than some strange man, especially with it just me and Bonnie in the house.”

Jacob looked up and met your eyes, he hadn’t really even considered it like that. Why hadn’t he? He knew better than most how dangerous this world can be, he knew not to trust people and keep them at a distance.

His eyes narrowed. You were right, absolutely right, with it just being you and the babe, it wasn’t safe or smart letting just anyone in. Perhaps that’s why he rushed over.

“Ever think about upgrading the security here? Better locks, maybe even a security camera or motion sensor lights?” He questioned, his mind already racing.

You shrugged, “Sounds great, but I can’t really afford all that right now.”

Jacob grit his teeth, mulling it all over.

“I better go explain to the plumber that his services are no longer needed,” you said, heading towards the door.

Jacob’s hand caught your arm, fingers wrapping around it right above the elbow. “We’ll talk more about the security stuff later, I’ve got some stuff around the house I ain’t using.”

“Thank you, Jacob.”

A sudden cry from upstairs drew your attention.

“Sounds like Bonnie just woke up from her nap,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you mind telling the plumber he can go?” You asked Jacob.

He nodded, watching for a moment as you rushed upstairs.

Jacob stepped back onto the porch, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at Guy. “You can go,” He said bluntly.

“Oh uh, but, what about…” Guy stammered almost incoherently, immediately stepping back as Jacob took another step forward.

Guy licked his lips nervously, “S-sorry about anything I may have said earlier to your girlfriend, didn’t know she was spoken for.”

Jacob paused, raising his eyebrow, but didn’t bother to correct him. “You better be,” he threatened, getting some kind of twisted pleasure watching the guy squirm.

“Yeah, of course, I'll just be on my way now,” Guy explained, practically running towards his truck, afraid to accidentally piss Jacob off.

As the work truck pulled away, Jacob relaxed a little, he felt triumphant watching the puny man scurry.

Figuring you still had your hands full, he went back to his house to gather some tools and supplies so he could get started right away.

…

Cleaning off his hands with an old rag, Jacob smirked watching the water run from the shower head. He did a damn pretty good, the water pressure was nice and strong, and the kitchen sink was draining again like it was brand new.

He felt a strange sort of satisfaction, on one hand he was proud of his work, of course, but he also felt good, he felt right. Taking care of you and your daughter felt right, even if you weren’t exactly his. Yet, there was a small voice in the back of his head that kept saying it was just a matter of time.

“Hey,” you chirped, popping your head in. “Turkey sandwiches alright for lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Jacob answered. “Just gotta clean up this mess and I’ll be down.”

You nodded before skipping back downstairs.

Walking down the steps, he paused at the last one and took in the scene before him. You were on the couch, your legs curled underneath you as you watched local TV while eating. Bonnie was on the rug, stacking blocks and babbling about all sorts of things. It was an endearing picture, simple and peaceful.

He noticed a plate sitting on the coffee table for him and the vacant spot on the couch across from it. Then a thought crossed Jacob’s mind that he was the piece missing from this picture.

Finally spotting him at the bottom of the staircase, you turned slightly and smiled patting the spot next to you. “Come have a break and some lunch!”

Jacob groaned a little as he sat down, he didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore. He picked up half of his sandwich and took a couple of big bites.

The noise of the TV was drowned out as he focused on eating. He wasn’t big on television or movies really, he used his time more productively, typically working on his home, garden, or preparing for the future. When he did relax he read or played with the dogs. Occasionally, he’d go camping or fishing for a few days. He wondered if you’d ever like to go with him. There was a place close by where he could rent a cabin by the lake, nice and remote. Suddenly he sensed you tensing beside him.

On the news, there was a report about a missing child, apparently the kid was taken from his home in the middle of night right from his bed.

Your eyes furrowed with worry and sadness, staring at the screen while the reporter went into further detail. Instinctively you reached out and held Jacob’s hand. You squeezed it tightly, becoming engrossed in the news story.

Jacob hadn’t really been paying attention until he felt your hand on his. He gazed over at you from the corner of his eye, your face was quite expressive, he could tell almost exactly what you were feeling and thinking.

You were concerned about the safety of your own child, thinking about how you would do anything to keep her safe. He knew it probably wasn’t easy to be a woman on her own, especially with a small child.

He almost missed the warmth of your hand as you pulled it away grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

“Sorry,” you muttered, unsure why you felt like you needed to apologize or explain. “But I couldn’t hear any more of that.”

He looked at you, and with a little hesitation patted your knee, “you’ll both be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes softened taking in the tough older man, he appeared so serious when speaking and honest, something about how his blue eyes didn’t waver when he spoke and the tone of his voice was calm and soothing.

Jacob cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how that may have come out, “We’ll get you set up with better security starting tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” you laughed lightly. “Of course.”

You saw Jacob out, carrying Bonnie in your arms. “Good night!”

“Night,” he muttered back.

Jacob could hear his dogs from the porch making a fuss, but his mind was preoccupied. He was already thinking of installing a motion sensor light outside your house, changing the locks to the front and back door, maybe he could even convince you to have one of the dogs over at your house. He’d pity anyone stupid enough to break into his home with his pack waiting. Either way, he’d make sure you were safe.

#reader insert #female reader #far cry 5 #jacob seed #fanfic #far cry fanfic #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #jacob seed x reader #jacob seed fan fiction #jacob seed fanfic

119 notes · View notes

snake-in-the-garden · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4 is Here!!!

Banner by @chazz-anova

Chapter 4: Word Gets Around

Summary: Ramona becomes a special interest to Eden’s Gate.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Ramona Belmont

Rating: M (for now)

Word count: 7.1k (oh god...!)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of past r*pe/s*xual assault, panic attacks, brief plane jacket slander, John and Jacob being themselves

A/N: Hey there...It's been too long since the last chapter due to me loosing some motivation to write everyday when winter hit. There's just something about the cold air and early night time that just takes a toll on me. Anyway I felt so bad about basically disappearing for months, I made this chapter way too long for what I usually write and it still came out like it was rushed. Ugh...Thanks to those who were patiently waiting to see more of Ramona and happy reading!

Taglist: @euaveri @turbo-virgins @eur0paa-2 @strafethesesinners @henbased @adelaidedrubman(I guess both of our girls aren’t special) @aceghosts @shallow-gravy @alexmalikplays @gxmergurl @thomrainer @lost-poets-poetry @svsunflowers @mr-krinkle @jfsfjjj

Prev. Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Masterlist || Taglist

Read it here or on Ao3

~~~

"I think an apology is in order," Mary May admitted. "From me, of course." Ramona arched an eyebrow as she stopped sipping on the red, fizzy beverage the blonde had gifted her. "You strutted in them Jimmy Choo's got me thinkin' you were one of John's people," Mary May continued. "I thought Sharky had made the same mistake as last time and I just went off makin' you think I was some sorta bigot." Speaking of Sharky, he had just left the bar a bit ago to check if the garage in town was open or not. Ramona would've gone herself if Sharky hadn't insisted.

"This happened before?" Ramona asked, resting her head in her hand.

"Sharky had brought one of them Peggie girls in here some years ago." Mary May grimaced at the memory. "She started goin' on about 'The Father this' and 'The Father that' so much I had to kick 'em out."

"I assume 'The Father' is Eden's Gate's leader," Ramona inferred.

"Yeah. Joseph Seed. Some man-bunned, shirtless weirdo who convinced practically half of the fuckin' county that he's some sorta prophet," the bartender informed. "But he's not the only one you should worry about."

Ramona leaned closer to Mary May, bracing herself on the counter with her forearms. "Pray tell."

"Well the one you just met was John, the youngest brother," Mary May began. "He's the cult's recruitment lapdog and the reason they're able to 'get away' with alotta shady shit." She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together to indicate someone being in someone else's pockets. "Then you got the oldest brother, Jacob. You can't miss 'em. He's a redheaded biggun who's basically the muscle of the cult. And finally there's Faith. She ain't blood but she's just as creepy as the rest of 'em."

Ramona sensed the blonde wasn't quite telling her everything about Eden's Gate. If these people were doing "illegal shit," she wanted to know about it. But with the way Mary May's voice slightly trembled and her blue eyes kept shifting, it probably wasn't a topic she wanted to be pressed about.

"Either way just keep away from 'em. You don't wanna get involved."

"I'll do what I can. Though I doubt I could avoid John since I'm so 'fascinating' to him."

"Oh please, you're not the only woman who's rejected him. He'll find someone else to harass. Probably."

"And here I thought I was special."

Mary May snorted.

~~~

"I didn't think one woman could get you like this." John grunted at the comment as he laid out on the couch with his arm resting on his face. The one who made the comment was Jacob sitting across from him.

"I'm not 'like' anything. I just hate how fast those sinners can act when it comes to corrupting someone," John frets as he sits up.

"From what you described, I can tell she ain't the type to fall for your 'charms' so easily," Jacob inferred while crossing his arms. "Considering she'd rather hang around the redneck and the barmaid."

John grimaced at his brother's statement. "She was just so…vicious. Wouldn't even entertain the thought of hearing me out for even a second. She was gorgeous though."

"I'm sure she was." the redhead stated as he set his feet up on the coffee table. John glared at the action only for Jacob to ignore it. "But it shouldn't be your dick's decision who we add to our ranks. It's Joseph's decision."

"Speaking of which; isn't Joseph supposed to be here by now?"

The two brothers were waiting on Joseph at the Seed Ranch to give their weekly reports on their recent progress with their work within the Project and to have dinner later. John and Jacob were both sure that it was Faith making Joseph late. Before anything else could be said, the front doors opened alerting them to Joseph entering the Ranch with Faith following close behind. John and Jacob stood up to make their way to the foyer to properly welcome their leader. "Good afternoon, brothers," Joseph greeted fondly. "I have something truly important I want to share with you." The siblings moved to the dining room while John ordered one of the faithful who were stationed at a Ranch to make coffee for them.

As the siblings settled, Joseph let out a heavy sigh, bringing in the others undivided attention. "The Voice spoke to me the night before and has told me that a wayward soul would come to us seeking answers." He then turned to John. "I've heard you met someone today at The Spread Eagle. A woman with brown skin, long black hair, and a tattoo in the middle of her back?" The youngest Seed pondered to himself about how much Joseph knew of the incident; half hoping that all he knew was that they talked. If you could call what happened "talking."

"Yes Joseph. A serpent and roses to be exact," John started as he sat up straighter. "My men made it known to me about a young woman coming into the county and I went to the bar to greet her. But it doesn't seem like she'd be seeking anything from us."

Joseph stiffened. "What do you mean?" The other siblings could feel the tension settling within the room. "Did something happen?"

"It was awful. She was so quick to be dismissive of our cause due to those sinners and---!" John faltered.

"Please John, calm yourself," Joseph soothed while still ridgid. "What are you trying to say?"

John took a breath. "All I'm saying is as it would please me to cleanse her, this woman's soul is probably too far gone due to the corruption of--."

Joseph held his hand up; silencing John's ramblings. The Prophet then stood up to look out the window. Hands behind his back and lets out a sigh. "Hey Joe, if you don't mind me asking," the eldest Seed spoke up, wanting to take his brother's coldness off of John. "Why did the 'Voice' deem this woman so damn important apart from the rest of the 'wayward souls' we took in before?" It was already known to Joseph that Jacob didn't believe in the higher power his brother answered to and he didn't expect him to. All Joseph asked from their protector was his loyalty.

Joseph turned back around to face his siblings. All waiting to hear his words. "The Voice has told me this woman would bring about a great upheaval to everything we've worked so hard on if she doesn't see the light and come join our family to help us guide our flock through the Gate into New Eden." A heavy weight was suddenly felt by the Heralds as their leader finished speaking. It usually wasn't so difficult for them to get people to join The Project. Unfortunate people with nowhere else to go were easy to attract when Eden's Gate advertised love and protection to any and everyone. The only price would be their unwavering devotion.

"And by 'upheaval' you mean…?" It was Faith's turn to speak up.

"The deaths of our faithful by the thousands, the destruction of our community, and the…downfall of our family," Joseph finished as he grasped Faith's shoulder warmly as if not to lose her to an unknown future. "So it's crucial we don't dawdle with this. Especially now."

The weight the Heralds felt earlier magnified after the Father's elaboration. "We won't disappoint you, Joseph," John impulsively exclaimed, feeling that last comment was directed at him. He hoped his enthusiasm would make up for his supposed transgression from earlier. He then looked to the other two, expecting them to follow along. They simply nodded. Joseph smiled in appreciation of their loyalty. "I'm sorry if I scared you, but I just needed you all to know how important it is for her to join our family," he explained while getting up to leave the room. The others stood up with him. "If there's nothing else to be discussed, I think I'll see how that garden John mentioned the other day is doing before we start dinner." Happy to get his brother out of the room, John gave a quick "of course" and signaled two of his faithful on standby to accompany their leader in the backyard.

Just as Joseph leaves the room, John exhales. "I'm glad that's over." It was unknown if the other two felt the same, but it was likely that the feeling wasn't mutual.

"So, how are we doin' this?" Jacob asked. "Like Joe said, we can't exactly wait around for her."

"She just needs more convincing," John assured, not letting on what that would entail.

"We can't hurt her or anything," Faith chimed in. "The Father wouldn't like that."

"I know!" he retorted, causing her to make an amused noise at his reaction. "We're just going to have to be smart about this."

We're? Jacob and Faith weren't usually included when it came to recruiting people for the Project, but they weren't going to question anything John was about to suggest. Especially since time was of the essence.

~~~

It looked exactly how it did in the pictures. One story, simple porch with a swing, huge front yard, a garage shed big enough for Rosa, and a field across the road. Ramona didn't know if she should be relieved to have finally made it to her new home or regretful for making such an impulsive decision. How was she going to manage a house like this? She knows it's already furnished, but there were other things she probably should've considered before coming here. A reliable food source, job security, clothing, and--!

"Hey, what's up? Thought I lost you for a second," Sharky exclaimed, waving his hand in front of Ramona's face and interrupting her frantic thoughts. She had forgotten that he was even here, which was kind of bad of her to do since if it wasn't for him, she would still be stuck on the side of the road. "Sorry Sharky. I was just taking it all in," Ramona explained while trying not to get put off by the blue eyes studying her face. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way. You probably had other things to do rather than help me." Sharky rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "Nah it was nothin'. But to tell you the truth, I was supposed to meet up with my cousin Hurk…" He frowned as he checked his watch. "...two hours ago." Ramona noticed the negative shift in his tone of voice and decided she had taken enough of his time. Most of that time being used to get a new battery, driving back to Rosa to install it, and then following Sharky here.

"Then you should probably get going. You don't want to keep him waiting."

"It's alright. I can help with your bags."

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

An unpleasant memory took hold just after Sharky made his offer. She turned her back. "No. You've done enough. Please leave."

Sharky exhaled noisily through his pursed lips and abruptly took a step backwards away from the woman's sudden coldness. For Ramona, it was already bad enough she had to show some guy she just met where she was going to be living, now he wanted to come inside? Alone with her? No way. "Alright. That's fine. I see where you're gettin' at. I'll go," Sharky complied, sounding dismayed. For a split second, Ramona wanted to turn around to say she had changed her mind. But when she actually did, he was already heading back to his truck. Accepting her missed chance, Ramona trudges on to Rosa to finally unload her. "Hey 'Mona!" She turned her attention to Sharky, who Ramona thought would've left already.

"Welcome to Hope County!" There was that crooked smile again.

And with that, Sharky takes off in his truck leaving Ramona confused about how this guy felt about her. It wasn't too much of a concern, but it was pretty weird for someone to shake off having the cold shoulder being directed at them. Oh well.

~~~

"Mrs. Belmont, I know you're upset, but I don't think we can classify this incident as anything more than a misunderstanding turning into a physical altercation." An older, timid man's voice is heard. "Happens all the time with students."

"Bullshit. This 'misunderstanding' scarred my baby's face because she didn't want some nasty boy putting his hands on her." Ramona then hears the outraged voice of her mother.

"The other student has already claimed in his statement that you're daughter fell after--"

"After he tried to rape her."

Ramona heard a huff of frustration next to her followed by a gentle hand rubbing her back after hearing her mother spit out the accusation. It was the soothing hand of Ramona's father who had let his wife handle the meeting.

"It's gonna be okay Rammy." After hearing her father's words, Ramona turned her head to see his reassuring face.

But she never gets to as Ramona's dream fades to white. She wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling which gets her heart racing. Ramona shoots up from her laying position and frantically looks around her new home only to realize she fell asleep on the couch. Ramona puts her head in her hands to calm herself, feeling moisture on her palms. It's okay. Waking up to tears in her eyes after having that dream wasn't anything new for her.

You're okay. You're okay.

Ramona's legs wobbled a bit as she stood up to see one of her unpacked bags at her feet. She sighed to herself realizing all the work which still needed to be done. The woman looked at her phone to see that it was almost 10:30 pm, realized she'd napped for way too long, and decided all that would be "next day Ramona's" problem. It was time for bed anyway. Ramona did her usual nighttime hair routine, brushed her teeth, and changed into one of the sets of pajamas she'd brought. Ramona didn't think much of her new bedroom. It was simple and minimally decorated with the essentials. Basically a blank canvas setup for her to project herself on to make this house into a home. Her home. Ramona settled into bed and tried to ignore the slight musty smell the comforter gave off. Maybe she'll finish that dream.

~~~

It was the crack of dawn when Ramona was able to call her parents, letting them know she made it to Hope County okay. But that was after multiple "fine's", "alright's", and "okay's" in response to her mother's light scolding about not calling sooner and her father's repetitive questions about Rosa's condition. Even though she wasn't able to get a full sentence in, hearing her parent's voices soothed Ramona's nerves. Somehow during their conversation, her mother mentioned a letter left somewhere in the house for her to read. Ramona assured her she'd read it later.

The woman was now free to assess what she needed to do for today. The lingering smell of must and her stomach growling suggested her first two tasks of the day. Good thing she remembered the general store in Fall's End. As she combed out her hair, a loud, rapid knocking was heard, startling Ramona. Who could that be? No seriously. Who else knows she's living here besides Sharky? She doubts he'd come back after being on the receiving end of her iciness from yesterday but anything could happen. If it is him, Ramona would just take this as an opportunity to apologize. Something told her Sharky would accept it.

The knocking continued to Ramona's annoyance as she quickly threw on a hoodie while hurrying to the front door. The woman then frowned when she opened the door and saw it was actually John, holding a thick white book under his arm, who decided to drop by. Along with two other men, both wearing white uniforms, who were of course, glaring at her. "Good morning," John greeted, showing off that smile again.

"Uh…good morning to you too?" It was the only thing Ramona could say after believing she wouldn't see this man again anytime soon. "What brings you by?"

John gave out a light chuckle. "I didn't mean to disturb you so early, but I felt it was imperative for you and I to make amends after what happened yesterday," he informed while inching closer to her. "May I come in? I was hoping we could talk some more too."

Ramona held out her hand; palm almost touching her visitor's chest. "You and I are good out here."

"PIease, I must insist. I want to make this right with you."

"And I must insist we're good out here." Ramona closes the door behind her and leans against it to make her point even clearer. "So let's talk."

Why are the men around here so eager to come into my home? John let out a soft sigh and clutched his book. "Alright. Have it your way then." He then signaled his men to step away from them so the two could have some privacy. The men nodded and obeyed without a second thought. "Now let me start off by saying I'm sorry for how…brash I was yesterday at the bar," John offered. "It was shameful of me to make such a bad first impression on you." Despite how obvious it was that John could have other intentions behind this, Ramona could at least hear some remorse in his voice. But she couldn't let her guard down just yet.

"Well John, I appreciate you coming to--."

John casually cuts her off. "I would also like to take this opportunity to properly introduce to you the key to your salvation." He cradled the white hardcover within his forearm, proudly presenting it to Ramona. "Without any distractions." It was titled The Word of Joseph.

There it is.

Ramona wasn't too enthused about having to listen to a possible cult member's spiel about her needing to be "saved." She's still not sure from what exactly. John had hastily mentioned the Collapse yesterday which sparked her curiosity. Ramona nodded, indicating to her guest that he could start. "Eden's Gate is a loving community for lost souls who have been wronged by the world and corrupted by sin," John commenced. "It is our job to cleanse those of their sins in order for them to enter through the Gate after the Collapse so that we can create a new world." Ramona crossed her arms after hearing what sounded like another one of those "it's the end times so give us your money" pitches televangelists like to use. "Is that what you think I am; a 'lost soul'?" Ramona questioned. "What makes you think this? We literally just met yesterday." John tucked the book back under his arm and straightened up the tacky looking jacket he was wearing; preparing for another pitch.

"My older brother Joseph, or The Father as he's lovingly referred to, has recently told my siblings and I you were meant to join our family," John informed, again stepping closer. "A wayward soul looking for a place in the world. Something we could provide for you."

Ramona put her hands on her hips. "Again, I ask. What makes you think that?" she asks, increasingly getting more annoyed.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he commented teasingly. "I saw you were a young woman traveling alone, willing to practically jump into the arms of anyone who looked your way. No matter how unsavory their true intentions were." John's tone darkens at the last part.

Ramona rolled her eyes at his claim. Yes, it was true she impulsively got into a car with a complete stranger, but she didn't have a choice. Plus Sharky respected her boundaries right off the bat when she established them. "I never 'jumped' into anyone's arms. I was offered help and I took it," Ramona retorted. Possibly a little too defensively. "Besides, it's none of your business I'm traveling alone." John took another step closer, causing her to step back. "Actually, we at Eden's Gate make it our business to keep those vulnerable enough from being dragged down into the trenches of sin," John states eerily, his blue gaze momentarily stunning the woman. "And Miss. Fairgrave was willing to do just that." Ramona's ears perked up when he mentioned Mary May.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"Miss. Fairgrave and I had our…quarrels in the past."

"Quarrels? What happened?"

"She just couldn't accept her brother wanting to be with us. Obviously envious of the close bond he had with the rest of the congregation and tried so desperately to take that happiness away from him."

Ramona was silent; recounting how hateful Mary May was of Peggies and wondering if what John was saying was even true. Probably not.

John continued. "To cope with this, she and her lot spread lies about Eden's Gate to anyone who would believe them."

"Right…So the claim of you using money to get whatever Eden's Gate is doing around legal barriers is not true then?"

With the way John immediately frowned and glowered after the woman's probing question; it was obvious she made a mistake. "I don't mean any harm. I just need to know what--." Ramona's explanation was cut short as John abruptly strides forward to firmly thrust the book against her chest, causing her to be essentially trapped between her guest and the front door hard on her shoulder blades. Causing her to panic. "We do what is necessary to secure the future of Eden's Gate," John said harshly, increasing the pressure on Ramona's chest causing her. "Some may not agree with our methods, but I assure you, Miss. 'Bel-mawn', you will reconsider your ill-conceived notions about us if you take the time to listen." Along with being blindsided by John's sudden ambush, Ramona's blood ran cold when her last name, though mispronounced, fell from John's lips. She had never told him her name and had made it quite clear he didn't deserve to know yesterday. It was doubtful either Mary May or Sharky had told John; especially since she didn't even tell them her last name.

"Who told you my last name?" Ramona demanded, strained and on the verge of having a panic attack.

"This residence's previous owner," John complied. "Your uncle."

James! "How do you know him?" she pressed.

"I didn't personally know him. But a few years ago I paid him and his wife a visit to welcome them to the county and introduce them to Eden's Gate."

Ramona continued staring at him. "Go on."

"Well I couldn't really give a proper introduction due to him interrupting me with stories of his travels which ultimately lead him here. And his wife…spirited…shooed me out saying they weren't interested and they never will be," John reminisced bitterly. Possibly showing a bit of his true self.

Ramona had to fight to keep her face from cracking into a smile at the thought of James and Jackie giving John the runaround to avoid his proselytizing. She almost forgot her current situation. He continued. "But through all that nonsense, your uncle kept bringing up a certain someone. Someone I thought I'd never run into after all this time." John took a moment to caress a loose raven tress belonging to his captive before he got close to her ear.

"His favorite niece; Ramona Octavia Belmont," he chillingly whispered.

Ramona thought nothing of it when she gathered her strength and sent John tumbling backwards off the porch and onto the ground. Her personal space had been violated far enough. After hearing their superior's yelps of pain as he landed, the men rushed to John's aid.

"Brother John! Are you okay!?" one fretted.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands upon our Baptist!?" the other scolded.

"You're unworthy in receiving the Father's Word!" the first one accused.

Ramona remained on the porch, looking down at them heavily panting, only getting more pissed off. "Here, take it then!" the irate woman shouted while throwing John's "gift" near them. "Tell Joseph he's got the wrong woman 'cause I don't want the 'key to my salvation' if it means I have to deal with some creep who doesn't know the meaning of personal space!" Ramona would be lying if she didn't think seeing John flat on his ass in the dirt was amusing, but of course, in a moment of clarity, she realized this was the exact opposite of what she was advised to do. That clarity caused Ramona to almost immediately regret her actions when she realized she could be arrested for this. Even if John was the one who started it. The woman's heart started to pound as she braced for his reaction, but John just sat there hanging his head. Ramona thought about saying something to him but decided against it assuming she'd just make it worse for herself.

"You know Miss. Belmont. All of that…anger you harbor deep inside needs to be cleansed. Which I as your future Baptist will personally see to," John affirmed, ignoring the insult while sporting a wicked, chilling smile. Ramona felt a slight surge of nausea. "The Project has a place for you, especially someone of your profession. A social worker who gives counsel to those in need is someone who'd be perfect for us." Ramona just stood there unimpressed by his shallow praises and also wondering how much James had told this man about her. "If you're offering me a job, I'll have to decline," she dismissed while stepping a few paces forward. One of John's men quickly helped him up while the other scrambled to collect the sullied book from the dusty ground. Both looked hopeful to see him stand up against his assailant. John proceeded to casually dust himself off.

"Are you sure that is a wise decision to make? Financially managing a property of this size might be too much for one woman. Perhaps I could take it off your--," John began.

"No, that's not happening. Besides, it's already paid off," Ramona shot back, taking her turn to interrupt him for a change. "In fact, I have the documents to show for it."

"I bet you do," he responded sourly. "But you are sorely mistaken if you really think material possessions will help you during the Collapse."

"Then what will help, huh?" she challenged, hotly. "Tell me so you can leave already."

To Ramona's surprise, John didn't retort with a quick remark at her prodding. All the man did was signal to his men to hand him the book. The order is followed and John once again presents his gift to Ramona. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," he states. "I believe you should hear it from the Father himself. He's better at this." The way John said that made it obvious he was getting tired of her too. Ramona looks down at the book. "Huh? I thought I made myself clear I didn't want the--." John held his hand up. "I know. I'm telling you the Father is giving a sermon about the Collapse this Sunday and will be delighted to answer any questions you may have. The address is behind the front cover," he noted earnestly. "But if you choose not to come, will you at least take his Word? I won't bother anymore after today if you do." Ramona sighed and promptly took the book from him, doubting he'd even keep his promise.

"I'll at least think about it. But if I do come to the sermon, it won't mean I'm joining your cult."

"It's not a--! Of course. But every cynic I've met says that at first, but then sees the light after they hear--."

"I mean it! I'm only going for myself and for you to leave me alone."

"So you will be attending?"

"Get off my property!"

While slightly startled by Ramona's outburst, John kept his promise as he and his men made their way back to the white truck they came in. "Farewell Miss. Belmont, I hope to see you this Sunday," John bids. The woman didn't say anything back as she stormed back into her house and slammed the door behind her. Ramona let out a short cry of frustration when she angrily threw the book a few feet away from herself, causing a harsh, loud thud on the wooden floor kicking dust up. She pressed her back against the front door and slid down to the floor when her legs felt weak. Reeling from the ordeal, dizziness and a rapid heart rate from earlier took hold while a ringing noise resonated within her head. Ramona started to feel hot and short of breath, so she clumsily removed her hoodie for supposed relief. But it wasn't enough. The pounding in her chest causes her to curl up on the floor, trembling and hyperventilating. The combinations of these symptoms were all too familiar to Ramona as a quick memory of her alone in her college dorm in the same position flashed in her mind. Despite the pains in her chest and nausea, Ramona forces herself to sit up halfway to regain control.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He can't hurt you. You are safe now. As Ramona inhaled and exhaled, she thought back to all the times she had to do this exercise to get through the first part of freshman year. She hoped these episodes won't be a common occurrence since Ramona wanted a fresh start, but achieving that seemed impossible now. Although Ramona had told John "no" to joining Eden's Gate and denied their "prophecy," she still made it known her interest was piqued; so it was likely they would still try to convince her. The dulling ache in her chest and decreasing heart rate allowed Ramona to sit up fully and the softening buzzing in her ear and her body stabilizing enabled her to think clearly. Ramona decided it would probably be best to listen to Mary May's advice more carefully and avoid them as much as possible--starting now.

~~~

Finding the way back to Fall's End wasn't difficult. A few left turns and then a left was easy for Ramona to remember which is going to be important since the general store might be her only source for food and other essentials she'll need in the future. After finding an appropriate parking place for Rosa, the woman made her way into the store. She made note of the small size and the Americana decor; hoping the store owner's patriotism was just an aesthetic. To Ramona's surprise, she didn't draw any attention to herself like yesterday. She figured dressing in Hope County-appropriate attire she found in the closet would do that. Thanks Auntie. As Ramona proceeded to fulfill her shopping list of necessities, she overheard two people, a man and a woman dressed in hunting gear, talking a few feet away. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you really think we can keep living like this?" the woman asked, sounding stressed. "I don't think I can take any more of this."

"Would you rather we'd live like brainwashed zombies?" the man asked her in turn, using a tone Ramona didn't like. "Our bunker is the only safe place from them taking over."

"I got that. But stocking that bunker is making you and others paranoid about something that may not happen."

"We know what we're doing. You think those Seed-fuckers made their people tote around those guns just for show? We're just looking out for ourselves since the cops aren't doing anything."

Ramona didn't hear the woman's response when she left the aisle and moved on to the dairy section so she wouldn't get caught being nosey. Brainwashing? Guns? This new information about Eden's Gate made Ramona realize it probably had to do with the "illegal shit" Mary May hinted at. Despite not wanting to probe her anymore about uncomfortable topics, Ramona would've appreciated the heads up about a confirmed violent cult who now had their eyes on her. Now she's definitely sure John won't leave her alone and most likely lying about what really happened between him and Mary May.

Back to the task at hand. Ramona reached up to grab vanilla coffee creamer from the top shelf only for her nails to barely brush against it. She internally cursed her height and whoever made this refrigerator. Not wanting to completely give up, she tried again, but failed again when another hand easily grabbed it instead. The owner of the hand was a tall, curvy woman with long dark, curly hair and dark brown eyes which were warm and inviting. She was very pretty.

"Here you go," the woman offered. "This was what you wanted, right?" She was referring to the creamer.

"Yeah it was. Thank you." Ramona acknowledged while accepting the small carton.

"A word of advice. If you're going to be listening to other people's conversations; you should at least do it from somewhere they wouldn't see you," the woman suggested bluntly and flickered her eyes to the side.

Ramona's stomach dropped when she quickly turned her head to see the aforementioned couple, now scowling, rip their gaze away from the two women and shuffled off.

"I'm just telling you from experience."

Ramona couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of herself. She swore off anything Eden's Gate related, but her curiosity about them kept piquing even though every new piece of information about them just kept getting worse. But then again, any knowledge about the cult would keep Ramona from being ignorant of anything that would pose them as a threat to her. Even if it wasn't coming from a direct source. Anything to not talk to the Seeds again. "Sorry for asking but, do you know anything about Eden's Gate?" she asked, "Also my name is Ramona." The woman pursed her plush lips and loosely crossed her arms under her chest. "Deirdre. I'm a vet at the F.A.N.G. Center in the mountains. I've been living here with my husband and his family for about 10 years, so I...uh….know enough," she divulged tentatively. "They're a doomsday cult preparing for the Collapse. An apocalyptic event." Ramona figured that much on her own. But it was way better than the common "stay away from them" she kept hearing.

"Is there any real way to get them off my back for good?"

"Nope. Since you just moved here, Eden's Gate is not going to leave you alone anytime soon. They love new people."

"Wait, how do you know I just moved here?"

Deirdre frowned and averted her eyes.

"Hey Dee, what's takin' you so long?" Ramona inhaled sharply when she saw the owner of the rough, male voice appear from behind the row of shelves beside them. "Oh. You made a friend." A tall, scarred man with red hair went to stand beside Deirdre, putting his large hand on her shoulder. Combined with Mary May's description and the J. Seed stitched on the sleeve of his camo jacket; she concluded this was Jacob Seed. Ramona made a quick glance at Deirdre. She was still avoiding eye contact. Ramona put two and two together and it all made sense. John probably told Jacob about what happened and probably wanted to take a crack at recruiting the "lost soul". Not to risk straining her neck anymore, Ramona backed up a bit to accommodate her intake of Jacob’s imposing stature. Which wasn’t a bad sight. She definitely didn't lie about the "biggun" and "muscle" part.

"I thought you were waiting outside," Deirdre pointed out crossly.

"I was. But you were takin' too long and folks were givin' me the stink eye. 'Specially that idiot pilot." Jacob stated. He then pointed his gaze at Ramona. "So you're the woman my brother's been talkin' about?"

She sighs. "Yeah. Why? Is it your turn to harass me?" Ramona retorted, suddenly becoming bold. "One of you was bad enough today."

"Heh no. After what happened between you and Johnny, I don't think I wanna tangle with you," he teased. "'Sides, I don't do the door to door shit."

"Then what do you do?"

"All you need to know at the moment is that I keep the congregation safe. And in line."

Remembering the mention of guns earlier, Ramona had a pretty good guess about what that could mean. It wasn't something she wanted to discuss further with him and was grateful he didn't take it upon himself to do so. She looked at Deirdre. She wondered how deep her involvement with Eden's Gate went. If it was beyond being married to one of the brothers. Telling from her tone, Deirdre also didn't seem too interested in discussing anything. Which was also fine. But she could help but be worried. Black women and religious cults run by white men have never been a good match. "I should probably finish up and pay for these," Ramona spoke up, sensing an opportunity to leave. "It was nice talking to you." Deirdre perked up. "I can pay for your groceries if you want," she suggested. "Y'know for your troubles." Jacob made a disapproving face which Deirdre ignored. Ramona thought about what happened between her and John and decided this should make up for it. She accepted the offer.

~~~

"These people act like we're the scum of the earth, but they'll still take our money," Jacob commented, sounding amused. He was referring to the store clerk who gave the group a dirty look while processing the payment. The three were currently outside the general store and Ramona was about to see the couple off. "I guess dressin' up your store like the Fourth of July was really just for show." Deirdre rolled her eyes and saw that Ramona was confused. "The locals here put up American flag stuff to show they're against Eden's Gate," she clarified. "It started happening after the congregation grew." Ramona could tell that wasn't entirely true.

"Hey Dee. How 'bout you wait in the truck while I talk to our friend here before we leave." Deirdre looked between her husband and Ramona and sighed. "Alright." The eldest Seed was mincing his words earlier about his role within Eden's Gate, so what would he possibly want to talk about now. And without his wife present at that. After Deirdre settles herself within the passenger seat of their truck; Jacob leaned his back against it, facing Ramona while crossing his arms.

"While I do think Johnny probably deserved what you did to him this morning, you gotta be smart about who you push away and who you align yourself with."

"What are you talking about? I thought you weren't going to--!"

"Down kitten. I'm just tellin' you this for your own good. Apparently Joe sees somethin' in you and he's usually right."

"Well he's wrong. And Like I told your brother, I'm not meant to join your cult and you can't convince me otherwise!"

"You say that now, but when the time comes, you'll make the right choice."

"Don't count on it."

Despite her stomach twisting in knots, Ramona immediately strode off from Jacob to where Rosa was parked, hearing the couple's truck drive off behind her. She knew people who were involved with cults were self-righteous, but having someone declare what's "good" for her for the second time today was just infuriating. Also frightening. The woman was surprised that Jacob's familiar, intense blue glare and ominous tone he used while practically threatening her didn't put her in another state of panic. Ramona guessed one was enough for today.

Head buzzing with rushing, irritating thoughts, Ramona hastily loaded her car, just eager to get back home. "You okay, Miss?" The woman popped up her head to the sound of another male voice. She saw a man wearing aviators and a shirt with a logo that read Rye & Sons Aviation parked next to her. Aviation? Was this the "idiot" pilot? "That Seed bastard was botherin' you, right?" Ramona let out a sigh and closed the passenger door. She wasn't mad at him or anything; strangers coming up to talk to her when she wasn't in the mood was getting exhausting.

"Unfortunately. Even though this is only my second day here, Eden's Gate has already decided I'm meant to be with them. Whatever that means."

The man furled his lip and shook his head. "That's how they get you," the man started, a rant seemingly brewing. "Damn Peggies make you feel all 'special' when all they really wanted was your plane."

Ramona blinked. "Plane? I don't have a plane?"

"Ah shit! I'm sorry! Got carried away and started talkin' 'bout myself." The man held out his hand. "I'm Nick Rye of Rye and Son's Aviation. I was talkin' 'bout my plane, Carmina."

Ramona, slightly amused at the confusion, shook Nick's hand.

"I heard from Mary May you've already met John. That fucker's been tryin' to get my plane for years after actin' all buddy-buddy and shit with me at first. Them Peggies been harassin' my family so bad my wife Kim, who's smaller than you, had to punch one of 'em. Died down a bit after that and she didn't get in trouble for it."

"I'm sorry you were going through that. Eden's Gate might want my house, but other than that it's just 'me' they want so badly. I don't know what to do."

"Well if I were you, I'd go up to Joseph after one of their sermons and show 'em you mean business."

Ramona didn't quite know what Nick meant, but if it was relating to what his wife did, she's quite sure she won't get away with that. Taking that part out, going straight to the source of her problems seems like something she could work with. Ramona could go to the sermon and hopefully get Joseph to have his brothers to lay off and rethink this whole "prophecy" about her. Of course Ramona would have to figure out the details of this plan so it can be somewhat sound. "Thank you Nick. I'll put some thought into your suggestion." The pilot did a slight smile, noticing a change in her voice from earlier. "Well alright then! Maybe you can come by and I'll give you some flyin' lessons. Carmina's the big yellow one." She froze a bit. "I-I'll think about that too." His smile got bigger. "Great!"

Ramona didn't have the heart to tell Nick she was afraid of heights.

33 notes · View notes

strafethesesinners · 1 year

Text

WIP holy crap I actually have something day

tagged by many many people over the past few weeks but most recently I think by @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @henbased @ishwaris and @multiverse-of-themind

Tagging: @unleashed111 @depyotee @deputyash @harmonyowl @nuclearstorms @belorage @unholymilf @purplehairsecretlair @derelictheretic @josephslittledeputy @a-far-cry-from-my-main @havingsomemorejohnlarks @amistrio @cobb-vanthss @chyrstis and whoever else feels like sharing

Here’s a little scene from my uh still technically not begun reworked fic, a little ways down the line after John’s been kicked out. Other than that not sure exactly where this fits I just wanted to get it out here

John slipped from between two large supply crates towards a stack of barrels, as quickly as he dared. It was risky, but he had to hear what Joseph and Jacob were saying as they moved toward Cooper’s cage.

“…..due respect, Joseph, you don’t know this man,” Jacob’s gruff voice came through faintly but clearly as John’s two brothers walked a few feet from him.

“I do know him, Jacob,” Joseph’s voice was stern, but soft, always calm unless he had a reason to raise it for emphasis. John felt a twist to his stomach at the sound of it. The last time he had heard that voice, Joseph had been handing down his sentence. Not shouting, but in a ringing and final tone that quelled all argument.

“The Voice showed him to me long before he appeared in our church that night, long before he came to our county, even,” Joseph continued.

“Yes, Joseph, I understand that but…”

“You think the Voice was wrong? Or I perhaps misinterpreted it?”

“No of course not, I just don’t see what we have to gain by keeping this man alive, he’s” Jacob paused, clearly searching for the right words, “a menace.”

John knew exactly how Jacob was feeling. Cooper had caused Eden’s Gate no end of trouble since the war had begun. It was a miracle they had caught him at all. It must be difficult for a military man like Jacob to keep such an obvious threat alive. But Joseph must have his reasons, for which John was grateful. He hadn’t protested when Jacob had thrown Cooper in a cage; starved him, beat him. He was on thin enough ice with his eldest brother as it was. But at his core, he did not wish to see Cooper die.

Joseph and Jacob had stopped just in front of the cage holding the deputy. Carefully, John crouch walked between two empty cages close by, keeping the one draped in tarp between him and Joseph’s line of sight. He peaked out; Joseph was turned toward Jacob and Cooper so John felt he should be alright to watch if he kept still and quiet. Staci Pratt stood nearby, cowering, watching. Cooper was lying on the ground, apparently asleep, but sat up as the two men approached the cage. Joseph motioned for Jacob to stay back a step. John swallowed at how slowly and weakly Cooper moved.

“I know you’re in pain,” Joseph murmured, voicing John’s thoughts aloud, almost too softly to hear, “the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away….”

Joseph crouched in front of the cage, bringing himself to Cooper’s eye level. Cooper watched him, his expression completely blank. John chewed at his lips nervously. Joseph was much too close. Jacob also shifted uncomfortably, clearly of the same mind as John. But he did nothing.

“You know I had a wife once?” Joseph began, rolling up his sleeve to expose the tattoo of his long dead spouse. Then he stuck his arm through the bars of the cage.

John bit down hard on his knuckles to avoid shouting a warning; Jacob leapt forward. But it was too late.

Cooper moved with the speed of a striking rattlesnake; he grabbed Joseph’s arm and snapped it against the bars like a stick of celery.

Joseph cried out, lurching backwards, but again, not fast enough. Cooper reached through the bars, wrapping his vice like hands around Joseph’s throat. He jerked Joseph forward, slamming his head against the bars, and began to squeeze.

“Pratt! Get that cage open now!” Jacob barked. He dashed forward and gripped Cooper’s arm, trying to prise his hands loose, all while Joseph spluttered hideously.

“Fuck!” Jacob swore as his efforts came to nothing, he let go and drew his hand gun, pointing it at Cooper’s head.

“Let go,” he growled, “let go or I’ll kill you now and face the consequences.”

Cooper glared up at him, his face twisted into an animalistic half snarl, half grin, but did not loosen his grip. Joseph’s grew redder and redder. Pratt fumbled with the keys but he was taking too long. Jacob steadied his hands and fired.

John’s stomach dropped. All the air stolen from his lungs. He fell against the side of the cage next to him in shock; most likely making too much noise but no one was paying attention. Then he saw Cooper fall back finally, bleeding from his arm, and sank to the ground in relief. Joseph was safe. Cooper wasn’t safe but he wasn’t dead either. Jacob pulled Joseph back away from the cage as the Father groaned in pain.

“Helicopter! Now!” Jacob shouted orders at his men who were just now appearing to investigate the gunshot, “the father is hurt!”

“The father is hurt!” The message passed through the men who scattered, fetching help as if their own lives were at stake. Pratt finally unlocked Cooper’s cage.

“You,” Jacob snapped at him, “see to his wound, and be careful! I’ll deal with you later.”

Jacob lifted Joseph carefully and hurried away. John exhaled slowly once they were out of sight. He was shaking. He realized his knuckles were bleeding where he had bitten them. He used the bars of the cage to pull himself to his feet and walked over to Cooper’s cage, where Pratt was wrapping a gauze around the bullet wound in Cooper’s arm. A film of sweat shone on Cooper’s brow and he was grimacing, but still he said nothing; made no sound.

“Cooper,” John croaked, and the deputy looked up, meeting John’s gaze defiantly. “Why?”

Cooper stared at him for the longest time, then finally, he just shrugged.

#wip Saturday #wip Friday #it’s both ok #oc: Cooper McCoy #John Seed #John Seed/oc #Joseph Seed #Jacob Seed #far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #fc5 fic #far cry 5 fanfic #fc5 fanfic

47 notes · View notes

aceghosts · 1 year

Note

Chin lift to make you look directly at their eyes that just make you follow aimlessly and without much force really. (bonus if they kiss afterward) - Blue and Joseph

Thank you for sending this one as well! Sorry, it took a little longer. (Also, shout out to @derelictheretic for the banner.)

[Prompt List]

Summary: Deputy Blue Murphy really needs to leave, especially before Joseph Seed gets to them.

Words: 887 words.

Content Warnings: Despite the ominous summary, this is mainly fluff. Just a brief reference to pregnancy and canon-typical violence.

AO3

Blue lifts their navy-blue baseball cap, running a hand through their brownish-blonde hair. They let out a relieved sigh, glad to see the couple disappear into the room with the nurse. When they stumbled upon the pregnant wife and her husband earlier, Blue couldn’t leave them on the side of the road by their broken-down truck, even if they were part of Eden’s Gate. That seemed to be a running theme in their life lately. Someone, Peggie or Resistance, needed help, and Blue was unable to stand by, drawn by the urge to help. It’s what anyone else would have done, they reassure themself. But Blue knows of certain Resistance members who would have left them there or worse.

However, that notion to help left Blue in an odd position with the Peggies. They were confused by the idea that Blue could help a kid with a broken leg but go back to blowing up silos within the same day. Yet, some of them, namely a certain father figure, believed that it meant Blue could be redeemed, become a full-fledged Peggie. They snort as they place their cap back on their head. Blue’s loyalty was with the Resistance, which they needed to get back to. If they were smart about it, Blue could disappear before the Peggies realized they had left. Since Sharky and Hurk weren’t with Blue, it would mean fewer explosions. Hopefully.

“The Deputy is here?” Oh no.

“Yes, Father. Just this way.”

Well, shit. Tucking their baseball cap down further, Blue heads for the nearest door away from the voices. They step out into the warm Montana sunlight, keeping their face down. A traitorous part of Blue wants to go back inside, let Joseph find them. The responsible part of Blue, for once, wins out as they steadily continue towards the truck. Blue’s loyalty is to the Resistance.

And it almost works. They reach the dark green truck, opening the slightly scratched driver’s door. Freedom is so close that Blue can almost taste it. “I thought I might have missed you; I’m glad that God allowed our paths to cross.” They freeze, like a deer in headlights, torn between two choices. Scramble into the truck and get the hell out of dodge. Or turn around and face Joseph. “Blue.”

Unable to resist the siren call, Blue turns toward him, keeping their gaze down towards their brown, slightly scuffed working boots. They can’t look at him, or it’ll break their resolve. “Hey Joseph,” They greet, a little too friendly and nervous at the same time, “Love to stay and chat, but I have stuff to do.” Blue winces at their lame excuse, kicking themself for not coming up with anything better.

“Stuff?” Joseph asks, sounding vaguely amused. “And what would ‘stuff’ be?”

“Oh, ya know, stuff,” Blue awkwardly rubs the back of their neck with their left hand, “Anyway, I should head-.”

“Blue.” Joseph calls their name so softly, Blue melting a little at the sound. They really need to leave now before they do something they regret. His hand comes up to their face, calloused fingers softly tracing the edge of their jaw. Blue swallows nervously as Joseph gently takes their chin in their hand. He tilts their face upward as Blue offers no resistance, just going along with the ride. Eventually, their own eyes, behind dark grey aviators, meet his soft baby blues hidden behind yellow aviators. Unable to resist, Blue allows a goofy grin to slip onto their face, their cheeks heating up slightly. “I missed you; I hoped God would allow us to see each other again.”

“Missed you too.” Thoughtlessly, those words slip out of Blue’s mouth. Joseph smiles kindly, a shine of happiness in his eyes.

“It heartens me to know that you have thought of me just as much as I have thought of you.” He leans down towards Blue slowly, giving them one last out. Instead, Blue hooks their fingers into his belt loops, pulling Joseph closer. Despite the talk of responsibility, they’ve always been one to throw caution to the wind, to think with their heart rather than their head. Joseph presses his lips to theirs, the scruff of his beard slightly ticklish against Blue’s skin. His other hand finds their hip, gently holding onto them. In the kiss, Blue senses Joseph’s longing for them, a mutual feeling. When he pulls away, Joseph softly states, “I would like for you to stay. Please, even for a little while.”

Damnit, they really need to grow a stronger spine. “Why not,” Blue gives in with a casual shrug, “Can’t stay too long. I really do have stuff to do.”

“Oh?” He asks curiously, raising an eyebrow. “Does this involve Sharky and Hurk?”

Blue pauses, perhaps a little too long. “Nnnoooo…” Joseph shakes his head, always having been baffled by Blue’s friendship with Sharky and Hurk. What could Blue say? Sharky just got Blue; trouble and chaos seemed to find him just as it always found Blue. “Alright, I have plans with Sharky and Hurk later, but-,” They emphasize the Joseph releases them as Blue unhooks their fingers from his belt loops. “I did,” He says, taking their hand in his, “I missed you very much.”

#Far Cry 5 #Blue Murphy #Joseph Seed #OTP: I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you #kate writes #the blue fic tag #joseph seed x deputy #joseph seed x junior deputy #far cry 5 fanfic #fc5 fanfic #this turned out kinda fluffy #also sorry if Joseph is a little out of character #I'm a little rusty from my fc5 writing

20 notes · View notes

englass · 1 year

Text

Concept/Title: Viewfinder

Pairing(s): Joseph Seed x Reader? / Undecided

Word Count: 3,187

Warning(s): Supernatural elements, horror elements, mentioned gore, death/ghosts, bad language/swearing.

A/N(s): Labelling this a concept piece because it’s not that refined imo; I got violently struck by the need to write it after randomly thinking of the idea at work. Doubt I’ll expand on it, but still interesting to write. And yes, I’m fully aware I’ve missed Halloween but– shh, who am I to question when inspiration strikes?

-/-/-

“Holy shit…”

It wasn’t anything new. Really, you shouldn’t be surprised; not with all you’ve heard about them. Not with the things you’ve seen…

But it’s the volume that catches your breath, makes shaky words tumble loose in a wispy exhale despite your aim for covertness.

You shouldn’t be here. Perched precariously across a high branch, you never should have come here. You can’t even remember why you’d decided on such recklessness in the first place, far removed from your typical cautious nature.

It was likely curiosity, the damned thing. What with this local war, once a whispered rumour with the tension brewing in the county, now in full swing.

You were unaligned, vehemently against the needless bloodshed on both sides. Had seen too much death in the calm of a spring evening to ever want to see it in the wrath of an actual war.

Without your camera, an old heirloom passed down to those with your ‘talents’ in the family, you could only catch glimpses. The unnatural glint of luna’s light in the corner of your eye, reflecting off the impression of a form that isn’t there in your periphery.

With the camera however… Well, fact is oftentimes stranger than fiction and seeing the evidence of some of the ways people have died is…

It was terrifying as a child; it’s still terrifying as a young adult.

God, you’ve always wanted to throw this fucking camera away. Put your foot to it so you would never have to see the horrors that lurk behind its lens again. Save any future members of your bloodline from the trauma it will surely lash upon them.

But you can’t.

It’s like a compulsion; morbid curiosity in full unrelenting force. You can’t bring yourself to destroy it. The not knowing, the paranoia should you ever lose – even just misplace it keeps it close.

Hardly a comfort, but always better the devil you know.

And you would always rather know than not when they are looking at you.

But this… this is unprecedented.

They’re not looking at you – fuck, thank god – but they are looking at him; at them.

Fucking hell, there’s so many…

It’s sickening. Seeing one is bad enough, having one follow you is worse, but this… this man has a whole fucking army of ghosts around him. All surrounding him, all circled close along with the living but still maintaining a certain respectable distance from him.

Are they all his followers, devoted in death as they were in life? Or have some inadvertently latched on to him, tethered themselves to him from the fear or rage he caused them in their final moments? It’s hard to tell. The toils and muck of conflict stains them all, makes them indistinguishable from one another.

You suppose death never has been a biassed prick.

The sight is beyond unsettling all the same, though.

Can he feel them? You know you can, if they get close to you. Still not figured out if they can hurt you though; never given them the chance, never been brave enough to try. Only ever turned tail or shot them with your camera in a reactive bid to startle them away. Sometimes they come back, other times they don’t. Sometimes they appear to want to show you something, other times… other times you don’t know.

You don’t exactly care to look at them long enough to find out.

Thankfully, depending on who you were to ask, he doesn’t seem to notice them. None of them do. Not even the girl, their appointed sister, despite how much exposure to that fucked up Bliss stuff she’s apparently had.

You’ve heard it causes hallucinations, makes people see things; you sometimes wonder at how much of what they see is really there or not.

They all have ghosts, you notice though. More so the preacher, Joseph if you remember rightly. But the other two men – his brothers, have a few of their own too. Barely a handful each, but…

You shiver, breath a whispered gasp as you see the way they stare. There’s no emotion in a ghost's face, completely blank and expressionless save for whatever injuries or lacerations may scar them. Even their eyes are blank, void of any thought or feeling, never no different than the eyes of a dead fish; but the intensity… that is something else. That is something felt.

And if they could… well, you’re sure they’d be glaring something fierce.

Did they kill them? It’s an awful thought, but with what you’ve heard it wouldn’t be far beyond the realm of possibility. The Seeds have always had blood on their hands, as goes the local gossip. And with how fixated the two and one ghosts are on the other two brothers respectively…

There’s history there, at the least. Enough history that you don’t think they’d ever leave.

Grudge worthy history.

God, how do they sleep at night from such a look? From such a silent and inexpressible rage? It’s beyond you.

… You really should leave.

This is dangerous. The full weight of the situation you’ve found yourself in starting to drag you down. Chewing at your already fraying nerves. It’s not even like you could take a picture to hand over to the resistance as a peace offering of sorts, in exchange for your continued uninvolvement. The flash would go off; the outcome would be your worst case scenario.

Slowly, so slowly you start to move. The ramblings of the zealous preacher falling further into the background as you attempt to manoeuvre from your, admittedly awkward position across the branch.

You don’t think too much of the chill from the night air. A glance towards Joseph and his entourage is enough proof that the ghosts haven’t moved from their docile positions, dead eyes still fixed on the preacher. You breathe a sigh of relief and continue to carefully raise yourself into a sitting position, making sure to keep as much of yourself as close together and hidden as possible under the leaves and cover of night.

It wouldn’t do for anyone to see you swinging about like some damsel in distress because you lost your balance.

In a cruel moment of irony, you stretch your leg back to start shimmying to the trunk of the tree, fully intending to make your way down and skedaddle away, when your foot suddenly slips from its hook on the branch too quickly. Body tipping dangerously to one side, frantically wrapping your arms around it, camera scuffing against the sturdy wood as you pin it harshly between your chest and the branch.

Thankfully, the flash doesn’t go off.

Taking a gasping breath, your eyes skittishly dart from person to person, hoping beyond all else that no one heard your – almost – fall. When no one seems to bat an eye you sigh, slumping with the weight of it to further cage your camera against you; forehead colliding a little harsher than intended into the bark.

That was too close.

With another quieter sigh you start to rise again, adamant to get away as quickly and stealthily as possible; not wanting to test your luck any further tonight.

But then you see it.

A glimmer, an unnatural glint of silver in your periphery.

You freeze.

Breath catching in your chest, fear an icy tendril sliding down your back you stare wide eyed at nothing; eyes becoming unfocused in a vain attempt to better see what is typically hidden. To attempt to follow the things you normally can’t.

It’s a silly attempt. Worthless really, but still you make it. No different to chasing those squiggly things in your eyes.

Cautiously you slide your camera out from under you. Turning to look over the edge to the ground below, vision spinning at the sudden acknowledgment of just how high up you are. You close your eyes hard for a few seconds, take a deep breath, and raise your camera…

It’s there. Almost right underneath you.

Dead eyes staring up at you, empty and expressionless.

You don’t move. Snared in the trap that these weird moments of looking at something that shouldn’t be, that isn’t there for most people, lock you into. Almost like an invincible ledge that you don’t know the limits of, nor the depth of the fall that awaits you should you get too close.

They are a follower of Joseph’s, though. You can easily make out the mark of the cult on their shredded jumper. Can see the inked branding of a sin on the inside of their arm. You think there might be hints of another one on their face, but… if there was one it’s gone now. Missing with the entirety of their right cheek; muscle and tendon and teeth exposed, part of their tongue…

They don’t gurgle though. Or choke. Or do anything really to show off their grisly wound. Not like the way they do in the movies or on television shows. There’s no fanfare here. They’re already dead, they have no need to sputter and uselessly swallow. They’re just an apparition. A scary one, a harmless one, but an apparition all the same.

Or at least, you try to tell yourself that.

With the sting of salt in your eyes you watch in distress as the ghost raises its arm, loosely outstretched toward you. Burnt and blood coated fingers pried apart into a lethargic open grab, a claw ready to steal you from your haven.

Oh, you’re so fucked…

It’s blocking your only way down. The only good thing is that ghosts can’t climb, but one of many pieces of bad news is that it's standing guard, waiting for you to eventually leave the safety of the tree. Sadly you don’t have the luxury of staying in one place forever, unlike the dead do.

The only thing you can think to do is to jump, but that’d be stupid– even for you. If you fall wrong you're done for. Staying up here might not be ideal, but at least you're not down there with it; incapacitated to boot if you were to be foolish enough to take the risk and end up hurting yourself.

… But you need to leave.

You’re becoming too lost in your fear, can feel your finger hovering over the shutter button, the urge to press down and drive the thing away growing the higher your panic rises. The need to flee itches at you, makes you twitch the longer it stares blankly up at you through the camera. Arm raised and painfully still.

What the fuck does it want?!

Before you catch yourself your mouth is already opening, a hushed ‘go away’ on the tip of your tongue–

And then there’s a shout, a raucous rally and the sporadic spritz of gunfire.

You jump, muscles flinching violently as you move to look too quickly, arm slipping out from under you–

Hands reflectively grabbing your camera tightly to hold onto and protect–

The impression of a button under your finger–

The flash goes off.

“Ahh–!”

You’re blinded, vision seared white as you're shot near point blank, flail in your shock and feel yourself slip from the branch, scrambling too late to save yourself before the blurry world is tumbling by too quickly–

A crack of pain has you scream out.

The ground a harsh greeting as you warble a pained cry, breath a wheezing cough as you weakly roll from your back to your side.

Fuck, you think you caught your shoulder…

The world is still a blurry mess of afterimages and lights, tears threatening to fall at the pain ricocheting through you, but you don’t have a chance to try and work yourself through it all before you're being mercilessly yanked to your feet. Rough hands grabbing and clawing as you are thrown into the roaring crowd.

“G-get the fuck off me! Let me go!” Your demands are far weaker and shakier than you want them to be as you're dragged along, shoved into one person only to collide and be pulled by another, the jeering exclamations and threats of the cult loud and ringing in your ears before you’re aggressively tossed to the ground.

You barely stop your face from hitting the ground, knees and forearms taking the brunt of the assault as your head instead knocks into your shielding arms before resting there as you curl into yourself. Make yourself as small and un-intimidating as possible in the eyes of the dead and living both.

Although, you’re far more concerned about the latter…

Choking at the harsh dig of your hoodie into your jugular, you're yanked by your hood back and onto your knees. Fingers clawing at the pressure around your throat as you're made to look up into the piercing eyes of the cult’s leader: the elusive Joseph Seed.

Freezing, you barely pay any mind to how he lightly raises his hand, a hush falling over everyone at the placating gesture as the choking grip on your hood is slackened into a controlled grip; a warning hold.

… You’re so going to die here.

The realisation has you gasping on a shuddery breath, tears gathered from your painful fall now weeping down your cheeks at the physical and mental strain of it all. The emotional turmoil of being so viciously confronted with the sudden fragility of your existence.

There’s no mercy here, you realise. No conceivable way to weasel yourself out of this now that you’ve been captured. Any excuse you can think up, any plea your brain desperately provides turns to ash in your mouth. There’s no way out of this…

He’s going to kill you…

You’re going to become one of them…

Glimpsing the flickers of light snagging on their ethereal forms you try not to actively look and search them out. The cold is far more prevalent when surrounded by them all, all no doubt watching you now that Joseph’s ramblings have come to a close at your impromptu arrival.

You try not to shiver though, try not to draw attention to the fact that you’re trying to look for something that isn't there. You’re sure you fail though, if the way Joseph slowly tilts his head is any indication. Natural eye colour tinted differently with the defence of his sickly yellow glasses between you.

Effortlessly, the older man kneels in front of you. Keenly observing you as you sniffle and barely hold back a shiver, breathe a contained gasp at how close he suddenly is. You try to retreat, to back away from him but you can’t; his hands quickly yet gently take your face into his grasp, holding you steady in his subtle inspection of you.

He calls you a child, tone patronising yet insufferably endearing as if you know no better. Looming over you as he admonishes you with all the righteous authority of a concerned father. Falls into a terrifying inflection of faux-sympathy as his thumbs brush absent circles into your damp cheeks, passes too close to your vulnerable eyes to be anything less than an unspoken threat; an intimidating yet wordless demand for your compliance.

You merely stare wide eyed at him, listen halfheartedly to his fraudulent platitudes and serpentine reassurances. Addressing all present, not just yourself as the object of his unwavering stare. Manufacturing a humble spectacle as he makes voiced inquiries he has no intention of letting you answer, drawing assumptions that rile up the onlookers into a thunderous rapture as much as it eases them from the edge of action.

Completely controlled and controlling.

An arrogance thinly veiled, a power freely wielded and openly demonstrated.

He is dangerous, beyond reason and comprehension. The devil is a sweet talker, and Joseph’s tongue is an enticing silver snare for the unguarded; words an enchanting will-o-wisp preying on the gloom of a despondent soul.

It’s little wonder he has risen to such notoriety.

Then his eyes drop, his voice stills, and his smile fades.

A pause. Lengthy and considering; lined with a tenuous, yet undefinable tension.

Watched by all around with bated breath, your interaction a show upon this most undesired stage, the hum of your joint audience a silent wonder and murmured question.

… What is he–?

Before you can follow the thought, he reaches for you.

He takes your camera.

“No, wait– let go of me!”

In the midst of your renewed struggle, panicked and desperate as he frees you from the metaphorical shackle of your camera and its strap around your neck, you keep your wary sight trained on Joseph. Watch in morbid interest in case he sees something, that he’ll be scarred by whatever it is he finds on the other side, letting you go free from the fear that will no doubt begin to plague him at such a blasphemous view.

Though you also fearfully hope he doesn’t break it…

He carefully turns your camera to and fro, expression contemplative as his fingers brush over the vintage wood. Tracing the elegant silver vines and delicate spirals inlayed into its frame.

He looks to you, peers at you over the frame of his garish glasses in a manner too much like the ghosts that watch you both.

You can’t keep the contact, too quick to look away and stare wantonly at your camera instead. Casting nervous glances to the flickers of unnatural light in the corners of your vision; afterimages quick to dodge your direct line of sight.

Joseph raises the camera; looks it over one last time, before finally looking through the viewfinder.

You hold your breath, struggles ceasing a second after at the morbid wonder that has taken hold. He doesn’t jolt or flinch or give any indication that he sees anything, simply looks through it. Seamlessly turning to point the camera at the many people around him, to turn it on his own brothers and sister; to turn it on you.

You flinch violently at having the dark lens of your camera pointed at you; the abysmal eye of death’s observer trained intently on your trembling form. Your terrified and living visage reflected in the black pitch of its glass.

Click—

There’s a flash, blinding and sudden and you yelp at the revitalised burn of your eyes, held tightly closed as you attempt to blink away the afterimage seared into your poor eyes: the ominous face of your camera staring back at you, a mask upon the devil before you.

Hesitantly your eyes flutter open, ears picking up at the laborious whir of your old camera as it develops the film.

Joseph is disinterested in you, focused purely on the picture slowly drooling from the film ejector.

He takes it gently, briefly shaking it to help develop the picture quicker. Once he’s satisfied, he stares. Shaded eyes glossing over the captured details of your person.

Green tinted eyes slowly crawl from the picture to its living counterpart. Watching you from his towering advantage as you shrink further under his blank yet intense gaze. So much like them, so much like them…

And then he smiles.

“You can see them too.”

#i totally forgot how to write for joseph 😰#it’s a concept piece though so it’s fine #just ignore that #my writing #concept piece #fanfic idea #reader insert #joseph seed x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fc5 #far cry 5 #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #trust me to write a concept piece over 1k words

36 notes · View notes

kittiofdoom · 1 year

Text

Midnight Sins Chapter 1

Series Summary: In the aftermath of the Cleansing the Deputy has a surprise visit from Joseph Seed and it sends her spiralling down a path of which there is no return.

Parings: Joseph Seed/Female Deputy (More to be added later)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Drugs, Non-Consensual Drug Use (If you squint), Trauma, Joseph Seed is an entire trigger warning, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. (more to be added later)

Wordcount: 3695

AN: Far Cry 5 has a chokehold on me once more and the idea for this fic started as something else but evolved on its own. It was only supposed to be a one shot.. It’s.. not a oneshot anymore. This will be dark and messy and a hell of a ride. I hope you enjoy.

Read on A03

DROWNING.

“The way of the wicked is like darkness; They do not know over what they stumble.”

— Proverbs 4:19

Mary had offered a room in the Spread Eagle to Ava the first night the Deputy had rolled into Fall's End in a hail of gunfire and a few well aimed explosions. It was make shift room at best, a sofa pushed up against some crates to give the illusion of privacy while they cleared some more space and opened up a few more of the run down buildings in town. It was an ongoing project, that would likely see well into the next several weeks. Ava didn't want to be a bother—she didn't want to be around that many people all the time. The reality of it was if Joseph or John or another one of those bastard Seeds were going to pick somewhere to cause trouble looking for her it was likely to be in the middle of town.

No, it was better she was as far removed as she could be when she had a target the size of Hope County on her back. They couldn't force her out of hiding if she wasn't there in the first place.

Was it better for them, or better for her she didn't really know. All she did know was it was harder to get attached to people—to their cause—if she was like a ghost. Ava would roll into town, do what needed to be done and then vanish into the dark of the night with naught but a cougar and a dog for company.

It became routine and in routine bred complacency.

Her campsite was never supposed to be a campsite. It was supposed to be a tent, a dug in firepit and a string of bells around the perimeter to keep a wandering wolverine from sneaking up on her—the faded bite in the muscle of her calf the first night she spent under the stars saw to the latter addition. As days and nights went by and Ava went undiscovered by the Peggies she soon lost the energy to pack up and set camp every single night. It was too much, she was too tired, barely having the energy to do anything but collapse into her bedroll and tend to her wounds before succumbing to the darkness of exhaustion.

So Ava set down roots, out in the woods to the south-west of the Harris estate. There was plenty of game to hunt, shelter amongst the trees. Fresh skins hung on the drying rack she'd rigged and there was at least a weeks worth of meats salted and curing in a safe location to keep the predators from sniffing her out. The rest she sold to whomever would buy. There was even a chair—that was currently straining under the weight of Peaches as she lounged and cleaned her paws.

It was nice, homely even, until it wasn't.

Ava had just settled down into her bed roll when the crunch of leaves outside her tent made her skin break out in goosebumps. It was too light for Peaches, but too heavy for Boomer. One movement. One step away. Her heart was hammering against the curve of her ribcage. Had her time come—had John finally found her? Would she have to face her sins? She wasn't ready..she'd never be ready.. There was water on her face, in her lungs. John was holding her down and she was reaching frantically for the air-

She had enough time to close her fingers around her pistol.

It was not John that had come for her.

A shot rang out in the night—the din made Ava's ears ache.

There was a hole in her tent flap, a few centimetres away from Joseph fucking Seed's head.

“Th-that was a warning shot,” Ava spat, gesturing with the business end of her pistol towards the way Joseph had appeared. It had not been a warning shot but Ava didn't know if that was because her hands were shaking or for a reason that scratched at the back of her skull that she refused to give acknowledgement. “Get out.”

Joseph had not moved from where he stood—in fact he had not moved at all, one arm still up, holding the flap open for him. In the low light cast from the lamp it was hard to make out his expression but it didn't look like he was armed or brandishing a weapon.

“Even now, when I come to you in a moment where you could take it all from me...” Joseph began, disregarding Ava's warning. He stooped down into the tent, bringing himself eye level with the furious Deputy. He moved slowly, though with confidence, as rosary beads clinked together as he bore his palms upwards towards her. “You claim warning, I say it is otherwise. God is still watching even in these twilight hours.”

It was almost like a sick mockery of that night.

It felt like a lifetime ago now, standing in Joseph's church with him standing in front of her with his hands bared proclaiming that God would not let him be taken. He had been right, whether it had been at the hand of divine intervention or meddling Peggies they had failed and it was what had caused this entire mess.

Joseph had closed the distance, the muzzle nestled against his chest. Ava could end it all right now. Just one squeeze of the trigger and she'd blow through Joseph's ribcage and then it would all be over. Finger caressed the trigger and there was silence between them. Joseph was waiting, watching through those tinted fucking aviator sunglasses of his.

But it wouldn't be over though would it? There was still the rest of the Seed family, they'd strike back in revenge, more bodies built upon the pyre. The flames of war licked at her heels like one of Jacob's Judges and Ava was sprinting ahead in a desperate attempt to outrun the desolation.

Her hands were shaking again, visibly this time, and Joseph did nothing. He merely knelt there and waited... and waited.. like he already knew what the answer was going to be.

Ava lowered the gun with a disgusted sound and the corners of Joseph's lips upturned into the ghost of a smile. His hands dropped, clasping together in front of him like he was about to pray.

“I don't want to get blood in my tent,” Ava spat as she set the gun down after flicking the safety on with her thumb. “That's all.”

Joseph raised a brow, a hum rumbling deep within his chest. They both knew she was lying, and yet this time he seemed to let it go. Kneeling turned to sitting, the pair of them almost mirroring each other in movement.

Ava was the first to speak, her voice soft, hesitant almost like she was afraid of speaking too loudly and break this quiet peace.

“Did you hurt Boomer and Peaches?” She asked, leaning to the side to try and see around his body outside but the tent flap had fallen back into place, leaving them sealed off from the rest of the world.

“No,” Joseph's response came as a surprise to her and she watched as he turned at the waist to lift the obscuring flap to reveal them quite content in where Ava had left them by the remains of a smouldering firepit. “I did nothing to your companions. I have brought no war to your doorstep, no violence. I am not the man the resistance makes me out to be.”

He let the flap fall back down, returning his gaze to her face and Ava searched for answers in the lines of Joseph's face. He seemed different, the arrogance and charisma remained but there was something softer underneath the surface. Ava might have even called him handsome but the thought was immediacy discarded as it came to her mind. She was not even going to entertain that line of thinking.

“And you are not the woman the resistance makes you out to be, either, are you Avery?”

It was the first time he'd ever said her name and Ava felt her heart skip a beat and fall straight into her stomach all at once. Rookie... Rook... Deputy.. Dep. Not Avery, not Ava. Rook was all people ever called her and it had become a mask that she would wear over and over while she carried the burdens of the entire County upon her back. She never asked for this but there was so much that she needed to do. Even now the list grew ever longer because people couldn't sort out their own problems. She was never meant to be a hero. Rook was their hero, she didn't even know who Avery was any more.

The world became smaller under the weight of her own turbulent thoughts, the edges of her vision hazy as she almost forgot to breathe—there was water in her lungs again. Ava curled her fingers into her palm, digging small crescents into the scar tissue that already marred there. Pain would keep her grounded, try to breathe, ignore the screaming in her brain, fight the spinning-

-A hand against her own, gentle, easing red tipped fingers away from the damage it was causing. Joseph was there and Ava didn't know if he was making it better or making it worse but now all that emotion was focussed solely on him.

“D-Don't!” Ava hissed, trying to yank her hand away in a fury. “Don't touch me, I don't I-” She couldn't even get the words out any more. They stumbled over each other in a mess of sounds that died on her tongue. She raised her other hand to strike him but he met her half way with a firm grasp upon her wrist. Ava didn't know how he could be so gentle and hard at the same time. He was an oxymoron, opposites wrapped up together yet somehow worked. Ava hated it. She hated him and everything he stood for.

“You're tired, are you?” Joseph asked. As he was talking he raised her hand like she wasn't trying to fight him. Lips brushed bruised knuckles, aching fingers. He turned her hand over, kissing the markings her nails had cut into her palm uncaring as blood smeared across his face. Breath was warm against her skin, the scratch of beard stinging the wounds but Ava found she didn't mind the sensation. And that made her even more angry.

“How- How dare you! Let me go!” Ava strained against him, pulling her weight backwards in an attempt to free herself but Joseph was like stone, unyielding in his hold and surprisingly calm in the face of Ava's outburst. The rosary beads pressed firm into her skin, indenting into her wrist.

“It's okay to be tired, look how far you've run.” Joseph continued in that same gentle tone, even as her nails raked across his cheek. Three red lines were left in her wake though in her frenzy she didn't know if it was her blood or Joseph's own. She was like a wild animal backed into a corner, a dangerous look in her grey eyes.

“You don't know anything about me!” She spat the words like a weapon, trying to get underneath his skin in the same way that he'd been crawling under hers with every word.

Joseph's glasses had been knocked off in the motion and green eyes were peering back at her. He shifted, still keeping a firm grip on Ava's wrists, knees took the brunt of his weight and he used the small height leverage to lean her back with a push, bending her spine enough that it had to be uncomfortable.

Ava should be fighting harder right now, he was far too close and looming above her in a way that made her feel so small and weak. And yet here she was. Here he was. Joseph leaned forward, looking up at her through his lashes.

“I know you're begging to be whole again,” Joseph murmured. “I know you're drowning Avery. The water is up to your jaw and you're straining to stop yourself from going under.”

The fight left her all at once. Flailing hands falling slack in his grip. She frowned at him, brows knitting together in a pained expression at being read so plainly. No one knew these thoughts. How could he see her pain so easily when everyone else around her was blind?

“What do you want from me?” Her voice was as small as she felt and when Joseph released her wrist it merely fell limply at her side. Joseph reached forward, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb brush the arc of her cheekbone, tracing the small scar underneath her eye.

“I want to save you.”

His hand shifted, running his fingers through Ava's short brown hair to hold the back of her head and pull her into him.

She didn't fight him this time, allowing Joseph to pull her back upright and into his space. Eyes fell shut to try and quell the beginnings of tears as they stung. Lips pressed against her forehead in gentle affection before Joseph rested his own in the space where he had kissed.

“It's okay,” he said and Ava could feel his breath on her face now, hear his voice almost reverberating around her skull. “I'm here, give me your pain.”

The first tear fell and it was like the dam broke. An ungodly sound wailed out from Ava's mouth as she threw her arms around Joseph's torso and collapsed into him. Once she started she couldn't stop, crying for all the pressure put on her, crying for void she felt in the pit of her stomach that never felt filled. She'd been empty for so long even before the mess of Hope County and it was supposed to be a fresh start. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The feelings weren't supposed to haunt her when her old self died.

Joseph had made her feel something when he'd been standing in his church staring down at her, something she'd not felt in years.

He made her feel alive.

And it frightened her.

Joseph held her as she pressed her face against the curve of his neck, gently stroking up and down her spine with the tips of his fingers. He said nothing, only making the occasional soothing sound to let Ava get it all out of her system without disruption. He was soft where she was sharp and it brought a strange sense of peace to the pair.

Ava hiccupped, clinging to Joseph tighter as her tears stained his shirt. Her whole body shook with the sobs. She didn't remember the last time she had actually cried, it was safer to keep it all bottled up but now the bottle had smashed into tiny fragments and Ava didn't know how to put the pieces back together. She was sinking and the only thing keeping her from completely under was the warm steadfast presence of Joseph keeping her upright.

Eventually the downpour became a trickle and Ava became still, listening to the sound of Joseph's breathing.

“Will you stay with me? I.... I don't want to be alone. I... I can't..” Voice was hoarse against her throat, the words scraping and tasting metallic on her tongue. Joseph inclined his head downward, pressing another kiss to her head.

“Just for tonight.”

Reluctantly Ava pulled herself away, pausing when she saw the marks she'd left on Joseph's cheek. She reached up and he let her touch his face, leaning into the bloodstained digits. Guilt welled up like a lump in her throat and for a second she felt the urge to cry once more. No tears fell. She had no more tears to shed.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

Joseph reached up to take her hand once more and this time Ava didn't fight him as he kissed each finger and each mark she had inflicted upon her skin. His gaze was burning into her through the gaps of her fingers.

“You are forgiven,” He spoke into her palm again, causing a shudder to work it's way up Ava's spine. He released her hand, gesturing around the small tent and what few belongings Ava actually owned. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Ava nodded, turning to reach for her field backpack. Out came the yellow tin, passed to Joseph. She thought he was going to use it on himself, but before she'd even had a chance to put the backpack away Joseph reached for her hand again.

“This will sting, but though this pain you will find the path to salvation,” Joseph said as he opened the kit with his other hand. He was slow, methodical, as he worked brows knitting together in a thin line of concentration. He soaked cotton balls in antiseptic, dabbing at each crescent shape until it was clean.

Ava hissed air in through her teeth but fought her natural instinct to yank her hand back.

“I will heal my people and let them enjoy abundant peace and security,” He began to wrap her palm in a small bandage turning it over and over before securing it with a small piece of tape. “If you feel the need to mark your skin you should wear your sins correctly, only then will you truly begin to heal. John can help you.”

All at once the fragile peace shattered as Ava scrambled away with a shake of her head. Fear was writ all over her face. It was too much, the memories too raw. She felt like she was drowning. Joseph paused, studying her before offering an outstretched hand and a kind, patient expression.

“You're not ready,” he did not scold her as he spoke, he did not even judge her, and slowly slowly Ava edged her way back towards him like a frightened animal. He took her into his embrace, cradling her as he laid them both down on top of her bedroll.

Ava rested her head against Joseph's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he draped an arm over her side. She felt safe here, tucked in against him like the world and the troubles outside her tent just didn't exist.

“I'm afraid,” Ava said, fingers bunching the material of his shirt.

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.” Joseph said, stroking across Ava's ribs as he spoke. She could feel his voice rumbling against her, slow and steady and lulling her into a content sleepy warmth. “Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. I, too, have been afraid, filled with fear for my people and the reckoning to come. But I follow the Voice and now I walk the path with the knowledge I need to protect us all. You just need to believe.”

He pressed his lips to the hair and Ava shifted to look up at him. Noses brushed and Joseph kissed the corner of her mouth before turning his head away.

“Sleep now, your fears cannot find you while I'm here. I will protect you.”

Ava settled back against him and stopped fighting the urge to stay awake. The last thing she heard was the sound of Joseph's heartbeat with the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

---

He was gone in the morning when Ava awoke, but wrapped around her bandaged hand was Joseph's wooden rosary and a small white and gold bound book on her pillow. Ava scowled and reached for the book with the intention of.. well she didn't know any more. She should throw it in the fire, pack up her camp and be done with it.

She opened the book and written on the inside cover in a steady careful hand was a single phrase. She traced the handwriting with her finger and a strange sense of warmth overcame her body.

'When you're ready.'

----

Joseph returned to the compound early in the morning, even now his chosen flocked to greet him at the gates. A passing touch, a gentle wish. They reached for him and for a time he stopped to greet them, not singling one out but giving each and every one a single moment they could cherish.

He was only pulled away when John approached, a concerned look shadowing the smile that he so often wore.

“What did she do to you?” He asked, gesturing to Joseph's face—and the marks that he carried from the night. “I'll drag her out here kicking and screaming from that tent. How dare she lay a hand on you. She's an animal. I'll take the fingers that touched you one by one.” The more John spoke the more he worked himself up, his entire body going rigid with poorly contained wrath. Joseph exhaled heavily, closing the distance to place a hand on John's shoulder.

“You will do no such thing,” Joseph said sharply. He put the smallest amount of pressure with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing lightly. The fire in John died out, and a flicker of another emotion entirely haunted his expression. It pained Joseph to see it, but sometimes it was necessary to temper John's more sadistic tendencies.

“I have plans for our dear Deputy dear John,” Joseph changed his tone of voice, morphing it into something soft and sweet. “She is on the precipice of change and we need to give her a nudge in the right direction. You will leave her camp alone. Continue on your path and she will fall into your waiting arms. Patience. Do not let your sin prevent that. ”

John swallowed thickly, nodding and with that Joseph released him. He reached up to rub his shoulder and neck subconsciously.

“Yes Father.” John said.

“Good, now come along, we have much work to do.” Joseph beckoned for John to fall into step with him as the gates closed.

Joseph had plans for them all.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #joseph seed x female deputy #far cry 5 fanfic #joseph seed/female deputy #writing: midnight sins #My writing #it's been 10000 years since I wrote anything please be gentle

16 notes · View notes

john-anon-athon-seed · 2 years

Text

A Reward

John Seed x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Light Bondage, Oral Sex

Summary: John has you tied up and decides to give you a reward. 😉

A/N: My first fic for John Seed! It's been a hot minute since I’ve written anything so hopefully it's not complete trash lol.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

John shoves you back into the metal office chair, his hand pinning you in place as he leans down over your body. He hovers his lips just above your ear, his voice comes out as a salacious purr.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, his voice alone drives you wild.

“Do you think you’ve earned a reward?”

You bite down on your lip as you nod.

“Say it.” He demands, wrapping his hand across your jaw and making you look up at him.

“Yes, John.”

John lets out a satisfied groan, his eyes fluttering up in delight.

“That’s what I like to hear...”

He releases your face as his hand wanders down to his sinfully tight jeans.

You wanted to touch him so fucking bad, but he had your hands bound tight to the armrests. You let out a little whine as he palms himself through his jeans.

He looks down at you with dark, desire-stricken eyes.

“Do you see what you do to me? All of this lust bubbling up inside of me…it's all for you.”

His words halt as another groan escapes his lips, his head tilting back.

He was teasing you.

He knew how much you wanted him.

How much you wanted to run your hands across his skin.

“Please…” You whine, pulling at the ropes around your wrists.

He lets out a chuckle as he looks back down at you.

He stalks towards you and grabs onto your legs.

With one rough pull of his hands, John yanks your body to the edge of the chair causing a sharp gasp to escape your throat.

He drops to his knees in front of you, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. He shoves the skirt of the dress he had selected earlier up around your waist before raking his eyes over the newly exposed skin. He slowly drags his hands up and down your thighs, sending shivers up your body.

You wriggle around in the seat, desperate to get any amount of friction.

You let out another whimper.

“John.” You moan.

“Shh...darling. I’ll make you feel good.”

John pushes your legs apart, revealing to him your absolutely soaked panties.

“Mmm…so wet and ready for me.” John regards as he reaches his hand up to press against the thin fabric.

You let out a pant and pull at your restraints once more.

John grins wickedly as he hooks his fingers under the waistband, slowly dragging the garment down your legs. You eagerly lift your hips, letting him remove the piece completely.

He tosses them aside and pulls your legs apart even more.

John grips your thighs tightly, bringing his face between your legs. He bites and sucks at the inside of your thighs, pulling more moans and gasps from you. You throw your head back and shift your hips closer to him. You bite your lip and close your eyes tightly.

John lets out a groan as he glances up at you.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” John commands, giving an encouraging squeeze to your thigh.

Your face warms at his words and you open your eyes to look down at him.

He gives you a devilish smirk as he fixates his eyes on yours before bringing his mouth to your aching heat.

He licks a stripe up your slit and you let out a strained moan.

John presses his face deeper between your legs and dips his tongue into you. You suck in a sharp breath and squirm around in your chair.

“John!”

He lets out a hum as he reaches a free hand down to his own pants. He expertly undoes his jeans and slips his boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection. He lets out a deep groan against you as he wraps a hand around his length.

You buck your hips towards him.

“Fuck!” You moan.

“Mmm…filthy words, my dear.”

If your mind wasn’t so preoccupied, you would have scoffed at him, but instead you gasp as John pulls one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He sucks your clit into his mouth and massages the little bundle of nerves, pulling more moans from your lips.

John continues to move his other hand up and down his cock as he eats you out. He hums and huffs against you as if he can’t get enough.

He presses his tongue against you harder, circling your clit in all the right ways. Your legs twitch and tighten as he increases the movements. Your eyes threaten to close as pleasure starts to shake your body, the edge teetering right there.

John grins against you, pulling away just a bit to tease you.

“Are you going to come already?”

You pull at your restraints wildly.

“Yes! Oh God, please don’t stop John!”

He lets out a pleased laugh before doing as you say.

He fucks you with his tongue deeper and harder.

He sucks and pulls at your sensitive flesh.

John’s own hips thrusts forward through his hand as he feels his body starting to tense up as well. He grips your thigh tightly as you shake and thrash under his ministrations. He closes his eyes and moans as your orgasm takes hold.

You let out a loud scream of pleasure.

“Oh fuck! John!”

John hums in delight and continues to work you through your peak as he drags his hand up and down his shaft faster and faster, greedily working towards his own end.

As you writhe around in his grasp, his hips stutter and he cums across the floor with a guttural groan.

His head collapses down against your thigh as the post-climax euphoria washes over the two of you. John gently nuzzles his face into your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your leg.

“Perfect.”

#john seed x reader #john seed #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 #fc5 #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #john seed fanfic #my writing #smut #nsft

94 notes · View notes

red-riding-wood · 1 year

Text

Brother (Far Cry 5)

Pairing: John Seed x Faith Seed

Fandoms: Far Cry 5

Summary: John finally decides to give in to his sin when tempted by thoughts of his step-sister during a sermon.

WARNINGS: explicit sex, light knife-play, dubious consent, step-sibling incest, implied step-father/daughter incest

Word Count: 3678

Notes: Old fic of mine, made on request of a friend, different universe to the FC5 novel that I will be posting and finishing at some point.

Normally, John would have listened with rapt attention to his older brother’s sermons. But his sin was clouding his mind, stifling his ears to his brother’s teachings, and causing his eyes to wander from a pair of yellow aviators to the milky flesh of his step-sister’s thigh. The lace of her dress was hiking up to the line of her underwear, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was aware of how much she had on display. He couldn’t help but wonder if she wanted him to see it – if she wanted him to re-enact what he thought about doing to her every night when he tried to fall asleep.

No; he was letting sin guide him, letting it plant these false hopes inside his mind in order to sway him from his course. He wished so greatly that he didn’t still want, that he didn’t still fall so helpless a victim to lust. It only gnawed at the emptiness inside of him that he wished to fill with all these desires of his – some of which were twisted and taboo, and would no doubt earn Joseph’s scorn if found out.

And he knew that Joseph would chastise him for his sinful thoughts in this moment, not only for his lust but for whom it was for. Faith was Joseph’s treasured daughter, his innocence and his purity – his bliss. And John was her brother, her protector and her family. He had the suspicion that if he were to act on these thoughts, he would be cast out, that in Joseph’s words, “the gates of Eden would be shut to him”. He’d read every testament in his brother’s book, and he remembered clearly the statement that forbade incestuous relations.

But even when he tore his gaze from the lace hem of Faith’s dress, his mind could not be cleansed. He was imagining what she might look like without a dress at all, perhaps with her legs spread apart, perhaps with her hands bound behind her and her lips parted in ecstasy or sweet, delicious pain…

“Brother? Is everything okay?” her whisper yanked him from this fantasy, and reality hit him hard, unlike how soft the hand was that now rested on his thigh. He hadn’t realized that his leg had been bouncing in anxiety and he’d been leaning forward to try and hide the arousal that was making an appearance in his jeans.

John took Faith’s hand, and guided it from his leg – not that he would have minded if it had travelled further, but that was beside the point. He didn’t want to make the situation awkward by her noticing something she shouldn’t.

He offered her a smile, and uttered back, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you, sister.”

Faith was concerned; something was eating at her brother, and more so than usual. He usually seemed at least mildly on edge, at least when he wasn’t acting all calm and suave for a camera. She knew what he did to the sinners in Holland Valley, and she had to admit that sometimes, when she wasn’t under the influence of the Bliss, he scared her.

Joseph had taught her to not be afraid, to embrace those whose sins plagued them, to cleanse them and ultimately free them. And John, of course, enforced this as well; Joseph trusted him enough to keep him in this family, and so she had nothing to be afraid of. But there was something so unhinged about him that couldn’t help but make even her a bit uneasy.

Still, she was naturally inclined to feel empathetic towards others, and so in this moment of trouble she attempted to comfort him. It was unusual how he pushed her away – was he angry with her? Her brow furrowed in confusion, and although she returned her focus to the Father, it was this enigma that caused her to linger inside the tent once the sermon was over, giving her blessing to each member of P.E.G. as they departed from its entrance.

Seeing Joseph’s forehead tip to Faith’s, if only for a moment, caused John’s blood to boil with an unexplainable envy. This settled, rocked from its venomous growth only when he felt her hand on him once again, this time lightly settling over his wrist. He cocked a brow, searching the emeralds of her eyes for an answer. But her expression was difficult to read, and all she spoke was a request for him to stay.

As the last devotee disappeared from the ingress of the tent, he turned to her questioningly, and Faith realized in this moment that she needed to choose her words carefully; her brother was volatile, and she didn’t want to set him off by prying too much. But she reminded herself that she needed to trust, in Joseph and his family, and so she dared to ask,

“You seem so nervous today – is something on your mind? Was it the sermon? Is it me – did I do something that bothered you?”

Bothered was certainly a word for it; Faith was driving him insane, and she likely had no idea. He wanted to tell her this, to voice his sin like he wore it on his flesh, but his better judgment hadn’t completely fallen victim to lust, and so he kept his answer vague,

“Bothered, yes, something is on my mind.” John plucked his trench coat from the rack beside the entrance and busied his hands with fitting it over his body. He needed a distraction from his sin. It was all he could do not to feed it, to grab her wrists and take what he wanted from her.

“Do you think you could talk about it?” Faith pressed him boldly, her curiosity piqued by his confirmation of her concerns. “I’ve been told that I’m a very good listener,” she added and peered up at him from long lashes with an innocent yet playful smile tugging at her lips.

“You wouldn’t want to hear what’s on my mind,” John assured her. Though he wasn’t worried about what she thought, he was worried about what Joseph would think when she went crying to him about John’s secret.

“You’re my brother. There’s nothing you could tell me that would scare me,” she persisted, voice now pleading. This poutiness was what she used to get what she wanted, and to her unawareness, it only made it all the more difficult for John to forget his sin.

A strenuous breath was released from John’s lips, and he went to run a hand through meticulously-combed hair, but his fingers caught on the metal of his sunglasses, and in that moment he felt like taking them in his fist and shattering them, not only to ease his frustration but to indulge in the pain that would split his palm, the consequence of his wrath.

Instead, he tucked them carefully away in the deep pocket of his coat, and decided to indulge himself by taking a step further into her space. He wanted to test the waters, to gauge her reaction to this primal desire that rooted itself inside of him.

“Would it not scare you if I told you that you were distracting me from the entirety of that sermon?” he asked her, his heart-rate quickening in his chest.

A warmth flushed Faith’s cheeks, and she took a moment to try and process his words. Did he mean… in the sinful way? Or did he mean it in the threatening way? His words carried a hint of suggestion, yet his stature was imposing. His eyes were alight with an emotion she hadn’t seen in him before – at least not up-close – and they reflected her own curiosity. She decided that he likely meant both.

“No…” she replied softly, awaiting his next move. She found that it would be smartest not to provoke him in this moment, that she should allow him to commandeer hold of this bizarre and uncomfortable conversation that they had wound up in.

“Would it scare you if I told you that when I think of you, I think of sinning?”

Faith’s stomach fluttered, but not in the unpleasant way. The feeling was, in fact, oddly thrilling. It wasn’t often that she felt something when she was sober, and she welcomed it, even if this feeling was created by sin.

“Of course not,” she spoke, trying to sound sure of herself. She could feel her voice faltering in apprehension. “Sin is natural – we’ve all fallen prey to it at some point. Do you need help ridding yourself of your sin, brother?”

Not even Faith was certain what she meant by that last sentence, if it was asked out of that innocent, genuine desire to help, or out of a different sort of desire, the kind that she shouldn’t feel for anyone let alone the man who was supposed to be her brother.

Faith didn’t appear as repulsed as John anticipated she would, and he took this as his cue to continue with an unimpeded force; her willingness to listen this far and her receptiveness to this taboo idea he introduced shed the lock he had on his self-control.

“Sister…” His reached for her, his fingers clasping the hipbone that was still so defined beneath the thick lace of her dress. “I need you to help me get rid of it.”

His touch felt rough and greedy to her; nothing about it was gentle, but she wasn’t sure that she minded. Something about the neediness of it, the power that it seemed to emanate in a spiraling lack of control drew her interest even more.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked him, voice still maintaining that gentle innocence of hers.

Her brother’s mouth curved sharply into a wicked smirk that would put the Devil’s to shame, and the undertones of his voice carried a sinister yet hungry growl as he spoke, “You don’t need to do anything.”

Faith didn’t have the time to react before his hands slid to her wrists, and they were yanked behind her. She released a startled noise akin to a squeak, but bit her lip and made no complaint as he forcefully guided her to the lectern that Joseph had been giving his speech behind mere minutes prior. The edge of it dug sharply into her spine as she was shoved against it.

“Are you sure this doesn’t scare you, sister?” John asked her as he rifled through one of his pockets.

Faith watched as he withdrew zip-ties from his coat, and a shiver of unease ran down her spine as she felt them tighten around her wrists, the plastic biting harshly at her tender flesh. But this discomfort was the least of her worries, and she took it that he wouldn’t care much for these worries. Although his words seemed to indicate caring, the way he handled her spoke otherwise, like that brotherly kindness had switched off and been replaced by a feral brutality.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Maybe. I think it’s starting to.”

She needed her Bliss, something to smooth her mind’s edges and let all of her unease melt away so that she could be a good sister for him, a cure for his sin.

“Good,” he cooed, and procured his treasured knife from his pocket next. Her fear excited him, spurred him onward. It was a feeling he’d often get when his latest recruit found their way into his chair, only this time it was the sister he’d lusted over for months on end. When John had led her confession, Joseph had been there as an overseer, but he finally had her away from the eyes of his brother. He wanted her to confess so much more than that drug addiction of hers.

John’s only hesitation came from when he held the blade of his knife to her dress, for he knew that if Joseph caught her with the garment sliced apart that he would surely have questions. But then he remembered how Joseph had prevented him from drowning the deputy at the river, how he’d had to suppress his sin because of how his brother had favored such a sinner. How he’d criticized his methods of forcing those like them to atone. Every move he made was followed closely by the eyes of Joseph, and he was sick of it. A streak of defiance shot through him, and before his rationale could intervene, his blade pinched the seam of her dress and he brought it all the way down to where the fabric tightly hugged her upper thigh.

The temperature seemed to drop as the cool air pooled across Faith’s skin, now exposed to her brother as he peeled aside the white lace. Her breath hitched in her chest, and she bit her lip to keep from whimpering. But past the peril and the wrongness of the situation, she couldn’t help but think, I liked that dress. It had been a gift from Joseph, after all.

John had waited so long to see beneath that pretty dress of hers, and he cast it almost angrily to the side to reveal what he had only been able to imagine before. His hands couldn’t help but immediately seek out the perky yet soft breasts that rested on either side of her sternum, and his eyes drank in the rest of her like an expensive whiskey, tracing the line of her hips and panning across such undisturbed, such sinless flesh.

Like an artist with his paintbrush, the Seed brother began to trace the letters of “Lust” across her lower stomach with the tip of his blade. He was delicate only in this movement, for he didn’t want to spill her guts across his nice shoes; he only wished to create an outline in his mind, and for her to squirm under his touch.

Faith really couldn’t help but whimper now; the cold steel of the blade was enough to set her nerves on end, but before it left her flesh, the tip dug into her – perhaps by accident or his wicked design, she wasn’t quite sure – and a droplet of hot blood welled from her abdomen, pain biting into her. As he drew the knife away, she caught sight of her own blood on its blade, and panic started to seep in past her curiosity.

“I don’t understand, brother. I’ve already atoned. What is it that you want from me?”

“Oops,” John muttered almost sarcastically as the knife drew blood, and he wiped it unapologetically against the blue silk of his shirt before hiding it back in his pocket. He took his time in answering her, and shrugged the coat from his shoulders, folding it smoothly and placing it over the back of one of the seats.

When his gaze met hers again, he smiled wickedly and brushed her cheek with the back of his inked fingers. “I want you, sister. I want my sin inside of you. I want to hear you scream yours.”

His words were uttered dangerously in her ear, and hearing them made that curiosity return stronger than her fear. A heat roared to life in her stomach, and her lust took hold. Her hips squirmed as a wetness formed between her thighs, and she began to rub them together to try and satiate the itch that she felt for her own brother.

“Please do,” she begged. “Oh, John, please.” Faith’s mind sought out a phrase that might make him lose his control as wildly as she had, and she recalled a word that Joseph had once urged her to call him.

“Please, Daddy,” she breathed.

John’s fingers had sidled down to her throat, where they rested eagerly against her jugular. Her new nickname for him was enticing, but it didn’t quite hit the same viscous pocket of sin that had stiffened his jeans.

“No, I am your brother,” he growled, his fingers tightening against her throat. “Call me brother.”

Faith always knew that a screw or two was loose in John’s head, but never in a million years had she anticipated that he’d get off to hearing her refer to him as her family. That being said, the two didn’t technically share blood ties, and even if it was still incredibly wrong, she was too wrapped up in her own desires that she didn’t want to stop now.

“Yes, brother.” She obeyed. His fingers felt rough against her throat, and his cologne was drowning her senses. She wasn’t just compelled by sin; she was enthralled, and her hips nearly bucked with how much she wanted to feel him inside her.

He almost thought it would have been more entertaining had she refused, had he needed to pry the word from her like he pried “yes” from the rest of his sinners. But it still caused his breathing to labour in his chest, and his pants to twitch in anticipation. He undid his buckle and slid his belt out from the loops of his jeans, casting it aside with less collected calm than he had his jacket.

The rest of his clothing was shed rapidly, his movements fueled by his mad craving for her. Once there wasn’t a single layer of fabric that stood between him and his prize, he gripped her by the hips, nails digging into her smooth flesh, and buried himself inside of her.

The young woman gasped. Although she hadn’t expected him to be gentle – as he hadn’t been with anything else – she also could not help but feel a shock travel throughout her body as a jolt of pain shot through her core. It reverberated through her muscles, sending every one of her nerves into a frenzy of sensation.

John’s hands found their way back to his sister’s throat, and this time his grip was like a vice; her moans soon devolved into sputtering cries, and in anyone else it may have invoked terror or guilt, but in him it awakened a twisted joy that fueled his lust and helped fill that chasm his own pain had split within him.

And she felt like bliss around him. He’d never fallen victim to drugs like Faith, but sex had always felt incredible, and the way she clung so perfectly to every crevice of him was already challenging his stamina.

He paused to listen to her breathe as his grip loosened around her throat, and his own breath came in short, strained huffs as he asked, “Tell me, sister, you wouldn’t let Joseph do something like this to you, would you?” As he gazed at the lust-fueled junkie he had reduced her to, he couldn’t help but recall the intimacy the two had shared earlier, and he felt envy surge in his chest again.

It seemed that her brother was never finished with his surprises, because she was still trying to recover from this partial high he’d granted her when he asked such an out-of-nowhere question. Her airways burned, and she choked out a much-needed breath. Her body was quivering so much that, had he not been holding her, her legs may have collapsed beneath her.

Lying was a sin, but then again, so was what they were currently doing. And in this moment, she feared nothing more than what he might do to her if she spoke the truth. She attempted to mask this uncertainty by sputtering out her breaths longer than she needed to.

Just lie, a voice told her. Just tell him what he wants to hear.

But the Father had taught her not to lie, and unlike his preaching of sexual purity, he never went against what he said about lies.

“He doesn’t do it nearly as good as you do,” she finally decided on, her voice nothing but an estranged moan. She tensed, her body preparing itself for him to inflict his wrath upon her.

John growled not out of desire this time but out of an emotion far more dangerous, one that tightened his chest and caused his blood to boil with hellfire. He twisted Faith around and slammed her against the lectern. This time his fingers entwined themselves into her dirty-blonde hair, and he pulled at a fistful of the strands as he began to thrust into her again, channeling the rest of his energy into a carnal aggression.

Faith’s skull was rocked against the wooden finish of the lectern, her head beginning to spin. Pain had exploded all across her body with the way he was handling her, but it was nothing compared to the ecstasy that began to envelope her as he brought her crashing over her peak, and she wasn’t sure which was causing this dizzying wave. But even as her muscles relaxed and she came undone around him, he didn’t quit his relentless pursuit to make her his.

John had been fighting the inevitable end of their amorous adventure for some time now, but at last he finally let himself go, only when he’d felt as if he’d taken out his frustration appropriately. He spun her back to face him, all dopey-eyed as if she’d been snorting some of her Bliss, and made her watch as he came across her stomach, the action sending involuntary shudders throughout his own body.

Warmth speckled her abdomen, flooding her belly button and slicking her bruised flesh with her brother’s seed. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes, the darkness of his tattoos swimming in and out of her vision before she could come to. For God’s sake, he had nearly knocked her out.

“Joseph isn’t allowed to do this to you,” John hissed. “If you ever need to submit to your sins, sister, you come and see me.”

She nodded numbly as he finally released his hold on her, and her back slumped across the lectern as her legs buckled beneath her. Before all could be said and done and she’d have to clean all of this up, she managed to form the words on her lips,

“I promise... brother.”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #smut #john seed #faith seed #my writing #john seed x faith seed #mdni #fanfic #far cry #far cry 5 fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #writing

12 notes · View notes

skoll-sun-eater · 2 months

Text

Dessert; FC5 oneshot fic

Here's a snippet of something I just finished.

Just experimenting with how to write different 'situations' ;)

Warnings: Slight BDSM descriptions. Nothing too graphic, but there is the air of Sub/Dom language and interactions going on.

Pairings: Deputy OC Phedra/Jacob Seed. Deputy OC Phedra/John Seed. Deputy OC Phedra/Joseph Seed.

Just the brothers tonight, with the exception of the deputy as the main guest of honor. The deputy has become a permanent part of the scenery among the Seed family.

Jacob captured her and put her through the ringer in the first couple of trials. But she has- other purposes far more beneficial than the brothers could have imagined.

They all gather around in John’s dining room and they enjoy small portions of food, quite small. The arrangement and vittles are carefully laid on John’s cedar wood table. He set out crystal glass plates with crisp beige, cloth napkins folded in triangular puffs.

“Hmm, you brought out your finest crap huh Johnny?” Jacob says, teasing his indulgent baby brother.

The look of annoyance is visible on the Baptist’s countenance. “Of course, I want to show Miss Dawson that we’re not the uncivilized animals that the resistance likes to paint us out to be.” John scoffs.

The three pull out their chairs and take their seats. But the deputy is left in idle, waiting to be told what to do next. Though she’s a guest, she acts much like a servant.

“C’mere Phedra, you have permission to sit at the table.” Jacob finally beckons to the woman. She’s being tested for her obedience.

Phedra takes a seat in between Jacob at his side and John who sits at the head of the table. Joseph sits across from Phedra facing her. She’s in his direct line of sight, it’s unnerving, how he looks at her through his yellow aviators, watching. She knows why, this dinner isn’t so much about the actual food.

But…

“Really? Sunglasses at night?”

“Excuse me my child,” Joseph’s voice cuts through Phedra’s thoughts of belittling of his choice of attire. “Would you please pour myself and my brothers some wine?”

Phedra looks to Jacob for instruction. “Go on, if they ask ya to do something, you do it.”

Phedra rises from her seat, and reaches across for a bottle Merlot John had set on the dining table. She sidesteps her way and pours the wine into the sparkling crystal glasses.

“You look lovely this evening, my dear Miss Dawson. Quite…” John looks her up and down, like he’s surveying a tall tree from his chair. “…provocative.” He simpers at her as she retreats back to her chair.

Perhaps he isn’t wrong about how she is presented, Jacob specifically chose this dress for her tonight. A deep ultramarine blue dress, backless halter with the neck plunging down to her navel. It was quite short and fit all the contours of her athletic but full curvy figure.

Read the rest here in the link below, if interested.

Thank you for stopping by.

#far cry 5 fanfic #deputy oc Phedra Dawson #jacob seed x female deputy #john seed x female deputy #joseph seed x female deputy #jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed

2 notes · View notes

thedumbdeputy · 2 years

Text

Small drabble I wanted to do, I got inspiration from Mary on a Cross by Ghost to do an art piece but then was inspired to write this from that sketch so here's this

Unimaginable

Word Count: 659 Words

Warnings: Suggestive themes

“I don’t think this is a great idea, not here, not now…not yet.”

“Alex, I would never do anything to put you in harm's way, I wouldn’t offer this if I thought it was going to hurt you.”

“I know, I know that but..what if your brothers find out? What if MY sister finds out? John and Joseph hate my guts no matter how much Joseph makes it seem like it is for my own good.” My mind was racing, this whole thing had been killing me since it started, “And if my sister does find out don’t you think she’ll go running to John? Don’t you think Joseph would kill you or me? What Joseph uses you to get to me? Have you thought any of this through??”

I could see his slight frustration, but he isn’t the only one upset in this situation.

“First off, they’re not going to find out, you can trust me on that. I can’t stop your fight with this, and I don’t plan on it. You know how I view my soldiers and you know me. And on top of that, what makes you think I’d let Joseph do anything to you?” Grabbing my face I couldn’t dare to bring myself to look into his eyes, I can already barely think straight but if I saw his eyes, full of hope..confusion..lust love everything we have shared this far?

I love him, but the backlash of this could be fatal to us both, damage not only my reputation but his as well.

“Please, Alex, I love you, let me at least do right by you and prove it. Your power, your strength, I want you to be my one, my only.” I could feel my body tensing up, as much as I love Jacob, I still fear his bothers. John and Joseph have power in their own right and even Faith as well. How can I know? Do I even want to? I would die for him..

“You understand I have to keep fighting right? Your brothers won’t leave me alone, and until they’re convinced otherwise to stop what they’re doing or at least do it more ethically. I can’t stop fighting for the others of hope county.”

“I understand that, and I’ll give you this. You can keep fighting my men, but no more kidnappings on my end. I also can’t fully give up this fight if we want to keep this a secret.” Could this really work? Could I be, although not officially, married to Jacob? A cult herald? My head tells me anything could go wrong but my heart says otherwise.

“This can work, we can make this work.” There was a shine in his icy blue eyes, something he almost never had in the first place, and considering his own trauma, I can’t blame him for his constant brooding nature.

“Y’know, honey, it’s not official till I get a yes…” Typical, always traditional in all of his ways, but I do love it.

“Then yes, I will marry you, Jacob.”

“I knew you would.” He smirks at me and slowly gets down on his knees so that his head rests on my legs. He looks up at me as I’m sitting on the end of our bed. I reach my hand out to him and I hold his face in one of them. I then move my other hand to rest on his jaw, gently rubbing it. I begin to pull him towards me and he crawls up to me, almost like something was pulling him away from him.

“All I want is to worship you.” I stare at the burns on his face as he hovers over me, I slowly rub them feeling admiration and empathy for him. He lowers his face to mine giving a rough kiss before moving to my ear and biting it.

“I have ways for you to do that..pup.”

#I was gonna go farther but i really wasn't feeling the smut right now #if this gets enough love I might make a part 2 just for that cause it does have a lot of those worship themes I love so much with these two #fc5 #far cry 5 #thedumbdeputy #jacob seed #fc5 fandom #alex reads #otp: only ever you #jacob seed x deputy #far cry oc #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #the deputy #far cry 5 jacob seed #fc5 deputy #fc5 oc #fc5 jacob seed #fc5 fanfic

17 notes · View notes

deputyash · 2 years

Text

All Tied Up

Pairing: Dove Ash x Grace Seed

Word Count: 2,396

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Interrogation? (not really haha)

Summary: Grace Seed, spymaster for Eden’s Gate, catches Deputy Dove in one of her traps and they have an unusual interrogation.

Tag List: @harmonyowl

A/N: First fic in a long time! :3 Based on two prompts sent by @harmonyowl. #17 - “holding the other’s chin up” & #17 - “kisses as a promise” Grace belongs to her as well! Go check out her work too! :D

Hope y'all Enjoy! :)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dove should’ve seen it coming. She should’ve found the radio call to be a little too good to be true, but damn if it hadn’t been convincing. She had been in Holland Valley, finishing up a few tasks given to her by Pastor Jerome, when she had received a call from another Resistance member.

He had claimed that the ever sly Grace Seed had been captured on the borderlands of the Valley and the Whitetails. He had said there was a struggle and many of them were injured but by “some miracle” they still had managed to subdue Grace. The word choice alone should’ve set off alarm bells, but the news of severe injuries had her traveling halfway across the region without a second thought.

It wasn’t until she was there standing alone in the middle of the forest did she realize she had made a grave mistake. She barely had time to turn around before the sting of a bliss bullet hit her in the shoulder and she was collapsing to the ground.

- - - - -

When Dove rouses from the bliss-induced sleep, she finds herself in a room that was far too hot and stuffy to be friendly territory. Her head slumps downward as her eyes flutter open. Her vision is still swirling from the bliss, but she can tell she’s bound to a chair with her arms secured behind her back. She shifts around, subtly testing the bindings. They were woven far better than something John could do, which meant she wasn’t at his bunker…

Fuck.

She was in Grace’s possession.

Dove swallows down the parched sensation gathering in her throat. She closes her eyes as she tries to will away the fog from her mind. She needed to escape now before Grace came in. She reopens her eyes and blinks. Once. Twice. Three times before it finally starts to clear up.

There has to be something she can find in this room to help her escape. She finally lifts up her head, eager to scour the room, only to let out a surprised gasp as she comes to yet another realization.

Grace was already here.

Despite the room being fairly dark, Dove could still make out her slender form reclined back in a metal chair with one leg casually tossed over the other. For several moments, Grace doesn’t say a word and Dove stays stock-still, as if she could somehow just disappear into the air.

“I’m so glad you could stop by for a little chat, Deputy.” Grace finally says with a grin.

Dove remains silent for only a second longer before she lets out a dismissive scoff. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.” She retorts.

Grace lets out a chuckle that sounds far too warm to be coming from someone who’s intending on interrogating her. Dove watches as she sits up in her chair, shifting around until she’s right at the edge of the seat. Her lips purse before her voice comes out smooth and even.

“Twenty four.” Grace says, leaning forward in the chair, her hands interlocking together as she looks across at her. “Does that number mean anything to you?”

Dove stays quiet. She didn’t know what that number meant. It probably meant nothing. She blinks her eyes again, feeling tendrils of bliss still trying to cling to her vision. She drags her gaze across Grace, waiting for any changes in her behavior. Even with her mind still swirling with bliss, she wouldn’t give her anything. She wouldn’t be tricked for a second time today.

“That, Deputy, is the total number of vehicles and properties that you’ve destroyed in the last five days alone.” She shakes her head. “And who knows how many lives you’ve taken.”

Grace stands and makes her way across the room until she’s a few feet in front of Dove. She places her hands on her hips as she looks down at her. Dove continues her streak of silence. She only tilts her head back to look up at Grace. She wouldn’t be intimidated by this woman.

“Would you like to explain yourself?”

Dove shrugs nonchalantly. “Not particularly.”

Grace stares down at her, her eyes shifting around, trying their best to collect any bit of information they can gather in every fleeting moment. She turns and paces back out into the room. Dove follows her as she returns to her chair. Grace stands behind it, her hands coming up to lightly grip at the backrest. She idly taps her nails against the metal before speaking again.

“You’ve been a busy girl, haven’t you?”

Dove shakes her head in denial, but the movement only ends with her feeling dizzy. She closes her eyes as her head lolls to one side against her will. She lets out a distressed groan as pressure pounds against her forehead.

“Deputy.”

She wishes she could just ignore her and keep her eyes closed, but it wouldn’t make a difference either way. She reopens her eyes and picks her head back up to see Grace sitting in the chair once more. When they make eye contact, Grace points towards a table in the far edge of the room. Dove follows her gesture and she sees a small, yellow tin sitting there.

“If you answer my questions, we can get you patched up. Sound like a deal?”

Dove lets out a pained sigh but musters up the strength to reply, “Fuck you…”

She only laughs in response. “In due time, sweetheart.”

Dove is about to retort once more, but Grace is quick to cut her off.

“I heard you were destroying my brother’s silos in the Valley. Would you like to tell me why?”

Even through the sedative effects of the bliss, a spark of pride hums through Dove’s chest. She distinctly remembers destroying the silos and John’s furious radio calls afterwards. It was quite an amusing day. It was always so easy to rile up the youngest Seed brother. She lets out a short laugh that bubbles up from her chest.

“Have you seen those things? They’re an eyesore. Not to mention they’re a danger to the people. I mean— they’re so explosive. One little grenade and they go up in flames.”

“Oh, do they now?” Grace asks, her arms coming to cross against her chest.

“It’s my duty to keep the people safe and unfortunately they had to go.” Dove says with an impish smile playing on her lips.

Dove was hoping her response would be distracting enough to keep the real, much more pressing questions out of the picture. If she could dance around this interrogation then perhaps she could win more time for creating an escape plan. Unfortunately, her goading doesn’t have the effect she had hoped for.

Grace lets out a low chuckle as she sits up from her chair. She stands and saunters her way back over, the low clicking of her high heels matching each step she took. She comes to stand right in front of Dove before placing her long, slender fingers under her chin and lifting her face up. She leans down ever so slightly, bringing their faces much closer than Dove would’ve liked. She swallows nervously as her eyes are forced to meet Grace’s vibrant blue ones.

“Deputy,” she says, drawing out each syllable of the title. “What is it you and Jess Black hope to accomplish by breaking into the Gardenview Packing Facility and stealing the Project’s shipment documents? You know John is not as nice as I am when provoked.”

Dove freezes as her words wash over her. How did she know that? She and Jess had snuck into the packing facility at night. No one had been around besides the two guards they had taken out. She was so sure they wouldn’t be found out. That’s why she had even brought Jess along in the first place. She was quiet and stealthy unlike most of her other allies.

She opens her mouth to respond, to deny that they had been there, but she quickly shuts her mouth again. Her eyes flicker up to Grace’s, her momentary shock quickly turning into a hardened gaze. She wouldn’t give her anything more to go off of. Maybe she didn’t really know she had been there…right?

Grace smiles down at her as the fingers under her chin brush upwards to cup her cheek before moving to tuck a strand of unruly hair away from her face. Dove unwillingly shivers at the touch, her eyes closing momentarily before Grace’s voice pulls her attention back.

“What’s wrong? Why so shy all of a sudden, dear?”

“I…I’m not.”

Grace brings her lips down right next to her ear, her voice coming out soft and breathy.

“You’ve been such a bad girl, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

Dove’s eyes widen. The words were surely meant to be condescending, but her tone had her breath catching in her throat. She was suddenly very awake, not a single trace of bliss affecting her senses in that moment. She swallows deeply as her face heats up and she lets out a shaky exhale.

“You know what we do with bad girls, don’t you?”

“I-I…” Dove stammers.

Her eyes quickly drop away towards the ground to escape the interaction, but she’s blocked by Grace's body taking up every crevice of space in front of her. Dove’s gaze is abruptly met with her form-fitting blouse.

It surely had to be the bliss still muddling her mind, but she struggled to look away from the low cut neckline of the top. Dove bites down on her bottom lip at the sight of Grace’s fair skin peeking out from the neckline.

“My eyes are up here, Dove.”

Dove’s eyes instantly snap upwards at the call of her name, her actual name. Grace clicks her tongue, her arms coming up to fold across her chest. She gives her a devilish grin and shakes her head.

“A little distracted are we?”

Dove quickly clears her throat in an effort to wipe the interaction from her memory, but the heat in her cheeks still remains. She blinks and does her best to give an impassive look. She half-heartedly shrugs, trying to ignore everything that’s just happened. Her eyes travel out into the room and eventually catch onto a clock.

She watches as the second hand ticks by. It was still late afternoon. If she was lucky, Grace would grow bored by her lack of answers and leave her to stew in solitude, and then she could escape before nightfall. Surely she could play this game for a while longer…Right?

Grace’s hand comes back up and wraps around her chin, her nails digging just slightly into her flesh as she pulls her gaze back to hers. Grace smiles down at her, her head tilting in a way that catches the dim light and making her eyes practically glow a silvery blue.

“Dove—”

The door to the room opens with a harsh screeching sound, causing Grace to straighten up and look back at the door with a mildly annoyed expression. Dove tries to glance over, but the grip Grace still had on her jaw doesn’t let her move much. She can only hear a voice as it speaks out into the room in a hushed, nearly fearful tone.

“Sister Grace, may I speak with you?”

A deep sigh comes from Grace but she nods. “Yes, I’ll be there momentarily. Now leave us.”

The person leaves without another word and Grace turns back to Dove. She releases her jawline as she turns to face her. She gives her a mockingly sympathetic look.

“I’m afraid our little chat is being cut short.”

Dove can only look up at her. Her mind has long since drifted from Grace’s original questioning. Grace leans down towards her once more. She brings her hands back up until her fingers tangle into Dove’s locks. She pushes the hair back away from her face with a soft, reverent motion. Her palms brush against her cheeks causing another shiver to rush down her body.

“Don’t look so distraught, dear.”

Grace’s hands slide down until they rest where her neck meets her shoulders. Dove lets out a sharp breath as her fingertips softly caress the bare skin peeking out from her shirt collar.

“You’ll see me again.”

Grace dips down lower until she’s mere inches away from her face. Dove’s mouth parts as her breath quickens. She swallows sharply as Grace’s crystalline eyes stare back at her. She wants to look away but she can’t— won’t.

“I promise.” Grace breathes as she leans forward.

She presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of her lips. Dove breathes in a soft, surprised gasp as the intimate gesture sends waves of heat racing across her face. Her eyes close shut as her heart pounds away in her chest. The kiss courses through her veins, rendering her useless.

She should’ve yanked her head away in disgust but she quickly found that she didn’t want to move. Instead she can only sigh as Grace lets out a gentle hum that vibrates against her skin.

Dove holds her eyes closed for only a moment more before she finally tries to blink away her flustered inaction. She tilts her head to the side in a poor attempt at moving away. The slight movement only brings a soft laugh from Grace. Dove watches as she takes a step back from her, that charming smile still resting on her lips. She keeps her eyes on her as she moves backwards until she’s returned to the side of the chair she had long since abandoned.

“Don’t go anywhere now, alright?”

Dove doesn’t reply, she doesn’t even really register what Grace had even said as she watches her turn around and move towards the door. Her eyes are shamelessly glued to her hips as they sway—not so subtly—as she walks.

She watches Grace’s form retreat from the room until she stops and turns on her heel, hand coming to rest on the door. Dove looks up at her face, eyes absorbing every little movement and detail. Grace only gives her one last smirk before turning and leaving the room, the door shutting loudly behind her.

For a moment Dove just sits there in the deafening silence before she lets out a breath.

“What the fuck…”

She needed to get out of this place.

#fc5 #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfic #my ocs #dove ash #friend’s ocs #grace seed #dove ash x grace seed #deputyash's writing #my writing

14 notes · View notes