#f!dep/joseph seed
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general-kalani · 11 months ago
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"Per my last statement of cops..."
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"Fuck you in particular, Deputy Hadassah."
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outranks · 6 years ago
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a good distraction
a short fic commission for the lovely and wonderful @bintangy who wanted some soft Joseph (also based on a picture of fluffy hair Joseph ;aslj;lkas)
pairing: female deputy/Joseph Seed
vaguely non-cult au
There’s music playing outside the house. It’s carried by the wind through the open window, filling the bedroom, and it’s as warm as the sunlight on Rook’s skin and as pleasant as Joseph’s heartbeat in her ear as she rests her head on his chest. If she had her way, they’d stay like this forever. Just the two of them in a bed, surrounded by light and warmth, and someone’s vaguely religious, but no less cheerful, music echoing around them.
“What if we just stayed here all day?” Rook asks, hooking one leg over Joseph’s in case he doesn’t agree with her idea.
Joseph hums softly and gently runs his fingers down the side of her face. “I’m supposed to be at the church soon,” he says, “and you—”
“Have the day off.”
“Do you?” Joseph asks, only the mildest hint of disbelief in his voice. “You can’t continue to use the excuse that the church needs protection from sinister locals to spend all of your time with me. I can imagine that Whitehorse even believed you the first time.”
He absolutely hadn’t, but Rook is good at her job and not a lot goes on in the county anyway. Especially not now when the church that probably isn’t a front for a cult has taken up residence in the county. With all of their charity projects and community service everyone wants to stay on their good side in case the Seeds decide Hope County isn’t worth their time anymore. Which really makes Rook’s job somewhat boring since no one is committing any crimes lately.
“I only used that excuse once—” technically twice, but Joseph doesn’t need to know that— “and this time I really do have the day off.”
“But I’m afraid that I don’t have the day off, however,” Joseph says, lightly scratching his nails up and down her spine, causing Rook to shiver.
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“You will be a distraction.”
“Yeah, but a good distraction.”
He huffs a quiet laugh a begins to get up like the conversation is over and Rook has just given up, but she’s faster than he is and she’s able to swing a leg over his and sit firmly on his thighs to prevent him from going any farther. “Rook,” he says, not putting in any effort to sound serious, and making no move to dislodge her.
Rook leans in for a quick kiss and tangles her fingers in his hair that's all soft and fluffy now that he’s started wearing it down lately. It’s a good look on him and she can’t help but to touch. “You have two brothers; make one of them lead the service.”
“That’s not either of their jobs.”
Which is honestly news to Rook because while she does understand that John is technically a lawyer, she’s not positive that he’s currently practicing. And she’s never really known what Jacob does all day, besides hang out with dogs that look entirely too similar to wolves. “Isn’t it?” she asks finally, taking Joseph’s hair in both hands and making pigtails out of it for a second before letting it all fall free.
Joseph sighs. “I cannot ask them to do my work for me.”
“Sure,” Rook says as she twirls some of his hair around her finger, “but if you did ask them, then we could stay in bed all day.” All she wants is to have him to herself for a little while, and she knows she should have mentioned her day off sooner, but it was a sudden schedule change. Mostly sudden. “We could have breakfast in bed, maybe I could braid your hair, and the bathtub is huge so we could probably share that.”
It sounds a little awkward coming out of her mouth like that, but she's never wanted to just be with someone like this before. Just to spend time with them, like they’re the only two people in the world.
“Did you say braid my hair?” Joseph gives her a look that’s half perplexed and half amused. “Is that all you have in mind, if we stayed here?”
“Well, I really like the breakfast in bed idea,” Rook says. Especially if he’s the one to cook for them. It’s not that she can’t, but that she doesn’t have the patience for it and her pancakes often burn, and they will be having pancakes. “And then I’ll braid your hair after.”
“Your obsession with my hair—”
“It’s so fluffy.” She ducks in again for another kiss, feeling all warm inside at the sight of Joseph Seed trying to figure her out. As if she’s somehow more complex than just the new deputy in town who fell for the guy running the local church-that-isn’t-a-cult. “But if you would rather stay right here, in bed, then I’m open to comments.”
“You act like I’ve agreed not to go to work,” he says with a soft smile. The sunlight has begun to inch closer to the two of them, hitting Joseph’s arm and illuminating the wall behind the bed, making everything glow.
It steals Rook’s breath away as happiness fills her chest. “Yes,” she whispers, “and I think that’s what you want, too.”
“You—” Joseph starts and stops, leaning his head against her shoulder— “do you know what you do to me?”
Rook squirms on his lap, fully aware of exactly how he reacts to her. And more importantly, how she reacts to him. “I have some idea.”
That earns a half groan, half laugh from Joseph. “I’ll… make some calls,” he says after a moment. “There are a few members of our church who have been eager for more responsibility— I’m sure they can handle running things for a single afternoon.”
“It really takes a few people to do your job?”
Joseph pulls back to look at her. “Do you know what my job is?”
“Yes,” Rook says. “Maybe.” There is definitely a church involved.
“That’s right,” Joseph says with a slow nod and a sigh. “Perhaps you could join me there sometime?”
“Not today, right?” Because even if she suggested it earlier, she is really looking forward to having the day all to themselves, without anyone else around. It’s not that she doesn’t want a better understanding of what Joseph does all the time, or why so many people in their community seem so devoted to him and his family, she just wants to figure all of that out later. Maybe on her next day off.
Joseph shifts, moving Rook off his lap so he can climb out of bed. “Of course not,” he says with a quiet laugh, grabbing for his jeans that were thrown off to the corner the night before. “You’ve convinced me that there are other things we could be doing.”
“Then why are you getting dressed?”
“To go downstairs and make breakfast for us,” he says as he reaches toward the bed and scoops Rook up into his arms, like it’s just that easy.
“Then— hey—” she throws an arm around his neck for support. “At least let me put something on, too.”
Joseph simply hums, continuing toward the bedroom door. “I think I prefer you like this,” he says, and gives her a quick kiss to her forehead.
Rook laughs, content with letting herself be carried, naked, through the house, and points in the direction of the kitchen. “Onward!” If this is how her life is going to be with Joseph in it, then there’s nothing that could make her happier. “But I’m still going to braid your hair later.”
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wrathfl · 3 years ago
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 MEET THE MUSE !
LEGAL NAME:  Mercy Graham
DATE OF BIRTH:  15/9 ( canon depends )
NICKNAME[S]:  Rookie, Dep, Mer, Gray, Gram
GENDER:  cis female
AGE:  26
SPECIES:  human
PLACE OF BIRTH:  Miles City, Montana
CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS:  Hope County Montana ( verse depends )
SPOKEN LANGUAGES:  English/German/Polish
OCCUPATION: Formerly a City Cop from Miles City MT./Currently Deputy of Hope County, Montana.
CRIMINAL RECORD:  clean
DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS
LIKE[S]: Reading ( Mostly Crime books / Herbal Medicine Books) / Going on hikes  / The smell of Herbs and Whisky  / Taking care of the garden behind her cabin / Joking around with friends / . Listening to Joseph Seed's sermons,
DISLIKE[S]: Needles / John Seed / Bliss bullets, bliss arrows / Having her trust broken / Guilt from eating junk food / Being disrespected,
{ P H Y S I C A L   I N F O R M A T I O N }
FEAR[S]:  Seeds / Losing her loved ones / being abandoned / Tokophobia 
PERSONALITY TRAITS: Gentle / Honest / Loyal / Funny / Cheerful / Polite / Wrathful / Stubborn / Sarcastic / Rebellious / Compulsive / Manipulative
HAIR COLOUR:  dark brown, medium curly hair
EYE COLOUR:  grey
{ F A M I L Y   I N F O R M A T I O N }
HEIGHT:  164cm || 5'4"
WEIGHT: 65 kg || 145.00 lb
TATTOOS:  word WRATH tattooed across her chest/word LUST above her hip/word SINNER on her back,
SIBLING[S]:  none
PARENT[S]:  Arthur Graham ( biological father, deceased), Unknown Mother ’ Kate ’ ( left Arthur 2 years after Mercy was born )
{ R E L A T I O N S H I P   I N F O R M A T I O N }
CHILDREN:  none
PET[S]: none (she feeds a racoon from time to time that lives behind her house )
SEXUAL PREFERENCE:  bisexual
ROMANTIC PREFERENCE: -
RELATIONSHIP STATUS:  verse dependent, usually single
tagged by: @kenneld
tagging: anyone!
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chazz-anova · 4 years ago
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Fic Back... Saturday!
tagged by the wonderful @hunnybadgerv​ thank you! 💛💛🌻
tagging @consumedkings @faithchel @shallow-gravy @fadedjacket @smithandrogers @scungilliwoman @strafethesesinners and anyone else who’d like to do it!
Rules: Take an older fic (or art for my artist friends) from about a year ago or older even and talk about it, show it off and hype it up!
Here’s something I wrote about a year ago- I forget who exactly I wrote this for but it’s a John/F!Dep fic that’s just pure porn without plot lol. Smut used to be the only thing I would write so it was fun to write this one, and it definitely got REALLY raunchy! 
Atonement
Pairing: John Seed/F!Deputy Word Count: 2k Summary: The deputy atones, but not for her wrath. AO3 Link
The moment the deputy stepped across the border that marked the end of the Whitetail Mountains and the beginning of Holland Valley her radio crackled to life, and John Seed’s voice resounded through the speaker, “Deputy… you’ve been playing in Jacob’s region too long. I’m afraid I won’t go so easy on you.”
The woman scoffed, hardly thinking of Judges, kill rooms, and mind control as ‘easy’. Though, she couldn’t help but shiver from hearing the youngest Seed’s voice. She had struggled with an attraction to him the moment she saw him when she came to arrest his older brother, Joseph Seed.
Shortly after John’s voice faded, another replaced it. A man with a rough, gravelly voice said, “It’s deputy hunting season!” and she knew a capture party was coming.
“Are you fucking serious, already? I haven’t even gotten to have any fun yet!’ She muttered, brushing auburn hair out of her face with an exasperated sigh, and then she was off. Tearing through the woods at a breakneck pace, leaves and branches whipping her cheeks, leaving red and angry scratches.
Rook had been running a couple minutes before she heard the roar of an engine bursting through the underbrush, narrowly avoiding her. She was caught like a deer in the headlights and the peggies yelled in triumph, shouting, “There she is; get her!”
She hopped up and slid over the hood of the car, speeding through the trees once more. Suddenly, she cried out as something embedded in her leg, sharp pain shooting up through the nerves. Then she felt numb, her whole body ignoring the commands from her brain as she toppled over, collapsing in a heap. Her head swam in green smoke and there was nothing but Bliss.
When Rook woke up the first thing she felt were scratchy ropes securing her to a wooden chair. She grunted through a cloth gag, and rocked back and forth testing the strength of her bonds. From a door on the other side of the room, John emerged. He regarded her with a heated look, sauntering over while neatly rolling up his sleeves.
“Well now… it’s been a moment since we’ve been here together. Do you remember last time, my deputy? Our first official meeting…” He accounted, circling the chair, “You ran away from me that night… ran away to Jacob. Why would you do that to me?” He was suddenly in front of Rook, his hands on either side of her face as he gazed softly into her eyes. Her skin was warm where he touched her, she flinched away at first at the intimacy of it, but was soon compelled to return the look. “You are my deputy, you are mine to bring to atonement. Not Jacob’s.” He whispered harshly, bringing his forehead to hers.
She tried to speak but was inhibited by the gag. John stepped back while removing the white cloth from her mouth. Coughing, Rook licked her lips as moisture returned to her mouth. “I’m not yours,” she finally said, defiance shining in her eyes despite the growing warmth between her legs at his possessiveness.
The baptist chuckled, shaking his head at her, “Silly girl,” he gripped her chin tightly, forcing her to pay complete attention as he uttered the next sentence, “You’re mine because I want you, and I get what I want.” He released her and paced the room as Rook sat there speechless and concerned as to why her body was screaming that she wanted him too.
When she had nothing to say at his remark, John approached her again, “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen how you look at me- the way your eyes follow my every move. I’m no fool. I bet you’re wet right now, as we speak.”
Rook’s mouth dropped open and she stuttered out a reply, “Wh- How dare you assume that… besides.. I-I am not!” Her face flushed and she averted her gaze, embarrassed and too proud to admit he was right and that she had wanted him since they met.
John grinned at her, clasping his hands together, “Well! Then, I’ll make you a deal I think you’ll quite enjoy deputy... I’ll check if you’re telling the truth or not, and if I’m wrong, you're free to go! But…” He leaned in, murmuring in her ear, “If I’m right, then you will stay and atone for your lust.”
Rook’s face was completely red at this point as she considered her options. ‘Maybe this can be a win-win situation… I get what I’ve been wanting and maybe I can find a way to escape if he undoes these ropes.’ She decided, swallowing as she replied, “Do what you’re going to do then.” She watched his features darken, his expression drowning in lust as he knelt in front of her, undoing the button on her jeans deviously slow as she watched him, her heart racing.
Soon, John had discarded her jeans and smirked as he pulled her plain black panties to the side, caressing her wet slit. She shivered at his touch, her back bowing just the slightest amount. He toyed with her clit, moving his finger in lazy circles over that oh so sensitive bundle of nerves before lifting the glistening digit to his lips and tracing his tongue over it. He took in a slow breath and sighed it out, his eyes fluttering open to take in the scene of his deputy bound at his mercy and clearly loving every moment.
Rook bit her lip, saying quietly, “I guess I won’t be leaving tonight, will I?”
Her question was answered by John pulling her panties off swiftly and standing once more, “No, dear, you won’t be.”
He gently tilted up her chin and she felt any inhibitions she had sliding away as he leaned down, capturing her lips in an almost chaste kiss before saying, “Stick your tongue out.” Rook obeyed, and he dragged her panties across her tongue so she could sample her own wetness, “Can you taste how badly you want me?” He asked, grinning as she nodded up at him, “Good girl… let’s get started.” A devilish look filled his cold blue eyes.
“To be sure you can atone, you must show me you can worship properly,” he explained, attending to her ropes with skilled fingers. At this point, Rook felt so eager; his attention was something she had desired since that first night in the church. It was almost as if he knew from that moment the thoughts that had tortured her. Finally, he freed her and pointed down saying, “Get on your knees.”
She did as he grabbed something off a workbench sitting in the shadows of the dimly lit room. When he moved to stand in front of her once more she saw it was a cream colored collar with the cross of the Project printed on it. John smiled sweetly as he clasped it around her neck, “I had this specifically made for you, for this moment.” He took a silver chain and connected it to the collar before hurriedly undoing the belt and button on the front of his jeans. Once he had, Rook reached up and pulled them down along with the black and grey briefs he was wearing. John’s breath caught in his throat as she revealed him in his full glory, already stiff for her. The deputy was stunned briefly, seeing his size and comparing it to her various daydreams. He looked down, tugging her forward by the leash, “Worship,” he commanded her, voice hoarse with need.
Rook took him between her lips, sucking gently before taking his shaft down her throat, lips almost meeting the end of him. John was definitely sizable - not too big nor too small, but thicker than average. The deputy was determined to make him feel good and soon enough fell into a rhythm - bobbing her head up and down over the length of him all while sucking. Above her John quivered and kept a hand on the back of her head, pushing her back down every time her head came up. Her tongue danced along the sensitive skin, making him gasp more and more until he bundled up the chain in his hand and yanked it back, catching her off guard. His eyes looked wild as he looked her up and down and thought of everything he wanted to do to her in that moment.
After a few seconds he spoke and led her back to the chair, “So you’re skilled in the art of worship, but to atone you must also have exquisite self control. Take a seat.”
Rook gazed at him, lids heavy with lust as she sat down wondering what was to come. John gently caressed her legs, spreading them to line up with the legs of the chair and grabbing the rope he had discarded earlier, wrapping it around her ankles.
The deputy stiffened, murmuring “John-” before he cut her off, staring intently into her eyes.
“Do you trust me?” Obviously the answer should be an immediate ‘no’, but as she looked into his eyes full of need, she found herself nodding and back to work he went.
A few minutes later she was bound to the chair again, this time by her ankles.
“As I was saying… control is of the utmost importance.” John smiled and trailed a finger down her jawline before walking to the workbench again. He returned with an expensive looking wand style vibrator and a blush crept up Rook’s face again. He approached and used the last bit of rope to secure the device to her thigh, positioning it directly on her clit and leaning back to admire his work. “Beautiful…” He murmured, standing up, “Now, my dear, I’m going to switch this on and you must obey my every order.”
Rook nodded nervously and he flicked the switch. Warmth spread from between her legs as the quiet rumble from the vibrator filled the room, eliciting a few quiet moans from her, ”For this test, you are not allowed to cum. No matter how badly you may want to.”
The deputy smiled, speaking breathlessly, “No... problem!”
Nodding, John replied, “That’s what I hoped you might say,” and he reached down to the switch and turned it up a few notches. When he did, the vibration intensified and Rook gasped, moaning lewdly as her clit vibrated with pleasure. After a few slow minutes, her forehead was beaded with sweat and her back arched, the vibrator doing its dirty work. She started panting as pleasure built in her body, the steady vibration threatening to push her over the edge.
“Remember, you must have control.” John chided her and moved behind the chair, leaning down to gently kiss her neck, sucking lightly in all the right places. He licked a line up to her earlobe, biting it gently and whispering in her ear, “You only cum when I tell you you’re allowed.”
She made a desperate noise, fighting the growing need as she started to grind against the vibrator. John kept teasing her with kisses and bites on either side of her neck, moving her head with the leash.
This went for another quarter of an hour- John slowly turning the setting on the vibrator up each time she was about to orgasm, then he told her 'not yet'. At this point, the deputy was drenched in sweat and soaked between the legs. She bucked against the slick head of the vibe, crying out over and over, “P-Please, John… I’ll confess any sin you want, please just let me cum! I can’t take it any longer!” She pleaded with him, a slight whine in her voice.
A throaty chuckle came from the baptist and he stroked her thigh, which only made matters worse. After an unbearable few seconds, he finally nodded, saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely… I suppose, cum for me deputy!” After he said this, Rook began to quake; she almost couldn’t catch her breath as he turned the device to its highest setting and watched her turn into a mess of moans. After waiting so long, she was pushed over the brink and came screaming. When she was done, she slumped in her seat, panting while John removed the vibrator and kissed her softly, “You did so well, I’m pleased! There’s only one more step before atonement, my dear”.
"And what would that be?"
"Testing your endurance!" He replied with a wicked grin, undoing her ropes.
"I think I can take anything you want to throw at me!" She said breathlessly, standing up on shaking legs as he moved over to steady her before stealing a deep, unexpected kiss. The pair made their way to the floor and Rook straddled him quickly, lining up his length with her entrance.
"I'm assuming I know what this endurance test will be…" She whispered, tossing her hair back and teasing him by sliding just the tip in, relishing in his quiet moan. He nodded wordlessly in reply, grabbing her hips and lowering her down all the way until he was sheathed completely. John threw his head back as he was enveloped by the warmth and wetness of her, something he had fantasized about for a long time.
Soon, they were moving in tandem - the deputy grinding her hips in small circles over him as he kept his hands on her hips and thrust in and out at varying speeds. Her hands raked down his chest as another long moan of pleasure escaped her, leaving scratches down to his stomach while she bounced in his lap.
John felt himself coming closer and closer to his breaking point watching his deputy languish in the pleasure he was giving her. He moved a hand from her hip and gripped her ass, pulling her hips forward and thrusting into her forcefully, causing her to lean over on top of him and kiss him, barely stifling her gasps. He opened his mouth slightly and her tongue slid against his, circling it before she moved away a fraction to bite his lower lip, drawing a few drops of blood.
When Rook sat back up and kept bouncing, John sat up with her and wrapped his arms around her torso. Rook was gasping, unable to even form a coherent thought at this point as she stuttered out, "I-I'm so… close!" And nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder and he nearly lifted them off the ground with the force of his thrusts. A moment later, white fire consumed the deputy's vision and she threw her head back, screaming as she came for the second time. She tightened around the length of him and felt him release as well, both of them a puddle of moans and pleasure.
Once she rolled off him, they both collapsed on the floor gasping for breath, "Fuck." She shook her head and struggled to regain her composure.
"My sentiments exactly…" John sat up, finding his own clothes before tossing hers over and saying triumphantly, "I'm sure Joseph will be pleased to learn you've completed your atonement… you can rest here until I return." He kneeled next to her and they shared another passionate kiss before he gave her a wink and left the room.
Only then did she remember she was being held captive and that escaping had been the main point of all this, "Oh, shit! Well.. Time to get a move on!" She pulled on her clothes and fixed her hair, looking around at the sparse room and concocting her escape.
'What an eventful day!' She thought to herself as she slipped through the hallway of John's bunker, excited to see what challenges would face her now.
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satanwritesfanfiction · 4 years ago
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Jacob seed x f!deputy | Ukiyo || smut
Title: Ukiyo
Ship: Jacob Seed x F!deputy
Pronouns: Female for dep
Triggers: Smut, some references to choking if you squint. Like literally, your eyes are basically closed by how hard you squint. Some violence but not worse than canon, literally the least amount of violence. A fleeting reference to his scars, One-second screen time only. I think that's it fam.
Characters: f!deputy , Jacob Seed
Wordcount: 3200
a/n: This is the first one I'm doing for FC5 and getting back into writing, not very happy with it but thought I'd post it anyway.
***
The air was getting cold as night was approaching, it hadn't been as warm as of late,  as winter was crawling ever closer.
Jacob watched as his soldiers' pressure washed the cages, most with the hostages still in them. It was another tactic to break them. No food would take their muscle, they would be barely able to resist as the water hit them and when it was done, the cold would settle, and at that stage, they would either beg to be his or beg for death.
Jacob had watched, arms crossed over his chest like always. He liked seeing the transformation by his hands but Rook, she was different. He knew from the way she still defiantly glared at anyone who had come to her cage, sometimes he swore she physically growled. She was a wild animal waiting to sink her teeth into anyone she could get to.
He also noticed that she had been less aggressive with him, listening when he spoke and immediately taking the food he offered but perhaps that was because he had last spoken to her when she still had hope in her eyes and not rage. Those were early days, he wondered if she'd still be the same.
Most of the batch that had arrived with her had already died. She was shivering and she knew she would be next if things didn't change. The end was growing closer for her but she'd die before she'd submit.
Jacob had watched her through the CCTV footage that night, watching her shake almost in time with the trees around the compound. She had been in that cage the longest. She was strong, she had such potential but she was so defiant and didn't want to see the truth even if it was plainly laid out before her. He was going to have to change tactics. She didn't scare as easily and most likely wasn't going to survive the night which was unfortunate, Joseph wasn't going to be happy about it.
Jacob sighed as he walked down to the cages. Only a few men were patrolling since the next batch was only coming in tomorrow, the deputy was in no shape to take on an army as she was shaking in the cold. She was no threat.
She looked almost vulnerable in this state. Arms clutched around her arms, turning white from the intensity. Perhaps she had gone numb at this point and the pain didn't matter or she used to pain to be able to feel something other than the cold she must be feeling. Her eyes were shut tightly and she was sitting on her knees, her breath making grey puffs of clouds in the night air. He could see her clothing had not yet been dried completely by nightfall and her skin was turning an odd grey color.
Jacob opened the cage and entered, the deputy hyper-alert from shutting down her other senses, turned quickly,  fear covered her body. What more could he do with her, she wasn't even sure she could survive another trial, especially in this state, he surely had to know that or perhaps that was the endgame.
He towered over her with an intensity she had only ever experienced with him. She knew what he was capable of and wasn't the type of person who needed to prove his strength to know he possessed it.
He had grabbed her arm harshly and dragged her to her feet. "Come on." Was the only words he spoke as he started dragging her out of the cage.
She naturally protested as he dragged her along. She didn't want to wake up next to a trail of dead bodies again and then suddenly he was holding her by the nape of her neck, a knife pressed threateningly against her skin as his eyes bore into her own.
"Joseph may want you alive but I won't hesitate."
An odd sensation ran up her spine, so close to danger and she knew it would come to drag her away depending on her action. The fight left her body as she looking into those piercing blue eyes, even under the veil of the night they shone down at her. She could hear her heartbeat. One. Two. Three. Before he removed the knife from her skin, leaving a small indentation behind.
"Good girl." He spoke as he took hold of her arm again and led her inside the building.
Once in his office, he had pushed her into a chair unceremoniously and she stayed, rubbing at her arms as the feeling returned. She looked around in curiosity as well as an escape route but she'd have to bide her time it seems as nothing of value had been near her not that she'd expect anything less from Jacob.
"You have potential, deputy." He stated as he sat on the edge of the desk. "Why do you waste it on those people. They don't deserve it and neither can they appreciate it."
Rook stayed quiet as she looked at him. That's one thing he always had an ability to do, make her feel like he's the only one that really appreciates her talents. The way he'd say she was weak but compliment her so effortlessly when she showed promise, she craved those words and she hated herself for it.
Jacob sighed as he placed his knife on the table beside him. What would it take to get a rise out of her, some sort of reaction. He could only reason with her if he knew what she was thinking.
"What is it you think you'll accomplish by standing in our way. The collapse is coming whether you stop us or not. You stand for the weak which in turn makes you weak. They never make good pillars."
"You think them weak because they never learned that the world is a harsh, cruel place. That's not how it works, Jacob." She spoke for the first time in days. Her voice cracked and felt unfamiliar to her ears. "You thought me weak if I recall correctly and now you'd argue I have potential."
"You've proven yourself to be worthy," Jacob stated, not wanting to linger on the fact that he had been sized her up wrong the first time he saw her.  Her figure was timid and small but she was a wildfire just waiting to be let loose on the world. She could do so much if she was willing.
"Worthy of what?" She continued, rage starting to boil at her center. "To be one of Joseph's children? Worthy enough to kill innocent people who never wanted any part of this?" She ground her teeth into a snarl. "I would rather die. "
Jacob chuckled and it took Rook aback a bit. He stood from the desk and bent over her, taking her chin between his fingers while the other supported himself on the armrest. "It's sweet how you think you have a choice, sweetheart."
Rook's heartbeat quickened at his close proximity. His intensity seemed to drown out all else at times and she looked up at him, suddenly hyper-aware of her breath going in and out of her chest. He was so close and a shiver went up to her spine at the pet name. She should hate it admittedly but some part of her was drawn to this, to him.
She didn't know why she could hate him from afar but the moment his attention was on her she became so pliable, so in awe of the air that surrounded him. His touch on her chin almost intoxicating. His fingers were rough and she knew he was too. He didn't quite get the concept of subtility she reckoned.
She pressed forth, in a quick motion, her lips latching onto his and at the exact moment of contact, she knew she had made a mistake. She couldn't believe what she had done, she was afraid of his reaction. Hoped in the rejection he would at least assume it's an evasion tactic. She was always quick to action but not very intelligent about it, jumping headfirst without considering the consequences.
Jacob pulled back after the initial shock, his eyes trying to read her face. She seemed scared. His brows furrowed as he took the information in. She was treading the opposite line, the enemy and even with Joseph's faith in her he could not trust her.  This had to be some sort of trick, he should not press this further. He knew these things, but just as he had pulled back, he had pushed forward now. Her lips had felt so soft against his own, so unlike any of their previous interactions and at that moment it didn't seem like she hated him, almost seemed like she didn't feel disgust towards him.
His hand came to rest at the nape of her neck as he pressed their lips together again. He was slow, cautious. Perhaps it was a lapse in judgment, maybe a way to shut him up, maybe there was regret but he couldn't sense as much when she moved her lips against his own.
She was walking on ice that was waiting to crack, she knew that, but was it wrong of her to want for it to consume her when he was right there with her? Was it wrong of her to want to be dragged under?
Her hands fisted around the material of his jacket, a part of her said she could use this to her advantage for an escape but the part of her that was intoxicated by his being drowned out every level headed comment she could make.
His tongue entered beyond her lips and she was lost. Her skin was on fire and she was seeking it out. His hand moved to the side of her neck and his thumb pressed slightly on her trachea. She felt vulnerable knowing it would be so easy for him to remove her from the equation. She knew that he knew that's what he should do. She had been nothing but a problem to him from the very start and now her life was being held in his hands, still breathing only because he willed it so.
Moments later he removed his hand and she noticed how she liked lingering on the edge of danger. Perhaps that's why she was intoxicated, always lingering on the edge with him.
His hands hooked under her thighs and he made the seemingly effortless move of lifting her and carrying her towards his desk, one hand roughly clearing the table before placing her on it.
She bit into her lip as she looked up at him, anticipation beginning to build within her. This was wrong, he was the enemy, this was very wrong to want. The voice repeated but she elected to ignore it since her desire drowned out the noise and was screaming for him to take her.
His lips latched onto her neck, his teeth grazing over the skin. Rook angled her head so he would have more space to play as her hand combed through his short hair. She closed her eyes and focused on where his lips were on her. His hands roamed over her thighs, over her hips, and then she felt her shirt being unbuttoned. It all felt so agonizingly slow and she wished he would just rip it from her hot skin all the while thinking how she'd regret every moment as it played through her head at a later time.
When he removed the article of clothing he pulled away to regard her. She blushed a soft shade of pink and pathetically pawed at his jacket and to her, it seemed like he had taken pity on her when he removed it, like he'd given her something in return for what he had taken just moments ago.
She then grabbed the hem of his shirt but he grabbed her hand and there was a moment of hesitation as eyes stared into each other, weighing the options. Whether she was even worth the momentary lapse in judgment.
He closed his eyes momentarily and let go, an act so quickly over she almost didn't notice the brief moment of vulnerability. She pulled the shirt from his body and her eyes laid upon his chest. Scars and burn marks laid scattered. Her hand softly touched his chest, it looked so painful even now and as she looked at him, he looked ready to shut her in that cage again. She wasn't worth seeing this part of him. All the sacrifices he made. She wouldn't be able to appreciate them as h had appreciated hers.
She stood and pressed herself to him, lips attaching hungrily to his. Her arms snaking around his neck. It was the only thing she could do, her words wouldn't mean anything to him, there weren't even enough words to explain how she felt and none of it would make any difference.
Jacob was relieved she hadn't made a big deal of it. He didn't want her pity and his previous run-ins in a similar situation he had left them appalled and it angered him, but she.. she still wanted him. She still kissed him as fervently as before she took notice of the markings.
He unbuttoned the front of her jeans and his hands snaked into the confines, roughly and sloppily he moved. Impatient. His rough fingers ran across her slit and he could feel how aroused she already was. If there was any doubt in his mind that she didn't want this, it was all out the window now.
She gasped and let a small moan fall when he touched her. It was small and fleeting when he removed his hand from her pants and placed his finger into his mouth as he looked down on her and groaned. She bit her lip and noticed the indentation growing in his own pants.
There was a quick movement, one she hadn't been expecting in the tranquil moment. He had taken her hips and turned her around, pressing her chest on the desk. He pulled her pants down and she tried as best she could to look behind her with her body on the desk. She didn't dare move from where he had placed her.
She heard the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle and the material of his jeans before a harsh slap reverberated from her left butt cheek. She gasped at the contact and she spread her legs a little wider, as much as she could with her jeans hanging around her knees.
She felt him teasing at her entrance, sticking himself in her juices as he ran his cock up and down her slit.
"Jacob.." she bit into her lip. This was all but a gentle interaction, not quite how she fantasized about things. Nonetheless, she didn't quite expect much more from someone like him, and yet with all these thoughts roaming her mind, she just wanted him within her, for him to use her as he will.
"Ask me nicely."
She bit into her lip and closed her eyes. She didn't want to admit it, admit she thought about him, admit she wanted him buried inside her, wanted him to take control of her and use her. She didn't want him to know how much she wanted this but she knew it was the way to what she needed right now.
"Jacob, please.."
The answer seemed to suffice as she felt him push into her. She half expected him to roughly thrust into her all the way but to hr surprise h pushed into her slowly as she'd allow, waiting for her body to adjust when he was buried in her to the hilt.  
"Fuck." He groaned as he held her hips to him, bruisingly she felt his fingers curl around her hips.
Rook pulled a bit and pushed back when the pain subsided, eliciting a deep groan from him mingled with her own moan.
"Shit.." she heard him breathe before he slammed into her. Over and over she felt him hit deep within her with a pace that made her dizzy. The front of her legs hit the desk and she could hear it move every so often. Moans fell from her lips unchecked as she lay there, exposed and so very full. She never wanted to end, the way he knew just how to angle his hips to make her cry out for him. The thoughts of whether or not someone heard her, had disappeared from her mind before she had a chance to even fully develop them. All she knew was the ecstasy being pushed into her time and time again.
Jacob looked at her, the way his cock disappeared within her, the way she took him without any protest, the way she called out to him. She was especially beautiful at this moment. His right hand moved from the spot where he was clutching her hips and tangled it within her soft hair, pulling her body back and eliciting another scream as he used it to slam deeper into her.
He could feel she was getting close with her walls fluttering around him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades before he spoke to her, his voice low and demanding.
"Come for me, baby. Let me feel you."
Rook felt her world fell apart with a nickname so unfamiliar yet he said it so easily. Her body fell into oblivion as she came. Her walls clenched around him tightly but he didn't stop pushing into her. She screamed something that vaguely sounded like his name but she couldn't be sure as she saw white and the utter bliss coursed through her veins unchecked.
Moments later Jacob gave an animalistic groan and came inside her, ribbon after ribbon of his hot seed coated her walls and he stayed like that for a few seconds, catching his breath before pulling out and watching as both of their pleasure ran down her leg.
They were both breathing heavy and she had stayed where he placed her for a while as she tried to find her way back to herself.
He had pulled her up by snaking a hand around her middle and turned her to face him. It seemed almost sweet as he placed a strand of hair behind her ear but she knew better than to put any stake in that. Her cheeks were flushed and she was still breathing heavy, swaying a bit on her feet.
She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Would he put her back in the cage now or try to convince her to accept her fate or perhaps he would just end her here and now, not that she'd mind, his next words to her would surely break any illusion that she might've had about what just occurred.
"If you could only accept the truth, this wouldn't be so hard " Jacob sighed. "You defy me at every turn except when you're under me." A small smirk ghosted over his features.
He took a breath and placed her on the desk, pulling his pants up and burying himself from her sight.
"Let's get you cleaned up and we'll continue the conversation I was trying to have with you before and this time you won't escape it so easily."
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englass · 3 years ago
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I'm really torn between the Bloodborne drabble and FC5 - Whiskey Tango, so it's totally your pick! (Or both, maybe? 👀)
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Ask and ye shall receive-- we're doing both! I am gonna put 'Whiskey Tango' under a cut tho if that's okay hun; I don't want to take up too much space by having them both in the open. Plus 'WT's' history has a... sensitive topic involved lets say, so I'm gonna play it safe.
In other news, it's a good thing I've got two Bloodborne drabbles on the list haha 😉 But like with the other one this doesn't really have much of a story? I was just really into Bloodborne at the time and was writing little thought pieces(?). I don't actually know how to describe these...
Here's a bit of it anyway:
"... Yet as it reaches out for you, like a doting parent would it’s young offspring, you finally reach an understanding; you finally see a clear path - know what needs to happen. After such a long and arduous hunt you have finally been granted eyes.
You hope this is the end. You hope that the cycle stops after this. That what you plan to do, what you plan to sacrifice to bring an end to the curse of Yharnam, will not be in vain.
You hope you’ll be remembered. By who you do not know, there’s no one else left, yet you hope... you hope.
Tears paint a sad stream down your cheeks as you accept your fate. Accept the change this will bring. You accept, and you hope wholeheartedly, that this is truly the end you’ve been searching for."
Now on to 'WT'! First things first, I think I was going through a phase because it seems most WIPs and fics around that time were named after songs lol; but I know I really liked some of Jack Savoretti's stuff at the time so I named the WIP after his song 'Whiskey Tango'. Although I think it was also the song that I imagined Reader Dep to be playing in the fic, though it's never actually mentioned (defo check out his song 'Candlelight' by the way, that shit is so sweet).
Something else about this WIP was that it was intended as an unofficial sequel to 'You'll Know What To Do...'. The song that fic was loosely based off of, 'If I Die Before You', is sad as hell and although the song is more talking about his life, things he should straighten out before he dies and the fear that his lover will "know what to do if [I] die before you", I was going through sad hours so took it in more of a suicide direction.
I doubt anyone has read the fic, it was back in the very early days of my time posting in the fandom and held no pairings, but it was actually split from the same idea that 'Santuary' was originally split from, only it was more focused on the idea that Rook never went to arrest Joseph and instead had silently listened in on the event and heard the news over their work radio. The fic itself is the aftermath of that and the emotional turmoil that follows; how they thought they knew the Seeds, felt betrayed by them, felt they weren't good or experienced enough to deal with this sort of situation alone, how their collegues would be better suited for such responsibility ect ect. It was a sad fic just to be a sad fic.
Because of how I ended it 'Whiskey Tango' ended up becoming an unofficial sequel idea where Rook was now laying low and trying to stay as neutral as possible. Now, to keep a very long fic-history lesson shorter (I'm so sorry by the way), here's a peak:
"... Really you shouldn’t have become a deputy in the first place, but your family had been adamant on you pursuing a career in the force so you’d taken what felt like the easiest option at the time.
Really you should have taken the hard option and told them ‘no’, but hindsight is a terrible thing, and lately you’ve been trying desperately not to think about it. It’s a dangerous pastime, one that almost got you even. You suppose that might be part of the reason why you’re taking this time away from everyone; to get back in contact with yourself. You can think about what you want to do later involving this mess, but for the moment you’re content to forget about it all.
Even if your hands get redder and redder the more you do.
There’s a lull in the song, the cords ringing as you slow to take in the wide expanse of water beneath and before you. A whisper on the wind says you should jump, slide off the edge and see what happens (hope what happens), but you shake that thought loose with a sigh and a sharp strum. Dangerous thoughts make for fatal mistakes..."
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pretend-writer · 5 years ago
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Moonlight (Jacob Seed x reader)
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Summary: There was a turn of events when Deputy Y/N hunts Jacob Seed into the cabin to kill him. 
Pairing: Jacob Seed x reader
Title Reference: Moonlight x Ariana Grande
Word Count: 959 words
Warning: mention of murder and cult, mention of sex, mini-smut
✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤
The time finally came, the day that I get to take down our very own Jacob Seed. He's been terrorizing Hope County for too long and it was about time he was punished for everything he's done.
Sneaking into the dark and quiet cabin, I saw Jacob going through a stash. He was so occupied, this was going to be an easy kill.
Or so I thought
'What are you doing here and how did you find this cabin?' His deep voice startled me, thinking I had a chance to get him before he noticed me.
'How did you know I was here?'
Jacob turned and took one look at me, then went back to digging into his stash. 'Your perfume, I smell it.'
‘Wow, I’m flattered.’ I crossed my arms, ‘What do you got there?’
‘None of your business, princess. Now get lost.’
I chuckled, ‘Oh no, no. I want in on whatever you have your hands on.’
Jacob rolled his eyes as he shook his head. He finally turned around, grabbing the stash tightly in his hand. ‘What makes you think I’m going to share this with you considering that you came here to kill me?’
‘You either willingly hand it over or I’m going to kill you for it. Either way, it’s a win-win situation for me.’ I smiled sarcastically.
‘That’s cute, Dep. You think you can kill me?’
Reaching for his arm, I twisted his arm behind him and kicked the back of his knee which caused Jacob to fall onto the floor. Sitting on his back, I tightly held his hand then snatched the stash from him. ‘You were saying?’
With his face against the floor, he laughed. ‘Congratulation, except you didn’t kill me. Unless you’re actually don’t want to kill me.’
‘I’ve dreamed of killing you from the moment I step foot on Hope County. Don’t be a narcissist.’
‘You and your little crew are trying to get rid of Joseph, John, me and Faith. Yet, you keep ending up with me.’
‘Trying to get rid of one Seed at a time and you just happen to be the first on the list.’
Jacob lightly laughed under his breath. ‘I beg to differ. Not going to lie, you’re pretty tough. If you wanted me dead, you would’ve already killed me a long time ago.’
I never understand how he had such a big ego. I did not do anything to make him special, the Seed siblings were such a joke. Rolling my eyes, I got off of Jacob. ‘I can’t do this, I’ll come kill you some other day. This stash is good for tonight.’
‘See, you just proved my point.’ He said as he got up and patted the dust off of his clothes.
‘Shut up, Jacob. I’ll see you whenever.’ I waved him goodbye, walking my way out the door.
Before I exited out of the cabin, Jacob took my hand and pulled me in. Cornering me against the wall, he smirked. ‘You think I’m going to let you get away?’
'Look who's obsessed now.' I bit my lip and snatched my hand away from him. 'I think the real question is why haven't you killed me?'
He leaned closer, pressing me against the wall where I had no where to go. 'You're interesting, haven't felt a thrill from someone for a long time. Plus I like how you smell.'
'Are you really hitting on me now? Eldest Seed getting a little soft now?'
'Oh, I am definitely not soft right now.' His joke made me roll my eyes. Jacob leaned in and whispered, 'Don't act like you don't want it.'
'I don't.'
'Such a liar.' He raised his eyebrows, his cockiness was getting to him and it was pissing me off. 'John says your sin is wrath but I personally think it's between pride and lust. Guess we will find out soon enough.'
Crossing my arms, I was able to have Jacob back up a little bit. He barely budged but it at least it was something. 'You're unbelievable, you know that?'
'And yet you're still not killing me.' Jacob grabbed my chin, leaning in as he pressed his lips on mine.
My eyes widened and quickly, I scooted my head to the side. Jacob stared at me as I tried to catch my breath and slow down my racing heart. This was definitely not what I had imagine we'd do when I stepped foot into this cabin a few minutes ago.
Jacob Seed was not someone I'd want to be with, considering the damage and the torture that he had done to the citizens of Hope County. I was supposed to save them from him and his siblings. All of the feelings that I had was wrong but it felt so right.
'Just stop being a hero already.' Jacob pressed his body onto me, it was as if he read whatever was going on in my mind. I hated it so much, I couldn't stand that he made me feel so vulnerable.
Without hesitation this time, I crashed my lips and kissed him. It was like all of the sexual tension that we had in the past was finally being relieved.
In between the sloppy kisses, he grabbed my butt and carried me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He gently put me down on the floor, hovering over me without breaking the kiss.
'Wait.' I breathed heavily, it was fascinating how long we went without taking a break at all. 'Are we seriously going to continue on the floor when there's a bedroom next door?'
'Are you f-' Jacob looked at me and then rolled his eyes, picking me back up. 'You're such a fucking princess.'
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chyrstis · 5 years ago
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FC5 Fic Masterlist
It’s been a little over a year now that I’ve fallen in love with this game and I’m still having way too much fun writing for it, so I think it’s time to finally put everything together in a semi-official Masterlist/post to keep things neat and organized. Because let’s be real, Tumblr’s search function is a mess and things get lost way too easily, tagging or not.
In the future I’ll see about adding banners to a few of these, but for now here they are, divided up series by series, and will be updated as new fics are finished up!
**Updated 8/2/24!**
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You’ll be okay, I promise
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Hi, meet Hana Vao. She’s new to Hope County, new to her job as Junior Deputy, and she’s trying her best, darn it. In town for all of two weeks before things go to hell, she’s not sure she’s the hero the county deserves or needs, but is determined to do whatever it takes to fight back as long as she’s up on her feet and breathing.
The following are in chronological order, but as new stories are added, the order here may change!
1. To cleanse, rinse (but don’t repeat)
Rating: T
Word Count: 4.5K
Link to AO3!
The Deputy starts to make progress in John’s region, and with progress comes consequence.
---
2. Nothing like a little friendly fire
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.8K
Link to AO3!
The Deputy’s been tasked with taking down Joseph’s statue. To do that, however, she’s going to need help.
---
3. Just roll with it
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.9K
Link to AO3!
The plan was to hit Boshaw Manor before heading north. Grab some supplies, a working car, and figure it out from there. Sadly, her plans never seem to survive the first draft.
---
4. Rest (and try to relax a little)
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.6K
Link to AO3!
Adelaide is not what the Deputy is expecting, not at all. And with the Whitetail Mountains within reach, she decides it’s better to kick back and rest for once.
She just doesn’t realize how much she’s going to need it.
---
5. Nice try (but it won’t work twice)
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.7K
Link to AO3!
As it turns out, earning Jacob’s attention doesn’t take much effort at all. A fact that the Deputy wishes weren’t the case.
---
6. Grounded
Rating: T
Word Count: 4.8K
Link to AO3!
The Deputy makes contact with the Whitetails, and finds out just what it’s like to wake up after a round in the Chair.
---
7. For you, I’d try
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, the pining is definitely a palpable thing here)
Rating: T
Warning: Brief flashes of blood towards the start, residual effects of Jacob being the jerk that he is after the first time the Dep’s captured in the Whitetails
Word Count: 5.9K
Link to AO3!
She may be short on cigarettes, but not on company. And on a night like this - up in the Whitetails, unable to sleep, and thinking back to that room, that place she can’t quite remember in full - it’s exactly what she needs the most.
---
8. You won’t be the one
Pairing: F!Dep x John Seed (the strange pseudo-flirting really can’t be denied here)
Rating: T
Word Count: 4.9K
Ch.1 / Ch. 2
A conversation in two parts.
---
9. With your hand in mine (it’s going to be fine)
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, but they clearly didn’t get the memo)
Rating: T
Word Count: 6.2K
Link to AO3!
The Widowmaker’s brought back to Fall’s End, and with its arrival comes a need to celebrate.
---
10. Just a suggestion
Pairing: None (F!Dep x John Seed is briefly poked at, however)
Rating: T
Word Count: 805
Link to AO3!
Sharky has an idea. Just not one that the Deputy thinks she’ll ever take him up on.
---
11. Rain or shine
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, but they clearly didn’t get the memo)
Rating: T
Word Count: 4.5K
Link to AO3!
After a mission Sharky’s left with something he wasn’t prepared for: one sick deputy.
---
12. Cold hands (but no cold heart here)
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, but they clearly didn’t get the memo)
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.7K
Link to AO3!
She wasn’t built for the cold. But with him, she didn’t have to be.
---
13. The Broadcast��
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, but they clearly didn’t get the memo)
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.6K
Link to AO3!
A moment of peace never lasts as long as it should. 
---
14. Lighting the Fuse
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw, F!Dep x John Seed (be forwarned, the slow burn is in full effect here for all parties involved, and isn’t stopping anytime soon)
Rating: T
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, John being well, John, bliss aftereffects
Word Count: 21.1K (so far)
Link to AO3!
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / ???
When events are put into motion giving her a shot at an impossible task - capturing John Seed - the deputy jumps at the chance.
There’s only one problem.
She’s not the only one dying to get him, and keeping him alive when even his own people seem to want him dead isn’t looking to be an easy feat either.
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But if we go, we go together
After kicking around the idea of it for a little while (and reading some excellent takes on it here and at AO3) I wanted to explore the potential dynamic between Sharky, Hana, and John post-game, and ended up falling in love with it as a result. Basically the best kind of excuse to write happy, fluffy smutty stuff that I’m hoping to connect to Hana’s main series, and add more to in the future as well!
1. Oh, the things we could do (to see this thing through)
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x F!Dep x John Seed
Rating: E
Word Count: 10.2K
Link to AO3!
Movie nights in the bunker were always an event for them, but this time around they had something else to look forward to (and at the very least, a new flick to put on rotation).
---
2. Wicked Ways
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.6K
Link to AO3!
“Well, fuck me, chica. You’ve uh…you’ve got something in mind, don’t you?”
“I might,” Hana said, running a hand down his chest, “because I was thinking it’s been a while.”
“A while?” Sharky’s voice was already rough on waking up, but now? It rumbled, the sound running right through her as she leaned in, only a breath away. “Been a while since what?”
“Since I’ve had you all to myself in the morning like this.”
-- And that opportunity she plans on savoring for as long as she possibly can.
-----
3. From your lips to my ears
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed, Sharky Boshaw x F!Dep x John Seed
Rating: E
Word Count: 9.2K
Link to AO3!
John’s looking for advice on a specific topic, and while Sharky’s not sure he’s the right person to ask, he’s certainly willing to give it his best shot.
---
4. Together
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x F!Dep x John Seed
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.2K
Link to AO3!
She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this. Of these nights, and the company she’s able to keep.
5. Two’s company, three’s a crowd
Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.1K
Link to AO3!
She’s got time to spare in the bunker for once. To kick back, relax, and burn off some steam, and lucky for her Sharky’s determined to join her.
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We could make a home out of this
The Sharky/John No Cult AU that’s slowly become one of my favorite things to write over the last six months or so. Starting with I won’t ask for much, it was originally written for the FC5/ND Holiday Exchange in December of 2019 as a gift for the excellent finefeatheredgamer here on Tumblr, and it’s taken on a life of its own ever since. Even though there’s only a couple of extra fics added to the series so far, there’s at least four others lying in wait that I’m hoping to finish soon, all of which either take place during the main fic or after.
1. I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you)
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed
Rating: E
Word Count: 40.9K  
Link to AO3!
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10
Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back.
---
2. A change of pace (and opinion)
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed (pre-ship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 5K  
Link to AO3!
It’s a hot day down by the river, and while Sharky’s not too keen on a break when John suggests it, a bet’s a whole other story altogether.
[Set between I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) ’s Ch. 3 and 4]
---
3. You’ve got me (if you want me)
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed (pre-ship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 10.6K  
Link to AO3!
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2
Sharky’s plans for the day were pretty straightforward - get up, gear up, and head on out to Moonflower to see about getting his speakers replaced. So when he finds himself on the side of the road helping a stranded group of Peggies, he's ready to roll with it. Even when that change in plans ends up leading him straight to Joseph's compound instead.
[Set between I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I'd like you)’s Ch. 4 and 5]
---
4. To offer (and maybe even to have)
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed (pre-ship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.7K  
Link to AO3!
It’s late, and long after the fire’s started to burn itself down, John finds himself sitting next to it. Still there, and thinking far too much about the figure snoring next to him.
[Companion Fic to I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you)’s Ch. 5]
---
5. Color one, or two?
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed (pre-ship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.6K
Link to AO3!
John’s got a question to ask. Sharky may or may not have an answer, because seriously, red is fucking red, and he’s not quite sure what the problem is.
---
[Set between I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) ’s Ch. 5 and 6]
6. To all my mornings starting with you
Link to AO3!
Rating: E
Word Count: 6.4K
Sharky attempts breakfast. …Then a few other things after that.
Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed 
[A mini-sequel to the main fic! But very much of the PWP with feelings variety]
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Far Cry 2020 Fanzine - Found here!
I was lucky enough to have the chance to participate in the fanzine proposed months back, getting to work with a bunch of awesome people to boot, while also seeing some incredible entries from others.
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A Mine-or Inconvenience
Link to AO3!
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: Drinking, dead animals (one very unlucky boar to be exact), explosions
Sharky’s day is off to a rough start, but it soon takes a turn even he wasn’t expecting. …And that’s counting the smoking, boar-shaped spot on his front lawn.
Rating: T
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western-writer · 4 years ago
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New Beginnings
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Warnings: mentions of killing one's self, slight language, slight descriptions of death, and mentions of death itself
Summary: When the Resistance accidentally almost gets the Deputy killed, members take a step back to evaluate their actions. When Dep finally wakes, she's troubled about her health and is unsure how to move on with life.
A/n: this isn't edited but I've been working on this one for a really long time and I honestly love how it turned out so enjoy!
The stillness and lack of gun power in the air made some residents of Hope County question if yesterday's events actually happened.
Mary May stands behind the bar, leaned on the counter and being supported by a single arm. The other arm is occupied with the task of bringing her drink to her lips so she can nurse the strong beverage. Her eyes are glossy. Her mind is off in a distant place. She wishes nothing more than to leave.
The rising sun's light leaks into the bar as the door opens and disappears as the door shuts. Pastor Jerome Jefferies enters, sharing a forlorn look with Mary May. He strides toward her and takes a seat on a barstool.
"Penny for your thoughts," Jerome murmurs, pouring himself a glass of the dark liquid.
Mary May inhales sharply before breaking her gaze on a barstool scratch on the wooden floor.
"Was yesterday actually real or did I just have an incredibly vivid, terrible dream?" She pushes herself up on the counter, now leaning on the heel of her hand.
"Unfortunately, all too real," Jerome responds regretfully.
Mary May sighs. Blood on her hand catches her eye and she jumps, pained by the sight. Pastor Jerome catches this and follows her eyes.
"You should wash that off," he advises.
Nodding slowly, Mary May takes a wet wash rag from the counter and wipes her hands off and then tosses the rag into the trash. For that one, she thinks, it's best to just throw away.
She runs both hands over her face, muttering a question to Pastor Jerome. "Why'd we do it? Why the HELL did we do it?"
"People do some stupid things when they're scared," he answers. "That doesn't make it right, but it makes us human."
"I wish humans weren't so stupid," Mary May says angrily.
Laying in a bed in a coma is Rook. Beside her is a very, very angry Kim Rye. She told the Resistance it was a bad idea. She told them to trust the Deputy. They didn't listen and it almost cost Rook her life. It still might.
Her husband, Nick, enters the room and stands in the doorway meekly. He knows he's part of the reason Rook is where she is, and he doesn't know if Kim will ever forgive him for his part.
"How's she doin'?" he questions.
Kim responds without looking at him. "Still pretty fucking lifeless, Nick. She's being kept alive by machines."
He stares at Rook, at where he knows the bullets pierced her body. He wants to say something else. He should say something else, but he can't bring himself to. His chest aches, ridden with guilt.
"If she doesn't wake up..." Kim starts to say before taking a breath to calm herself. "If she doesn't wake up, Nick... I will NEVER forgive you. Do you understand that?"
Nick sighs. "I understand. I won't forgive myself either."
Sharky hadn't slept all night. The image of Rook's unmoving body in a pool of her own blood is burned into his brain. Everytime he shut his eyes he saw it, almost like it was tattooed on the inside of his eye lids. He was stupid and he knew it. Rook always made the right call when it came down to it. What made him think this time would be any different? He couldn't bring himself to trust the cult to keep their word, and in turn, that meant he didn't trust Rook.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he mutters to himself, pacing his trailer. The words rolled out of his mouth over and over until he couldn't bare to talk anymore.
"Goddammit, Shark," he cusses himself. "You really fucked it this time."
He couldn't pull himself out of his dread long enough to go see her. He isn't sure if he even wants to see her in the first place. Seeing her like that... he's not sure he'll be able to bounce back from it, especially if Rook doesn't make it.
An ear piercing scream rips through the air, giving the echoing sound of the gun shot that just fired a run for it's money. A collective gasp and stunned scream comes from bystanders as the unarmed follower drops to her knees, blood spurting from the bullet hole in her neck. Nick's plane flies over them, dropping bombs uncomfortably close to them, which sends everyone into a panic.
Rook dives into cover as the cult begins to return fire. She's weaponless which makes her helpless. Frantically, Rook looks around, hoping to find a discarded weapon. Her eyes land on one not far from her, dropped on the ground presumably by the now dead body next to it. She waits until an opening and makes a break for the weapon, but she falls short when a large boot comes into contact with her face. The force of the kick knocks her onto her back and she peers up at the culprit.
"Was this a set up!?" the Chosen member in front of Rook screams at her. This particular Chosen happened to have a gun, and was now pointing it right at Rook.
"No! No! Of course not!" Rook shouts back, trying desperately to be heard over the gunfire. She looks around, hoping to see Joseph somewhere, but, of course, Joseph is no where to be found. She cusses to herself, knowing he would believe her when she said this was not her idea.
"Awfully convenient," he remarks, rounding on her like a predator stalks it's prey. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she watches the barrel of the gun circle her.
Gunfire around them seemed to cease as the only thing Rook could hear was the sound of his boots hitting the ground. Then, three gun shots fire off and the world goes silent. Two bullet land themselves in Rook's chest and the third in the head of the cultist that just shot Rook.
The fight lasted no more than a few minutes before the cultist got his hands on Rook, yet claimed many lives, starting with the unarmed cultist and potentially ending with Rook.
Rook had laid in her own blood for almost thirty seconds before someone came to her aid. Mary May was quick to put press on the wounds. Eventually, under Joseph's order, his doctor's rushed her away for emergency surgery. The rest of them were left at the battle site, wondering if Rook would pull through.
"I knew it was a bad idea," Eli mumbled, unsure if anyone was listening. "You all were so angry when I said not to participate and look what happened!"
The Whitetails in front of Eli cringe at his loud voice. They're now thankful they didn't participate in the bloodbath that might take the Deputy away.
"You were right, Eli," Wheaty responds. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you."
"Eli, come on. You have to admit that we had absolutely no reason to believe that the cult would really back down if we did."
"You're right, Tammy. We had no reason to trust the cult, but we had every reason to trust Dep. Look at all she's done for us, at everything she's been through because of the cult. She just wanted peace and the rest of them couldn't let her have that."
Silence falls over the small crowd and Eli sighs, setting his bow down on the table.
"I'm going to see her. I advise that you all just stay here."
Standing outside the room, Eli hears multiple voices and comes to the conclusion that one of them belongs to Kim Rye. She hasn't left Rook's side since she came here.
"Thank you... for, you know, taking care of her."
"Of course," another female voice responds. It sounds familiar to Eli but he can't quite place it. After a pause and a heavy sigh, Eli enters the room. He finds Kim sitting in a chair beside the bed, Faith Seed administering medicine. Kim turns and sees Eli. She stands up and walks over to hug him quickly.
"Thank you for coming," Kim says to him. Eli nods to her and then Faith.
"Faith," he says, nodding his head as if he's tipping a hat. "How's she doin'?"
"She's making progress," Faith responds. "She was lucky that both bullets didn't kill her on impact. These bullets could've easily hit her heart. It would've been over before it started."
Eli sighs and pulls up a chair, sitting beside Kim.
"All we can do is keep her comfortable and keep infection from setting in. The machines will do the rest until her body can take over."
"When do you think that will be?"
"We can't be sure, if I'm being honest. Maybe she'll just wake up."
Kim smiles sadly. "I'll never forget her rolling up to the airstrip in Nick's plane like she owned the place. That's how I knew she was different than the rest. That's the moment I was sure she was our hope." Kim glances at Eli, then back at Rook. "Have you talked to any of the Resistance?"
"Not besides my Whitetails. Have you?"
"Just Nick."
"I wonder how the others are coping..."
"I imagine not well," Faith pipes up. "Everyone I talk to talks so highly of her, even some followers. She's a force to be reckoned with, I know that first hand." Faith smiles a bit before it falls. "Can I ask you both something?"
"Sure," Eli and Kim respond.
"Would both have been satisfied with a peace treaty? Like, actually satisfied or would you have rathered to eradicate us but settled for peace?"
It takes the two of them a minute to respond. Eventually Kim speaks up.
"If I'm being honest, I wasn't pleased with it at first. It was only after talking to Dep about a lot did I come around to being at peace with the idea."
"Same here. It definitely took a lot of contemplating, but at the end of the day, I came around thanks to Dep."
"Why? You both spoke so openly about wishing death on my family. What changed?"
Kim and Eli share a look before Kim answers for the both of them. "I think both Eli and I can agree that it was seeing what this fight was doing to Dep. She was constantly anxious and paranoid. She didn't sleep and when she did the nightmares made it pointless. The weight of the county was on her shoulders and it wasn't fair. If living peacefully with you all meant Dep would finally have peace, it was worth it."
A small smile makes it way onto Faith's lips. "I think in a different life her and I could've been friends..."
Footsteps behind them pull the three of them out of their conversation to look behind them. Walking up the hallway is Deputy Pratt followed closely by Jacob Seed. Pratt's eyes go wide when he sees her.
"W-w-what happened to her?" he questions, moving to stand beside her bed.
"Shot," Jacob answers gruffly.
"How?" Pratt responds.
"While trying to discuss a peace treaty with Eden's Gate," Faith answers before Jacob can, effectively silencing whatever insensitive answer Jacob had.
Jacob rolls his eyes at her, leaning against the doorframe.
"What happened to the person that did this?" Staci asks, looking around at everyone.
"I dealt with him personally," Jacob answers coldly.
Staci looks away from Jacob and back to Rook. He hoped she'd never have to be in this position.
Days went by and the worry through out the county intensified. Rook wasn't showing any signs of waking up anytime soon. Finally, after ten days and being in a coma she opened her eyes at 2:37 AM. Beside her still in a restless sleep was Kim Rye. Kim's eyes shot open the moment she sensed Rook being awake.
"Oh, my God, Deputy!" Kim exclaimed, jumping up and running to her. "I'm gonna take this tube out of your mouth, okay?" Rook nods back slightly and very carefully Kim pulls the tube out of her throat.
Rook groans, looking at her bandaged body and fighting the rasp in her throat to say something. She can't find the words but Kim knows exactly what she's trying to say.
"You-you were shot, Deputy. Point blank in the chest twice. While you were trying to negotiate peace." Kim chokes up a little bit, overwhelmed by happiness.
Rook's eyes dart around the ceiling as so many questions bounce in her head.
"I'll explain more later, but right now we need to get you checked out. We have to make sure you haven't sustained any serious damage besides the obvious." Kim puts her hand on Rook's shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. She stops before exiting and turns back to Rook. "It's good to see you awake, Deputy. We were -I was - starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."
Two weeks after waking up Rook was ready to sit up. After two months she was standing, something they feared she may never do again, and only a month after that she was walking again with help.
Many people around the county came to her aid, offering to help her with whatever she needed. They did a great job at keeping her occupied and entertained. When she was well enough, many would take her for short car rides around the county, and Nick even took her up in his plane once.
Dep had almost no memory of that day. She remembers laying on the ground with a gun in her face and then waking up in the hospital bed. Kim, though, took the liberty of filling her in, explaining what the Resistance did. At first Rook was angry. She was so angry that they doubted her so much that they took such drastic measures. But she saw the guilt the carried when they'd visit her. She could hear it in their words and see it in their actions. They were trying so hard to make it up to her.
Eventually, Rook was able to let go of her anger towards them and be able to understand why they did it. While it doesn't excuse their actions, it certainly helped Rook understand. Her understanding was what led her to forgiving.
Talk of a peace agreement began to circle the county when Rook made an off hand comment about intending to follow through with that once she was fully recovered. Though true, Rook was worried about her health. While the bullets missed her heart, she sustained damage to her lungs and spinal cord. Rook doesn't vocalize these fears until a night where Jacob was tasked with watching her overnight.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor when Jacob entered with dinner for them both. He sets the bag down next to her and takes a seat beside the bed. She reaches for it, opening it.
"Chicken tenders, fuck yeah," she says, pulling the food out of the bag.
Jacob props his feet up on the chair beside him and takes a bit of his burger. Rook slowly eats her food.
"So, you still wanna go through with a peace agreement, huh?"
Rook looks up at him cautiously, surprised that he's making conversation.
"I would like to, yes," Rook answers.
Jacob grunts a reply. He was never a fan of the idea of surrender. But Joseph said it's what God wants, and what Joseph says, goes.
"I wouldn't expect you to like the idea, Jacob. But the amount of relief I felt when Joseph agreed was astronomical. Like a huge weight off my shoulders."
Jacob looks up at her. She's staring at the floor again.
"I guess my relief wasn't long lived." She takes a long, ragged breath and takes another bite.
"You know," he starts. "When I first saw you in that church, my expectations for you were so low, but you proved me wrong."
"I don't think that counts of a compliment, Jake."
Jacob rolls his eyes. "It's not supposed to be one. I was just sayin'."
Rook sighs and carefully slides back, moving to lay on the bed. She tries to move her leg without using her hands. Jacob watches her for a second before she gives up and uses her hands to lift each leg onto the bed. She leans back, staring right at the ceiling. She glances at him and he can tell that something is on her mind. He recognizes the look.
"Spill it," he demands. "Something's bothering you. Spill it."
"Like you care," Rook responds.
"I don't," Jacob snaps back. "But if I have to deal with that fuckin' look on your face all night, I'll kill myself."
Rook sighs, looking down at her legs. "I'm worried about my health, Jacob. The bullets damaged a lung and my spinal cord."
Jacob stares at her.
"The fact that I have any feeling in my legs is a miracle... but I may never be able to walk without assistance ever again. And even if I can, my bad lung will make it nearly impossible to do anything ever again. I probably won't be able to work at all, let alone go back to being a cop."
"Why'd you wanna go back to your job after everything?"
Rook smiles a bit. "I've never felt like I belong more than when I'm in that uniform. And now I'm not even 30 and my career is over. I felt so... content being able to help people and now that chance is gone. Early retirement here I come."
"You're afraid that you'll never have a purpose again, right?"
Rook stops before slowly nodding.
Jacob sits there calmly and Rook continues to ramble on and he actually listens. He surprised at all the information she reveals to him. He never would've guessed that all that had been going on inside her head. Finally, she pauses and Jacob decides to interject.
"You've got something goin' for you, Deputy. More than I ever did when I was discharged from the army."
Rook stops, looking at him and wondering where this is going. "And what would that be, Jacob?"
Jacob sighs, leaning back in his chair. "You've got a whole county dedicated to you, Dep. That's more than I can say for myself. I was a mess before Joseph found me. But these people... they won't let that happen to you. I know they won't. They feel too guilty and care about you too much. You'll find your purpose, Dep. It'll just take a little time."
Rook is stunned by Jacob's words, and so is Jacob himself. But the words are burned into her brain whether she wants them to be or not.
Rook heals more and begins to become more mobile. As she promised, she follows through with the peace agreement and the whole county shows up to witness history. Only when she's standing there in front of all the people she had fought for and fought against does she finally understand the meaning of Jacob's words. She doesn't need to be a cop to help people. She's helping them right now. She's bringing peace to their home.
It takes some time after peace settled in the county for things to go back to normal. Rook, being tired of staying at home doing nothing began to search for jobs she could do with her limited mobility and damaged lung. It was difficult and after a while she began to lose hope. Then, out of no where she received a letter from Jacob explaining to her to per the peace agreement, he was converting the Vet's Center back to an actual sanctuary for lost and broken veterans that need help getting back on their feet. In the letter, Jacob offers her a management position, claiming her to be the best person for the job that he knows. He understands that the job might a little bit demanding for her given her health, but he's willing to work with her on it if she agrees.
Rook is floored by this surprisingly kind gesture and she takes the job on the spot.
Working along side Jacob like this, she learns so much more about him and his family that she never would've learned otherwise.
One day, while they're working, Jacob admits to her that he was the one that killed the person that shot her.
"I didn't even think about it. We arrived to the chaos and when I saw him shoot you I just... acted."
"You saved my life that day, Jacob. Who knows how many more times he would've shot me."
Jacob nods, almost dismissively, but now she just knows that's how he is. Somehow, in a round a bought sort of way, they became friends. They all did. Resistance members were now actively helping members of Eden's Gate with random projects and visa versa. None of the ever thought that this would come from a truce, but they all agree that it feels good to have a new beginning. It feels good to feel safe again. And that's all thanks to Rook.
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jacobseed · 5 years ago
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not to be like that, but i wrote a little fic for @bigbywlf and their beautiful dep  who i love bc I’ve been replaying fc5 and was f e e l i n g it. so here we go it’s not long but I thought I’d share...
pairing: Blue Hawkins (deputy)/Staci Pratt warnings: none ---------------
Operation: Rescue Staci Pratt had commenced with the death of Jacob Seed. She knew he was in the bunker, she knew Jacob had locked him in a room, but she hadn’t a clue where exactly, and upon entering the bunker, it only seemed that much harder. 
There were many turns and corridors and screaming men standing in her way. However, with the echoing booming of gunfire and ringing of bullets bouncing off the metal walls, Blue was more determined than ever now. 
Finding him was easier than she thought, in the end. However, seeing him in that chair, questioning her if she were real, it all hurt. She reassured him that she was in fact real, held him up as he stumbled on his feet, and then stood back and watched as he smashed the machines and shot up the place. 
While this may have been therapeutic for him, it was time to leave or all of this would have been for nothing. 
Navigating through Jacob’s bunker as the ground shook as if the earth was going to open up and swallow it whole, was something no man should ever go through. Especially not after having been tortured and left to die. Definitely not while having to fight his way out if he ever wanted to see what freedom was like. 
Staci was holding it together well enough, although she could see the rickety roller coaster of emotions he was currently riding on. The man was a fucking fragile ticking time bomb, counting down the speeding seconds until he would explode. She wasn’t so sure she was prepared for that to happen. 
“Blue, this way.” Staci grabbed her hand, pulling her around the corner and down another stretch of bunker hallway. 
Blue followed him closely, on guard for more peggies that were surely bound to show up and try and stop them. She worried for Pratt, but right now, they had to work as a team if they wanted to make it out alive. 
Everything felt like a blur, as explosions set off, crumbling the walls of the bunker and fire erupted around them. Blue led Staci along behind her, racing towards the open bunker door she knew was waiting for them up the stairs, where she could see the night sky, the arriving trucks of the resistance, the freedom from this stifling hellhole. 
Staci was quiet when they made it out, when the noises stopped and the fire burned behind them. He didn’t move as he watched the damn thing rage on, flames beckoning from the entrance to the bunker, like it was calling him back. When she had touched his arm, that’s when he turned towards her. 
“You came back.” He whispered as he stared, as if their grand escape hadn’t happened. Like it had all been a dream. But, she was standing here, holding his arm to steady him. He moved forward, wrapping his arms around her torso, hands holding her side firmly, and burying his face into her neck. “I didn’t think you’d come back.” 
Blue smiles as she runs her fingers through his messy hair. “Of course I did. Who the hell do you think I am?” She grows quiet, rubbing gentle and slow circles into his back, closing her eyes as she takes a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 
Staci didn’t respond, but he only held on tighter, crying quietly into her jacket. She gets him to his feet and waves off anyone that had come over to check on them. Pratt sobers up quickly, taking a deep breath and Blue holds onto his hand, just as he had inside the bunker during their escape. 
“Where are we going?” He questions softly, his brows furrowed and eyes constantly looking over his shoulder. 
Blue frowns, squeezing his hand and walking out to the road in search of a car. She might have to take one of the Militia’s. “For now, we’ll go back to the Wolf’s Den. It’s the safest place for you right now.” 
She yells to a resistance member that she needs their truck and although they didn’t seem too enthused by the idea, they agreed. Blue tugs him to the passenger side and pulls the door open, waiting for him to get in. He only stands there, sighing softly. Before she can say anything, he climbs up and carefully closes the door.
Blue walks around to the drivers side and pulls herself up and into the seat, turning the keys quickly and trying to ignore the rumbling of the engine that was overwhelming to her ears. “Where will you go?” Staci asks suddenly, not looking at her, but at the dashboard in front of him. 
He knew she wouldn’t stay at the Den with him. He knew that she had other matters to attend to than his own. She sits back, watching him carefully. “I have to end this, Staci. I have to help the others. Joseph hurt the people I care about, so I’m going to hurt him in return.” 
“And then?” 
It’s quiet between them as she processes that question. She never really thought about it before. “And then we go home.” 
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outranks · 6 years ago
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F!Dep/Joseph, "Can I do your hair?" Please? (:
are you ready for some REAL DUMB FLUFF?? bc that’s. that’s what I’ve got. I hope you like it ❤️❤️😭
There are a lot of problems in Hope County, not least of which is nearly everything, but for Rook the one thing that’s always a special kind of annoying is the lack of easily found foods. A granola bar would be amazing, or a little bag of pretzels. Two weeks earlier she had found some questionable, but still edible, cheese crackers that she’s been hoarding like a small, greedy dragon. The little packs are her most prized possession.
She’s digging around in her bag, coming to the sad realisation that she doesn’t have a single scrap of food with her, when the ground she’s walking on disappears from under her and she trips all the way down a decently sized hill and lands in a patch of bright, sparkling Bliss.
“Fuck,” Rook groans, pushing herself up and feeling a sharp, cold spike of pain shoot through her ankle. “Ow, fuck, fuck, okay, fuck.” She isn’t sure where her bag landed, and she definitely can’t see it through all the Bliss. Which means no radio to call for help.
And definitely no snacks.
Rook drops back onto the dirt, resigned to living out the rest of her life in this exact spot.
“Rook?” Faith asks, bending over her with a look of shimmering concern. ”Are you alright?”
“Begone, specter.” Rook waves her arm at Faith, hitting her on the leg. “How the— how did you get her?”
“I’ve been following you.”
Rook isn’t sure how to take that, and just as unsure if she wants an explanation. “Do you do that often?”
Faith shrugs. “Should I call Joseph?”
“No,” Rook says. “I live here now.”
“I’m going to call Joseph.”
Rook closes her eyes, waving off Faith, and when she opens them again Joseph is there, looking down at her with concern. Either she fell asleep or he’s learned how to teleport, and maybe it’s the Bliss in her head but that doesn’t seem entirely unreasonable. “Hey, you,” she says, reaching out for him. “I was out of food and then I fell.”
“Faith said as much,” Joseph says. “She was concerned about leaving you in the Bliss too long.”
“The flowers are my new friends and this is my home.” Rook spreads her arms wide to indicate the patch of Bliss and the dirt she’s laying on.
Joseph’s expression turns confused, then concerned, then slips into a soft fondness she’s growing used to. “Can you walk?”
“Nope, that’s why I’ve made this my home.”
“Of course,” Joseph murmurs, then scoops her up into his arms so quickly that her head spins with it. Or possibly that’s the Bliss. “I’ll have a doctor meet us at the compound.”
Rook presses her face to Joseph’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and the expensive body wash he used that she knows John buys in bulk. It’s comforting, grounding in a way, cutting through some of the sugary-sweet Bliss. “My hero,” she says. “My— my guy. My hero guy.” They pass by Faith who looks like she’s desperately trying not to laugh. “Bye, Faith, thank you for saving my life! You’re my favorite Seed, but don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.” Faith promises.
Joseph sighs so hard Rook can feel it.
“Bye, Faith,” Rook calls again as she and Joseph approach a sedately painted blue car without even a hint of the Eden’s Gate logo on the side. “Ah, the stealth car.”
“It— yes,” Joseph says, “the stealth car.”
There’s a Peggie standing by the open back door doing his very best to pretend he’s not listening and doesn’t see the Father carrying the cult’s number one enemy in a bridal carry. The poor guy looks ready to faint which makes Rook feel a little bad.
“Don’t worry,” she says, patting the Peggie on the shoulder before Joseph gets her into the back seat. “It’s okay, I won’t blow up this car. This is the stealth car.” The Peggie doesn’t look any better and Rook just has to assume that’s the guy’s natural state. Pale, wide-eyed, and terrified.
What a way to live.
Once she’s inside Rook stays sitting only long enough for Joseph to climb in beside her before she lays down with her head pillowed in his lap. “Can I do your hair? I could curl it, or maybe a french braid? Something fun to inspire the faithful.”
The Peggie makes a sad, strangled noise as he slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.
“Later,” Joseph says, “I’ll let you do whatever you want with my hair.”
Rook nods, agreeing to his terms momentarily. “I was being heroic, you know.”
“Were you?”
“I was saving a baby.”
Joseph hums thoughtfully.
“From a bear.” Rook knocks against the back of the driver’s seat. “You hear that? Make sure you tell the story of how I saved a baby from a bear.” The Peggie makes that same sad, strangled noise which she takes as confirmation.
“That is heroic,” Joseph says.
Rook reaches for him, dragging him down into a kiss and using the opportunity to untie his hair. It’s silky soft, slipping through her fingers as she smiles against Joseph’s lips. “You said I could play with your it,” she reminds him, deciding she’s going to make him keep is loose later when they’re somewhere more comfortable. “I like you like this.”
Joseph sits up, plucking the hair tie from her fingers. “I said you could play with it later,” he says, trying for a serious tone in spite of the way his mouth pulls up at the corners.
“Fine,” Rook sighs, stretching out as much as she can in the cramped car, and closes her eyes. “Will you cook dinner for me so I don’t starve and die?”
“Of course.”
“You’re my favorite Seed,” Rook says, “but don’t tell anyone.”
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ao3feed-farcry · 4 years ago
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by BrokenBranch
Y/N, Juinor Deputy and the trigger of the end of the world is tired. Tired of running, fighting.. she is a tool for the resistance and the cult.
After reading a certain book her mind had been torn between two worlds. Could she bring peace to Hope County?
Words: 1206, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: FarCry5, Farcry, Farcry New Dawn
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Joseph Seed, John Seed, Jacob Seed, Faith Seed, Pastor Jerome, Nick Rye, Kim Rye, Sharky, Hurk, Mary May, Sherrif Whitehorse, Deputy Hudson, Staci Pratt, Deputy Pratt, Peggies - Character, Misc characters - Character, npcs
Relationships: joseph seed x reader, Female Deputy | Judge & Joseph Seed, Female Deputy x Joseph Seed
Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Peace, Switching Sides, Bringing peace to hope county, judges, Wolves, jacob has a crush on the dep, Fluff, Mention of smut, slight nsfw, Making Out, Abandonment, Pain, anguish, End of the World, Pregnancy, love hate relationship, Rejection
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naromoreau · 6 years ago
Note
I'd love to see some soft Joe smut with f!Dep 😊
Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like what I wrote for you _____________________________________________Pairing: Joseph Seed x F!DeputyRating: NSFW
It’s amazing how less cooped up the bunker seems with every passing month. She watches Joseph fumbling with a pickle jar, trying to prepare the scarce dinner they share every night. Rook can't stop noticing alarming new things day in and day out, just like she’s doing right now. It’s the twist of his hand. Definitely. Or the flush of his cheeks. Or perhaps the way his brow furrows, wracking the immutably calmed expression of his face. Rook isn’t sure and can’t pin down the exact motion that makes her gut stir, but there it is. He grunts under a heavy sigh and she titters at how ridiculous the whole situation is.
“It’s stuck,” he apologizes, giving a final try, flexing his biceps under the mild exertion, another sign that doesn’t go unheeded, as her fluttering stomach can vouch.
A tinge of color blooms on her cheeks. “God, you’re so useless,” she blurts out in the middle of a jag of laughter carefully elicited to hide her state.
She swings her legs on the stool, finally coming down and reaching for the jar. “It’s not about brute force.” She grabs a spoon, giving gentle taps to the side of the lid for a few seconds. “There, try now.”
Joseph takes the jar from her hand, grazing her fingers while doing so. There’s a small quiver somewhere in her chest that she tries desperately to stomp down. Yes. She still balks at the idea, thinking whatever she may feel is bound to be repaid with a sharp rebuff from Joseph’s part. They have a history together after all, and it’s not a good one.
“Praise the Lord! We have pickles.”
Rook jolts out of her inner dilemma to see him smiling. So genuinely. She smiles as well. “Dinner has been significantly improved,” she says serving herself from the bowl they share, silencing her floundering thoughts, “god, Joseph, really, how have you managed ‘til now?”
He knits his brows, a hint of amusement on his face. “What do you mean?”
“You are bested by pickle jars, you hate peanut butter sandwiches-”
“I didn’t think you noticed,” he says with a glint of mirth in his blue eyes, “we usually don’t have breakfast together.”
“Well, I uhm-- I did notice,” she plainly states, hoping the creeping blush on her cheeks won’t belie her hidden feelings.
He says nothing, just doing what she expects and hopes for every night. “It’s time to say Grace.” Joseph extends his arms over the mantelpiece, palms up, and waits for her to do what she knows must be done. A little something she indulges in, because after all these months she still sinks and drowns in a morass of guilt for her past actions.
She reaches forward and places her hands over his, enjoying the contact and the current of electricity that careens through her just by the mere touch. Which is silly. Rook stares at him intently as Joseph recites verses with that faint lilt she has grown fond of.
So few months. Yet so many things had changed, time dwindling her reservations, disrupting everything she believed in and allowing her to see-- to see him. To see him just as Joseph. Forgiving and kind, in equal contrast to her bitterness.
“I have something for you after dinner,” Joseph says after finishing his prayer, his hands still trapping hers.
Her cheeks turn red yet again, her mind trudging through a skew alleyway at his words. Hoping-- “Oh?”
“It’s a very small thing,” he says venturing his eyes back down to his plate and gently pulling his hands away.
Suddenly Rook is very aware of every inch of space between them, as forks clatter against plates, and the buzz of the generator buffers the heavy silence.
When the meal ends, Joseph clears the dishes out of the table, taking them to the small sink and then crouching in front of a cupboard, retrieving a small bag that he promptly places on the table.
“These are for you,” he says, voice almost wavering, as she finally realizes what he has in his hands.
A bag of chocolate cookies.
Rook can’t stop the annoying butterflies flitting in her stomach. For such a small gesture, it’s incredible the amount of things it’s stirring inside her. “Thanks, I uh-- where did you get them?”
“I found them while organizing the pantry,” he says smoothly, and Rook truly feels the pull of his charisma while looking at those captivating eyes in front of her. “I remembered you said-” he clears his throat, a fist in front of his lips, “I remember you said those were your favorite.”
She blinks, taking in the whole gesture. “Did I?”
Joseph nods, and Rook clutches the bag, swallowing a bit of the nostalgia choking her throat, memories clashing with reality. A small gesture at the other side of damnation, doesn’t quite taste the same and yet-- She can still see yonder, and have hope. With him. Because of him. “Thank you Joseph-- God, I love you.”
She instantly stiffs before throwing herself to reach the door over the loud clunk of her stool hitting the ground. But he is faster.
“What did you say?” Joseph asks, clasping her wrist and moving just to a few torturous inches from her.
Rook is exhausted. Of hiding it. Of nitpicking things about him to help her navigate their life together. “You heard me,” she says, chin held high, but unable to hide the hangdog expression on her face. Her next words gush out unbidden. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t look nonplussed or even rattled, the corner of his lips quirking in a tender smile. “Never be sorry, my dear,” Joseph says cupping her chin with calloused fingers, brushing her forehead with his. “I love you as well,” he whispers on her mouth.
Rook gapes at him for a short second, but she doesn’t have much time to go about the ifs and whatnots before he’s pressing his lips against hers. They’re soft and moist, eager and fervent in their caresses. His tongue is deftly and smooth against hers, tracing the seams of her mouth as his hands travel to her hips to draw her closer. Her heart quickens its pace, feeling his control tattering with every movement. His maddening taste blows open in her mouth and sweeps already threaded sentences off her mind, making her gut clench in anticipation when he pulls her closer.
“I love you so much, my dear,” Joseph finally says breathless, and it makes her chest swell with warm bliss, just realizing her arms are already laced around his neck. “You’re everything to me.”
“I- I didn’t--” She stutters finishing with a moan when he melds their lips again.
The kiss stretches for long seconds, a hot blush washing in a prickly wave from her cheeks down to her chest. Joseph is flush to her, one hand waved in the soft locks of her hair, the other at the small of her back and his erection pressing against her lower abdomen.
“Joseph I need- I--” She says, inhaling sharply.
He swallows audibly. “Come.”
They make the way to her cot in a silent rush, under flickering lights. Everything resumes when they fall on the bed, Rook straddled atop Joseph, hands exploring and roving over unfamiliar territories. He groans in her mouth, and grinds his hips against hers as the floor soon is strewn with discarded pieces of clothing and she can feel every inch of his bare skin in contact with hers.  
“I’ve been waiting for you, loving you, wanting you,” he rasps with hot breath against her neck, every word stressed with a searing kiss on her skin, “for a long time now, my love.”
He grounds her hips against his lap, her folds pressing against his cock. For a moment he lets her go, switching his position until his back is resting against the headboard. “Come,” he says reaching both hands towards her.
She lets out a shuddery breath when her fingertips brush against his palms. God, she wants him. Has she always wanted him? Perhaps, but it’s not something to consider right now.
She clambers into his lap, and kisses him as he slides his hands down her back, anchoring them at her hips. His fingers dig in her flesh a little when he grinds up against her. “Are you sure about this, my dear?”
“Yes,” Rook moans between kisses, goading him to keep nibbling at her collarbone, “please, yes--”
And just to show him her want, she raises up on her knees and takes his pulsing cock in her hand, the perfect, thick curve arching towards his belly. He gasps as she pumps him, reveling the small drops of pre-come oozing from the tip. Rook hovers over his lap, clasping his neck to hold him in place and pushes down. Her mind tumbles, overwhelmed with the tidal of emotions arrowing through her, and she shivers seeing his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open.
He moans, burrowing his face into her neck, but doesn’t move, allowing her to go as slow as she wants. Their gasps blend into the sweltering atmosphere once he’s fully seated inside her, and she’s taken aback by the raw emotion in his eyes, as he finally starts moving. Rook can feel his girth testing her limits, the stretch stinging a mite with every lazy downstroke, her cunt full and tight around him. She creases her brow and looks down, tracing the place where they’re joined together, sliding his fingers just where she stretches to accommodate him.
He looks at her face, gaze flitting between her eyes and her bottom lip, that she’s chewing in concentration. “I’m not hurting you? am I?” Joseph asks, his breath puffing against the line of her jaw, stilling inside her.
She smiles at him. “Not at all, you feel amazing.”
Rook sets a slow pace, but the little sounds Joseph makes every time she drops down, hips slapping against hips, are driving her to speed up. His moans are heartfelt, almost longing and she’s certainly touched by it. Leaning forward he catches her nipple in his mouth and she arches when he starts sucking hard, his beard scratching against her skin. Her heart thumps in her ears, as she goes faster and harder, now practically riding him among helpless moans and airy grunts Joseph makes every time he bottoms out.
She’s sure she’ll lose her mind. His hands grip her hips, and she’s sure her cheeks are flush hearing the rich wet sounds of his powerful thrusts. “Oh, my love--” Joseph says, words shadowed by a strangled moan, “you are exquisite.”
She's lost in his starry blue eyes, her mind shrouded by how good he feels inside her, and how his lips gingerly brush hers, his kisses reverent.
The familiar pleasure uncoils in her belly and her wailings bounce off the bedroom. “Oh, god, Joseph,” she says, “oh yes, please!” In other circumstances, she would’ve tried to tone down the high pitch of her voice, but they’re all alone. At the other side of tomorrow.
She feels Joseph clinging to her as the movement of his hips become more frantic and he buries a grunt in her sternum, bucking his hips against hers as he finally spills inside her.
They lay in each other’s arms, trying to regain their faltering breaths as she melts in his embrace, Joseph carding his fingers tenderly through her hair.
“We’re made for each other, darling,” he whispers in her ear, languorous caresses across her back, “it just took us the end of the world to find out.”
She smiles, drooping her head on his shoulder, thinking that maybe, just maybe, things can start anew.  At the end they have each other. They’ll be ok.
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afarcryfromreality · 5 years ago
Text
A Burning Sensation
A/N: This is my first fan-fiction ever! I probably won’t write another. Just scratching an itch. 
Warning: Violence & graphic descriptions
Rook was cruising down one of the main roads that snaked through Holland Valley when she spotted a telltale white van parked on the verge with two peggies attempting to hog-tie a rather distressed civilian.
“These bastards just don’t give up” She sighed.
It had been a week or two since Rook and John had battled it out in the skies, stray fighter bullets soaring through the atmosphere like lost shooting stars. The fight had ended when John’s plane crashed into the river. Rook parachuted to his rescue, ditching her own plane in the process. She’d managed to pull him from the wreckage before he drowned. She hoped sparing his life would play in her favour against the Seeds. Perhaps make them realise how close they had come to losing their little brother and maybe, just maybe, scare them into toning down their antics for a little while. Her message was clear when she hopped on the radio.
“Joseph, I’ve spared your brother on this occasion, but I’m more than happy to come back and finish the job if you or your siblings continue to commit crimes against the people of Hope County. He’s wallowing in his own self-pity on the river bank. I’ve set off a flare so you can find him. I’d hurry, not long left before he bleeds out.”
John could be heard coughing in the background, muttering about the world being on the brink, questioning Rook’s actions. She left soon after knowing every peggie in the area would be on route. Peggie activity had declined quite significantly since that day but it seemed not everyone had got the message.…
She slammed the breaks on and grabbed her handgun from the dashboard, launching herself out of the driver’s door and slamming it intensely. Rook charged up the road, approaching the two poorly-groomed men who were man-handling a young woman. She was crying out intensely, begging to be spared.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” Rook yelled, a scowl spreading across her face.
The men looked up at her. Initially confused. “Sinner!” one shouted, raising his assault rifle as he registered who she was.
Rook lifted her handgun and put a swift bullet between his eyes. His lifeless body dropped to the ground as the second man dove behind the van. She fired a couple shots at the van, just for fun really, and to scare that ugly-ass peggie shitless. As she continued to approach, the man broke his cover and attempted to fire a few shots of his own. One of Rook’s bullets quickly found itself embedded in his shoulder and soon enough he was the one crying out.
“Didn’t you get my message?” She asked, finally catching up to the whimpering man and towering over him.
“W-what message?” He asked, in between painful cries.
“This message.” She lifted her gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
By this point, the young woman had stopped crying and all that left her mouth were repeated words of thanks and praise. Rook removed the ropes from the young women’s wrists and ankles, helped her up and offered to drive her back to Fall’s End. However, the woman insisted the Deputy had done enough and instead chose to hop into the white van and take off.
“Thank you once again Deputy, you saved my life.” She said with great gratitude as she pulled away. Rook held up her hand as a sign of acknowledgement, smiling humbly as she made her way back to her truck.
All of a sudden, the loud and unmistakable sound of a gunshot from a high-calibre rifle rang in her ears. Rook’s leg trembled underneath her weight and she fell to the floor. A burning sensation took over, immense pain rushing up her leg. She screamed out an almighty “Fuck!” She managed to break her fall with her hands and knees, but rolled onto her shoulder to shift her weight off her injured leg. Rook looked down at her thigh and saw blood pouring out of a small, circular wound. She had been shot.
She pulled her gun from her holster and held it out to scan the surrounding area, looking for the assailant. Whoever it was she couldn’t see them. She was about 10 meters away from her truck which happened to be the nearest cover. Out in the open she was easy game. Thoughts raced through her mind.
Do I play dead? No... they know I’m not dead. Either they’re a shit sniper or they want me alive… Mother fucker.
She tried to stand but the agonising pain made her fall to the floor once again. She began crawling, wincing and grunting in pain. Once she got to the truck, she propped her back up against the side panel and struggled to pull open the driver’s door. It was only when she had succeeded that another shot was fired, this time narrowly missing her head. Again, the sound rang in her ears and she flinched harshly, ducking for cover under the truck. She looked around, looking for anything that could help her. It was then when she saw the trail of blood she had left behind. It had soaked a bold strip into the tarmac. She felt herself getting weaker by the minute but it was in her panic that she had a moment of clarity. She realised the bullets had come from one direction. One side of the truck was under fire but the other? That was out of the line of sight. She pulled herself out from underneath the truck on the passenger’s side, propping herself up against the door. She dared to look over the edge of door, desperately trying to spot who was shooting at her. Another bullet landed a few inches from her head. Again, she ducked down. She seemed confident that whoever it was they weren’t trying to kill her, but it wasn’t something she was about to bet her life on. She opened up the passenger door and grabbed her med kit, keenly getting to work on her leg. She focused her efforts on trying to stop the bleeding and wrapped every bandage she could find tightly around the wound.  
A few minutes had passed and the bleeding hadn’t stopped. The bandages were becoming saturated with blood quicker than she expected. It was then she heard an unnerving sound that made her heart drop. Footsteps. Getting louder and louder, closer and closer. She dove back under the truck in a desperate attempt to hide. There she lay on her back, under the bed of the truck with her feet facing the assailant, ready to kick out if need be.
Suddenly two large hands wrapped around her ankles and pulled her from underneath the truck in one quick but smooth motion. The sudden tug caused her top to ride up and her skin skidded against the tarmac. The burning sensation made her cry out as the tarmac removed her skin like a cheese grater. That, combined with the shooting pain coming from her leg from the sudden tug, made her almost forget she was about to come face to face with her pursuer.
Once her head emerged from underneath the truck the large hands grabbed at her top, scrunching some of the material to reinforce their grip and then slamming her against the tailgate of the truck. Her back arched over it slightly as she instinctively leaned back to get away from her attacker. Her leg felt like it was on fire as searing pain rushed up her leg – a consequence of being forced to stand on her wounded limb. An intimidating figure towered over her; a bright red sniper rifle strapped to the figure’s back.
“Deputy.” Smirked Jacob. “Got you good, didn’t I?”
Rook looked at him horrified, unsure what to say in her weakened state.
“You look surprised. Y’think I was just going to let what you did to John slide?” Jacob chuckled.
“Y’see Dep, I’d suggest you start praying ‘cause you’re going to be far worse off than John when I’m done with you.” He said with gritted teeth, a menaced, evil look washing over his face.
“Fuck you, asshole.” Spat Rook, her hand reached down for her gun, her fingers wrapped around the handle ready to lift it up.
“Bad move” Snarled Jacob as he released her and rammed his knee into her injured thigh with great force. Rook screamed out in agony, falling onto her hands and knees.
“Y-you sick F-“ She growled, looking over her shoulder as she looked up at him. She didn’t manage to finish her sentence before Jacob slammed the butt of his rifle into her head, knocking her out.
“Oh Deputy.” He chuckled “This is going to be fun.”
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grumpyhedgehogs · 6 years ago
Text
The Judgement of Petals
Summary: The Judge leaves flowers for various citizens of Hope County. Secrets are brought to light. 
Part 2: Here Part 3: Here
Notes:
I just love that the Judge will go pick flowers if your player is idle long enough. My sweet summer child. 
One important thing about this fic is that I went with the headcanon that nobody actually knows for sure that it’s Dep behind the mask, but some people have suspicions. Because you can’t tell me that Grace and Sharky and the Ryes wouldn’t go in guns blazing to get Dep back. 
Also: SPOILERS! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE GAME. (Also, I just kinda handpicked the parts of all the endings that I felt went with the story. Ah, the powers of fic writing.)
@sadyeehawmp3 asked me to tag them, so here you go! Hope you enjoy and angst and fluff!
“They speak only one language- that of violence.”
~
The Father
After it was all over- the twins dead, Hope County saved, the Father neutralized- after everything, the Captain wasn’t surprised to find the Judge had simply disappeared into thin air. They had knelt next to Joseph for a long time at the end; Captain could hear their sobs but couldn’t tell whether they were of sorrow or relief- but they did speak of some unknowable grief. Captain had turned away, paced a few yards, and left them to it. They deserved to collect their thoughts, if only for a moment.
When the Captain turned back, arm already up to gesture that they could both return to Hope County, that they were both free from whatever hell they had fallen into, the Judge was gone. In their wake, they had left three small purple flowers. They were cut too early, barely blooming, and speckled with dirt and ash. They looked bedraggled and flattened, as if the Judge had smothered them into their coat for safekeeping- which they probably did.
The Captain recognized them as petunias.
They were left there, to rot or to burn with the body of the Father. The Captain had a vague hope that the wind would carry the petals away before the flames reached them.
~
Jerome
It had been three or four weeks since the end of the conflict, and to Jerome it seemed as if he was even busier than before the war with the Highwaymen ended. He was needed from one end of the county to another, day in and day out, working to help refugees, go on supply runs, shore up defenses, provide faith and council to the hopeless- whatever the people needed, Jerome was determined to provide.
But he was hesitant more so now than ever to call these people his flock. He’d been burned one too many times he supposed. It never helped to get too attached to many in a place such as their world.
These thoughts, these anxieties-what if something else happens? One thing after another, who’s to say there won’t come someone else- someone worse that Joseph Seed and the Twins put together, we never catch a break do we- combined with the storm brewing that night had him wide awake. He sat quietly watching the rain lash at the muddied yard beyond his porch. There was a fire dying in the grate behind him- he could hear the fading crackles of the last bits of wood. Soon it would just be embers.
He must have been more tired than he realized- maybe the rain or the dying fire had lulled him into a doze, maybe he had been sleepwalking and had only dreamed that he had gotten up, maybe this was still a dream- he couldn't settle on a believable explanation for not seeing who left the bouquet on the top step of his porch.
Jerome jolted in his seat, heart pounding hard enough to break his ribs. The rain had gotten even worse now, mixing with the dark to make a gloom that was impenetrable. There was no way he could catch whoever had done it.
He approached cautiously, thoughts of Faith Seed flickering behind his eyes, but none of the blossoms on the worn wooden floorboards looked a thing like the Bliss.
The bouquet was obviously made by an amateur; the blooms weren’t full- some of them were too young or too old, there were torn petals and browning edges, most of the flowers looked like they’d been drowned in all the rain, and pollen blurted out onto the toe of his boot when he went to nudge them. It was all held together with a rough piece of twine, threaded with another unknown purple flower.
Jerome bent closer, hand on his holster, afraid to inhale in case he did in fact have another Faith on his hands. But he recognized irises when he saw them. Bluebells -the low hanging flowers missing a few blossoms, as if they were pulled off the stem hastily- were there too.
It wasn’t until he showed Nana the bouquet later the next (same? Jerome really needed to catch up on his sleep) morning that he found out the two flowers he didn’t know were called bittersweet and magnolias. The one in the twine was verbana.
“What does it mean?” He asked her, rubbing the back of his scalp irritably. He was unused to feeling flustered by plants.
“Means someone out there thinks very highly of you son,” Nana quipped flippantly. “Magnolia and bittersweet, those are nobility and truth, respectively, ya see, and bluebells are humility. Verbana’s a strange inclusion though- usually means ‘pray for me.’ Guess they know you’re a pastor. But the iris, now that’s the interesting one.”
“It is? Why?”
She tipped her head back, blew out a big breath and pushed her glasses up her sweaty nose. The storm had blown away in the early hours and now Jerome could already feel a sunburn starting across the tops of his shoulders. “Means a couple a things, depending on who gives em- faith, hope, those are probably the meanings this one’s going for. Wisdom and valor, too, I suppose. If somebody you know gave ‘em to you they can mean that your friendship means a lot too. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Nobody,” Jerome hastened to answer. He shook his head in bewilderment, staring at the wilting flowers in his palm. Something deep in his gut flickered with warmth. There was a nagging at the back of his mind. “I didn’t see who left it.”
“Hm,” Nana rejoined. She shrugged. “Captain said the Judge left flowers for the Father at the end. Petunias.”
“You think the Judge is giving out bouquets?” Jerome couldn’t really wrap his head around such an imposing figure slogging through the storm in the middle of the night to give him flowers. But there were rumors…
Nick had said that when he saw their eyes there was something familiar-
“You see anybody else picking flowers these days?” She had a point there. “Besides, if it is the Judge, they think a hell of a lot more of you than the Father.”
“Wh- that’s not true. They loved the Father. They followed him everywhere. Captain said they grieved when he died.”
Nana’s glare was so sharp and hot he had to drop his eyes. “They cried all right- lots of reasons for people to cry, and not any of them very good these days. But the flowers say something different about those two than your image of their relationship, Jerome. Petunias- they’re something you leave an enemy. Most of the time, at least. Anger, resentment- only good thing they mean is not losing hope.”
Jerome didn’t have anything to say to that. Nana huffed and walked away from him, shaking her head.
In the next few weeks he was on high alert; every crack of a twig and patter of rain outside his door was greeted with attentive eyes. If it was the Judge- if what Nick thought was true-
But he never saw anyone.
(He kept the flowers until they browned and cracked and crumbled away.)
~
Kim
Kim had already talked about the petunias with the Captain- they had seemed agitated, upset ever since the Judge disappeared after they helped take down Joseph. Kim wasn’t sure what surprised her more; that the Judge really turned on the Father they loved so much, or that the Captain was so torn up about them leaving without saying goodbye.
Nana had also let slip that Jerome had received an odd gift from out of the blue a week ago, but she hadn’t thought much of it. Jerome was an attractive man and a compassionate one at that- it wouldn’t surprise her if he had more than a few admirers around Hope County.  
Her flowers showed up on the kitchen table in the early morning.
Kim had been the first one awake; that in and of itself was a startling feat, given that Carmina was wont to be up at the “ass-crack of dawn” as her father put it. She’d decided to have an actual breakfast ready for her daughter and husband today; no cereal bars or stale bread crap for them today.
The kitchen was cool and welcoming in the soft morning light. Kim loved this time of day; everything seemed quiet and peaceful. The world was for the taking and Kim wasn’t going to waste the chance.
She’d opened the back door, propped the screen ajar to get some nice air flow and gone into the pantry to check their stores. Her fringe brushed into her eyes. As Kim lifted an absent hand to stroke the strands out of the way, she heard that faulty floorboard two feet inside the back door creak.
She froze.
There was silence. Her fingers twitched to her gun. Birds were singing outside the window.
There was a rustle of fabric. Kim pulled her gun. It caught on the calluses of her palms, slipping in her sweat. Should she call out to Nick? Take whoever it was on her own? How much time did she have?
There was another shuffle. The same floorboard creaked. She breathed in, breathed out.
“Hands up,” she shouted, twisting around the corner, gun up, trigger finger itchy. Kim only caught a glimpse of the tails of a long coat whipping out of sight around the screen door.
There was a thump from upstairs, feet on the landing. “Mom?”
It took Kim a second to see the bouquet. It sat innocently before her chair at the table. The twine was tied in a lopsided bow.
The confusion Nana had mentioned Jerome expressed suddenly started to make sense.
“I’m fine honey,” Kim called back while holstering her weapon tentatively, knowing that wouldn’t assuage Carmina’s worries in the slightest. “Just- thought I saw somebody. It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
She had to take a few more minutes to calm her daughter down enough to go back to resting, but once she did, Kim snatched up the bundle. Just like Nana had mentioned with Jerome’s flowers, not a single Bliss blossom was in sight. They were all flowers Kim knew were native to Hope County, all ones Carmina herself had picked for her mother when she was little.
There was a book on flowers somewhere on their bookshelf; Kim remembered thinking it could tell them about which ones were good to eat before promptly forgetting it was there when she put it down.
She found it after a few minutes of scrambling, in which she tried to be as quiet as possible for the house’s sleeping occupants. It was old and dusty, pages yellowed and crinkled with water damage. It took even longer to find all the right flowers inside.
Camomile she recognized from the front of the box of tea; apparently they were for relaxation now, but the old meaning was “energy in the face of adversity.” Some 19th century bullshit.
Red poppies, like the ones that grew outside their home, meant “remembrance.” (Something twisted in Kim’s chest.)
Blue violets meant “faithfulness” or “watchfulness”; the book suggested that the sender was either saying they would watch out for the receiver until death, or that the sender believed that the receiver was a symbol of faithfulness. White zinnia was supposedly for “goodness,” and white heather meant “protection.”
But the last blooms, the ones that it took Kim the longest to define, were purple hyacinths.
“Pleading for forgiveness,” Kim murmured aloud, and the knot in her chest moved to her throat.
She showed Nick the bouquet; he’d already heard from Nana who the old woman thought was giving out flowers and Kim knew who Nick thought the Judge was. She didn’t say anything, just slid him the book across the breakfast table after Carmina had blown out the door to “get shit done.”
He sat silently for a few minutes but Kim knew when he got to the hyacinths. Nick shoved the text away, pushed his hat back on his head and placed his face in worn hands. Kim couldn’t think to say anything- what was there to say that would make this better? She just sat with her husband, held him around the shoulders, and stared at the crudely put together gesture on the table. The flowers were as ragged as Nana had mentioned Jerome’s were. The twine was obviously pulled off of a larger rope. It looked like a child had made it.
(Kim put it in a vase on her bedside table and woke every morning for the next week afraid it would be gone when she looked over. She didn't want to think what they’d do once the flowers died.)
~
Hurk
Blade showed up holding a bouquet out to his father with a note declaiming Hurk as the recipient. His son and cousin had been down at the river, hoping to catch something edible and not canned to eat for dinner. When Hurk jerked around to stare accusingly at Sharky, he simply shook his head.
“Kid went to take a piss in the woods and says he stopped to draw some shit in the dirt or something. Said a nice stranger from the trees gave him that and a cool stick to play with.”
“You think it was the Judge?” Hurk asked uneasily. If Blade’s mother found out how near to the Judge their son had been, he would be in deep shit.
Sharky’s face was uncharacteristically stony. “Kid said they didn’t say nothin’.”
“Nick says- do you really think it could be them?”
Sharky paused before he shrugged. The Dep was always a rough topic with him, just like they were with Nick: talking about a man’s only friend who died horribly did that.
“It was a pretty cool stick,” Sharky admitted.
Hurk gulped and nodded. He pried the flowers gently out of his son’s hand and dropped a kiss on the top of Blade’s head. Sharky motioned to Blade to help him get the fish he had thrown over his shoulder to the kitchens. Hurk held out a hand to stop him.
“How am I supposed to know what the fuck any of these mean? Kim said they might be important but I know fuck all about flowers, man.”
Sharky smirked a little and nodded at the note with Hurk’s name on it. “Think they made it easy on you, idiot.”
Hurk scowled at his cousin but flipped open the note, which was really a piece of notebook paper folded in half. He hardly registered Sharky herding Blade away once he stared matching the names and descriptions to the petals.
The handwriting was sloppy and jagged, trailing off and leaving punctures through the paper in places as if the person writing wasn’t used to holding a pen. Hurk read it all anyway. And then he read it again, just in case he missed something. His stomach was sinking.
Red tulip- Loyalty. Weird start, but okay. He guessed he was pretty loyal to his family.
Daffodils- New beginnings. Was the Judge talking about Blade? Probably. Hurk hadn’t exactly been quiet about his excitement about being a father.
Red Gladiolus- Strength, integrity. What the hell did integrity mean again?  
Buttercups- childishness. Which, okay, that was fair he guessed.
Coreopsis- Always cheerful. Hurk swallowed thickly at that: Dep had liked him for his sense of humor.
Red/Yellow Zinnia- In memory of an absent friend.
That one threw him for a loop. Who was missing? A lot of people these days, but Hurk flashed on how torn up Kim Rye had seemed that day she muttered something about her own flowers dying, how Jerome had seemed pale for weeks, how Sharky and Nick were unable to speak from anger when they saw the Captain with that stupid old deputy outfit they’d found and donned on a lark. Yeah, okay. Maybe Hope County was missing someone pretty damn important.
The bouquet itself wasn’t tied with anything but a few other flowers; these were long stemmed yellow flowers, keeping in theme with the colors of the bouquet itself. Hurk flipped the paper over and found one last line down at the bottom of the page like he wasn’t really supposed to find it.
Rue- Regret, sorrow, repentance. You were a good friend.
“Well,” Hurk said aloud. He was hoarse; it hurt to speak. “Fuck.”
He stopped thinking Sharky and Nick were crazy after that.
He kept Blade close the next few days because while he missed them something awful like hell was he gonna let his son anywhere near somebody who’d been brainwashed for years on end by Joseph fucking Seed. That didn’t mean that he didn’t try to look out for anybody living in the woods. Sometimes Hurk thought he saw somebody moving on the edges of his vision when he was out there, but there was no one whenever he turned.
(He kept the flowers on the windowsill- he couldn’t take care of them for shit and his throat felt tight every time he realized that the only thing he had left of his friend would die in a day or two, but he just- he wanted them to know. To see. He is loyal, damn it. He is.)
~
Sharky
The Dep and Sharky were good friends. They were best friends.
He didn’t feel at all put-off that he hadn’t received a bunch of stupid flowers from the Judge. Nope. Nuh-uh. They didn’t even know that the Judge and Dep were the same person, really. The Judge could just be some weirdo in a mask with personal space issues. He didn't care if he didn’t get a bunch of plants from some stalker psycho killer. Zero jealousy here. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
“Oh fuck yeah!” Sharky pumped his fist in the air when he saw the stupid not at all long awaited bouquet sitting on the hood of his truck. The same notebook paper as Hurk’s bunch lay folded underneath the plants, so that the hot metal was buffered from melting the petals too easily. The heat wave was continuing, though, and the flowers were already looking more than a little worse for wear. He snapped them up eagerly and shoved his way into the truck before he allowed himself to read it. His hands were shaking.
His name- Charlemagne Victor Boshaw IV, not his nickname- was printed sloppily on the outside. (They remembered how to spell my name!)
On the inside, his note looked pretty much like Hurk’s.
Morning Glory- affection. Don’t make any jokes.
White clover- Thinking of you. Seriously, no jokes.
Purple Carnation- changeable, whimsical.  His mood swings weren’t that bad, come on.
Baby’s Breath- purity of heart. Okay, that one wasn’t really true.
Azalea- Take care of yourself for me. NOT that way.
Viscaria- Invitation to dance. We disco-ed pretty good, huh?
Then, at the bottom, it was signed with a shaky smiley face. It looked like they’d tried to cross it out a few times, but he could still make it out.
Hurk had told him about his note, and there was still at least one flower he didn’t know the name of. His heart beat too fast in his mouth. This part was gonna suck.
Sure enough, there were three more lines on the back.
Aloe- grief.
Love-lies-bleeding- hopelessness.
Don’t try to find me, friend. Please.
“Oh, like hell,” Sharky snarled at the paper. He crumpled it in his overeager grip, but just as quickly smoothed it back out. His friend- his only friend.
They weren’t dead.
“Hang on in there, Dep,” Sharky muttered, starting up the truck. The engine whined, rumbled, and turned over. He’d have to take a detour; Nick Rye would want to know about this.
He’d keep looking however fucking long it took. The Dep couldn’t honestly expect to reappear having obviously been fucked up by Joseph Seed for years, turn on the fucker at the last second and then get away with just sending fucking flowers, could they? They couldn't really think he’d leave them out in the cold without putting up a good Goddamn fight.
“You just hang on in there, buddy. We’re gonna getcha home safe.”
(He kept the flowers in a loop of the same twine that tied them together hanging from his rear view mirror. They dried and crumpled in on themselves in record time, but he didn't mind. When they started to lose their smell Sharky dug out an old air-freshener from the glove box. It was all good.)
~
Grace
Grace had Nana explain her flowers to her when they came.
She knew that she might get some; hell, if Hurk radioed in to say he got a bouquet she sure as shit better get one if the Judge really was who they thought they were. God, this would all be a lot easier if the Judge could talk. If Grace could see. If the world hadn't gone to hell in a handbasket.
“If, if, if.” She had no time for “if” these days.
The flowers smelled pungent; they must have picked the ones they did so she could find them in the dark. They were on her window ledge when she woke up in the morning. Grace was less worried about the Judge wandering around her land in the dark of the night than she thought she'd be. (she still closed the window.)
Nana took her hands and placed her fingers on the petals as she explained them. Grace kept her touch as delicate as she could; she could imagine it was almost as if she were touching the Dep’s face instead of dying vegetation this way.
Who knew being blind bred loneliness?
“Black-eyed susans,” Nana helped Grace finger the thin, long petals, soft like silk. “They’re bright yellow, in pretty good shape. The Judge is getting better at picking flowers.”
“What do they mean?”
“For you? Justice, most likely. Now these next, with the wide petals? Those are geraniums, pinkish-white, they mean determination, or refinement I guess, but I think it’s the former. These layered ones are chrysanthemums, white and purple, so let’s see, that’d be...truth and honesty.”
“This is-” Grace felt the next stem, her fingernail accidentally slicing into it. “Isn’t this a dandelion? I can feel the- the fluffy bit.”
Nana snorted a laugh. “Yes ma’am it is. They mean overcoming hardship.”
Grace’s mouth went dry. God damn them. They could still get to her, and they didn’t even have to give a rousing speech to do it this time.
Where the hell were they?
“What’s this tying it together, Nana? It’s not rope.” whatever it was, there were crinkles in it like the Judge (Dep?) had tried to do something fancy with it but gave up halfway through. The knot itself was double or triple tied. It was probably cutting into the stems too much. Grace guessed the Judge moved around a lot on a daily basis; they probably wanted to make sure the bunch all stayed together.
“That’s ivy, dear. Feel the leaves? Don’t worry, I’ll bet the Judge made sure it wasn’t the poisonous type. It’s got some wormwood woven in, too. That’s the pokey bits.”
“Why ivy? Why wormwood?”
Nana sighed softly. “Ivy means endurance, faithfulness. It’s good for you, kiddo. But wormwood-”
Grace had heard from Jerome that not all the flowers were- she’d heard about this part. “What?”
“It means absence and bitter sorrow. The absolute worst kind, you know? The kind you don’t really come back from.”
Damn it. Damn them.
“I don’t believe them,” Grace decided suddenly. She wanted to slam the flowers down, to run away from this- how dare they put this on her? How could they just say something like this and not face the consequences?
(Her heart was squeezing too tight, wrung out like a sponge. How could they not come to me?)
“Kid-”
“No, I don’t believe it.” Grace thinned her lips, narrowed unseeing eyes towards where she knew the breeze came in the open window. She hoped they saw her. “I can't believe that. They’re coming back. By God, I'll drag them back kicking and screaming if I have to.”
(She took apart the bouquet carefully and kept everything- ivy, wormwood and all. She dried the flowers and put them all in separate books on her shelf for safe keeping. They’d stay there until she could figure out how to catch the idiot and smack some sense into them. Maybe the flowers would still stay after that. Maybe always.)
~
Nick
Nick didn’t care how long it took. He didn't care who thought he was right, who thought he was wrong, or who thought he was crazy. He’d known from the start, from the day the bombs dropped, from the day that the Dep took care of them when Carmina was coming. He knew the Dep was gonna survive. If anyone could make it through hell and back with a funny one-liner and a lopsided grin, it’d be the Dep.
He’d seen them when they were following the Captain through the countryside a few times. Something about the way they held their bow, shifted their feet, deliberated silently whenever they took a shot- it was familiar. At first Nick thought maybe he was remembering Jess Black but that wasn’t it. Actually, he didn't start putting it together until he unsuccessfully tried to get the Judge to talk to him outside his home.
The Captain had been busy and left the Judge standing awkwardly by the porch. Nick had offered them a seat, nervous around someone with no discernable eyes, but was met with silence.
That was the first clue.
“Hey, you all right in there?” He’d ventured uneasily. The Judge (the Deputy, it was Dep, he knew they couldn’t be dead, the tough son of a bitch!) hadn’t answered, simply tipped their head in just the right way and-
“Holy shit,” Nick could remember exclaiming. The Judge had shuffled back a step and he’d scrambled to recover. “Sorry, I- you remind me of-”
He never got to finish, though, because the Judge had veritably sprinted across the camp to where the Captain was beckoning for them. They’d been careful not to come near the Ryes ever since. Nick wasn’t sure how to take that.
Sure, he knew, but Nick sure as hell didn't know what to do about the fact that he knew. Everyone else- even Kim- didn’t seem to understand. They thought it was wishful thinking.
But Nick knew. He knew.
So when he caught the Judge stealthily sneaking a bunch of flowers into his barn, he didn't yell or attack.
“Ya know, you could just come in for a beer, man.” He leaned against the doorjamb, trying to appear casual. The Dep had always been skittish, and that was before a madman had locked them in with him for seven years.
The Judge whirled so fast he winced in sympathy for their back. The flowers scattered a few petals. Nick raised his hands in alarm; the Judge was panting- nearly wheezing- behind their mask.
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.” He wondered if he should step inside. The Judge was darting looks over their shoulder to the nearest exit. Nick would either have to get real good at negotiation real fast, or he’d lose his only chance. “Heard you were making house calls, thought I’d check it out for myself.”
They didn’t seem pleased with that. They took two steps to the right and one back. Nick tried to step forward, but only succeeded in making the Judge leap back so far they slammed into the opposite wall. “Hey, hey, no worries, man, I’m not gonna hurt you- stop!”
They lunged to the side, towards the open barn door and Nick hurtled forward too, catching them around the elbow.
“Hey, stop okay- I know that’s you, Dep!” They stilled for only a moment, but Nick thought- stupidly, maybe- that he’d won. “It’s okay, you can come in now. It’s over- you and Cap killed Seed-”
The Judge turned and shoved him back with the hand holding the bouquet. Nick probably could have done more to stop them, but between the fact that he didn’t actually want to cause violence, and the fact that the Judge took his free hand and curled it over the flowers, he was left standing stupidly gaping, in an empty barn as they ran.
Nick Rye was never one to take shit lying down though, and he was hot on the Dep’s heels a second later. (Maybe chasing them around Hope County didn’t say “hey, it’s super safe now and I promise I won’t hurt you like the crazy guy you were locked up with for years on end,” but he was flying by the seat of his pants here.)
They’d cleared half of the yard by the time he was done tripping over his own feet, but Nick was gaining fast, and the Dep still had a fence to clear before the woodline started.
“Dep,” He screamed; his lungs felt like they were about to give out. He really was getting old. “Goddamnit Dep, stop running!”
They did not stop running.
The dirt was dry and cracked in the yard but the grass was still dewy from early that morning, and Nick saw them slip a little when they got to the fence. The entrance was actually on the other side of the barn but they probably didn’t think they could cut around the barn fast enough to get away. He could have caught them from a side entrance to the barn if they’d done that. Dep had always been too smart for their own good.
Nick lurched forward, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, unsure of whether he was lunging to help Dep up or excited that their slip gave him a few seconds to catch up and make them stay.
But the Judge righted themselves easily and flung a hand out in his direction. Nick was lower to the ground, hand out already to try to help them up, and the dirt that flew out of their palm struck him square in the face.
“Augh!”
He twisted sideways, lost his footing and slammed his shoulder hard into the ground. It was the first time the Judge (or Dep) had ever done something to harm him.
“Fucking hell, Dep,” He called, ignoring how raw his throat felt. Dust coated his tongue. “Christ, would you just listen?”
The fence jangled. Boots hit the ground. They were getting away.
He managed to regain his sight after a moment, although tears trailed down his temples. He was having a hard time not coughing up a lung. But when he raised his head feebly, the Judge hadn't disappeared into the darkness of the forest. They were standing stock still, head tilted to that same fucking angle as always, watching him through the fence.
For a long moment, they held each other’s eyes. Nick’s shoulder ached something awful.
Finally, his hip and knee told him they wouldn’t stand being dug into the dirt any longer. He rolled over onto all fours and slowly, painfully, hauled himself up.
“That was a shitty trick, man.”
The Judge shifted on their feet, took a step back. They let out a concerned grunt. Nick decided to think it was concerned, anyway. He chuckled lightly and dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Nah, I’m good. Just the joints- they don’t work exactly like they used to, is all.”
The Judge took another step back and joined their hands together at their middle, making sharp, small movements with them. It took a second for it to register with Nick.
“Aw hell, don’t get so worried,” Nick reassured them, rubbing the back of his neck. It was never easy dealing with a nervous Dep. “Ya didn’t hurt me- stop wringing your hands man, you’re freakin’ me out.”
Another grunt. The Judge gestured to the house.
Nick perked up. “Hey, yeah, I’ll go in- but you gotta come with me, okay?”
They shook their head so vigorously there was an audibly crack. Another step back, and they pointed to the ground, then Nick and finally themselves.
“I’m tellin’ you, you didn’t hurt me. You can come in, Dep. You can come on home.”
The noise they let out was as close to a wail as anything Nick had ever heard; it bubbled forth from somewhere deep and warbled in the air. The pitch grew and grew for agonizing moments before the Judge dropped their head in their hands, shaking, and cut themselves off.
It was the worst thing he’d ever heard.
“Hey,” he soothed quietly, shifting forward an inch. He held out his hands, palms out, and tried to make himself as non threatening as possible. “Hey, it’s okay, see? You’re oka-”
The Dep jerked their head up towards him and Nick froze. He was still holding the bedraggled remains of his flowers in his dirt covered right hand. They seemed to zero in on the torn blossoms, and they let out a low-pitched sob behind that damn mask. Their hands clutched the sides of their head for a moment, squeezing violently.
Then the Judge turned and sprinted for the forest. They were gone in seconds.
“Shit.” He muttered, pulling his cap off and running his hand through his hair. “Fuck. Shit. I fucked that up.”
Kim was kind enough to only glare a little when he presented the torn up blossoms and grumbled out the details. She thumped the book down in his lap and stormed off to the kitchen. That was fair enough he guessed.
Nick wrote the meanings out this time- he knew Kim hated that her flowers had died months ago. He’d caught her flipping through the book just to read the same descriptions over and over again. She did it when she couldn't sleep.
Myrtle meant love or affection, and peonies wished the receiving party a happy marriage or life. Snowdrops meant hope. Bells of Ireland, which took him forever to find, were meant to tell him good luck in life. Pine needles, which were threaded through the stems, could mean either hope or pity. Nick hoped it wasn't the latter.
The last flower was something called a rainflower. It didn't look very intimidating, but Nick’s throat still closed when he read the description.
Rainflower- often taken to mean “I must atone for my sins, I will never forget you.”
“Goddamnit Dep.” He pushed shaking fingers through his hair again and tugged, letting the burning in his scalp turn his thoughts from the burning in his eyes. “Why can't you just, for once, let someone help you?”
(He put the flowers in the same vase Kim had- she hadn't moved it from their bedside table. Maybe she’d been waiting for his turn. Maybe she’d just been hoping that if the vase stayed, the Dep would have to come back and give them more flowers to fill it. Nick knew that’s what he’d been naive enough to wish for.)
~
Carmina
Carmina found them paying unexpected respects at Rush’s grave. There had not been any sightings of them, hide nor hair, since her father tried to convince them to come back.
They were still wearing that thick, furred coat even in the heat. Summer was in full swing. She worried about heat stroke.
(Heat stroke wouldn't matter if she couldn’t get them to listen. They’d die of exposure or bears or starvation if they didn’t quit this stupid running schtick.)
“Deputy,” Carmina called softly, letting her footfalls sound louder than they usually did. She wasn't eager to get shot full of arrows because the person her parents told her so much about got jumpy.
The Deputy was standing over Rush’s grave silently in the fading light. She couldn’t see their hands- they were standing with their arms held in front of them, maybe clasping their hands. She didn’t know if they ever prayed.
They stiffened at her voice but didn’t turn. They didn’t run.
“Deputy, we all know that’s you in there.” She inched forward cautiously, as if the person in front of her was the scared child, not her. They shook their head and made a rasping groan of denial.
“Yes, you are.” Carmina admonished gently. “You’re not the Judge. You’re not anything he made you.”
The Deputy looked at her then and Carmina’s heart clenched tight. Their mask was covered in grime, caked in dirt and blood. There were cracks and fissure in the material (was it wood? Plastic? She could never get close enough to tell). Their neck was stained with what was either tear-tracks or sweat. Maybe both. Their jacket was spattered with gore and stank to high heaven- the Dep probably hadn’t bathed in at least a few days, simply hunting and foraging and picking flowers instead. They were holding a few lilies- flowers for a grave.
One of the lenses in the mask was missing. Through the hole it created Carmina could finally see one bright eye. It blinked at her. The Deputy shook their head.
“He’s gone,” Carmina stepped even closer. They didn’t move. She risked a hand on their bicep; she could feel them trembling. “It’s over. You made sure of that.”
With her other hand, Carmina pressed the bunch of flowers she’d brought into the Deputy’s palms.
“Rose leaves say you can hope,” Carmina explained gently- unneeded, to be sure, but she had the idea that if she stopped talking the Dep might just book it. “And tea roses say we’ll never forget you. Stock, for the bonds of affection and to remind you you’ll always be with us. Star of Bethlehem for “reconciliation.” White jasmine for “sweet love,” and goldenrod for “encouragement.” And finally-”
She pulled one stem from the rest and reached to tuck it, safe and sound, into the hood and behind the Deputy’s ear. “White daisies: for rebirth.”
The Deputy moaned quietly and dropped their head. Their shoulders quaked as they sobbed weakly behind the mask. Carmina held them lightly, carefully, against her shoulder. She turned her head to speak directly into their ear. “It’s okay now, Dep. It’s time to come in from the cold. It’s time to come home.”
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farcryfuckmeup · 6 years ago
Text
I Can’t Live With Myself
so uh turns out i posted this on my archive but i never did here, so here’s a jacob thing i did a while ago for all you tumblr kids :) this was a request done by @hopecountylovin​ (sorry if i did post this and im retagging you, my tumblr shows i didnt and im a confused noodle)
My masterlist has all my other drabbles, requests, headcanons and matchups
JACOB SEED X FEM DEP: soft jacob seed x f!deputy in a bunker after the collapse ft. hurt/comfort TW: SOME PTSD, MINOR VIOLENCE
---
The day the world ended was one the Deputy had never expected to come, and if it had, she assumed she would have long passed from this Earth. Scientists talked about the Sun dying far in the future and extinction that had wiped out 95% of all life on Earth 250 million years ago. Both of those events were so far from the current point in time that it was hard to imagine what the world would have been like if it ended again. If the universe decided to push it’s own “reset” button.
She’d often think on the things she’d do differently if she’d known the sky would catch on fire, a bright blue replaced by searing orange and smoke. Would she have spent it with her friends? Would she have visited her parents one last time?
Four years ago she hated the Project. She hated how violent they were, how they forced people to join them. But most of all she’d hated the Seeds. All four of them. John’s ego had irritated her endlessly, Faith acted like a child most of the time. Deputy had never been fond of religion so it irked her how preachy Joseph was, but it was easy to ignore. Jacob, on the other hand, was almost a mix of all three. He had a temper that was either slow to burn or quick to blow. He was confident in his abilities to the point he thought he couldn’t be bested. All he talked about was his stupid mantra. Train, Hunt, Kill, Sacrifice. Cull the Herd. Cull the Weak. Over and over and over.
Now everything was different. Jacob had saved the deputy when the Collapse had arrived. She’d been injured and he’d carried her to safety. Despite his beliefs, which would’ve told him to let the deputy die, he’d risked his life to save her. Dep had stopped trying to kill him on account of that, but she’d kept her shitty comments coming. Over time though, the hatred began to ebb. She no longer thought he was a monster. Just a person trying to save the world the best he knew how.
The guilt had crept up on her. Frequent thoughts of loved ones had turned infrequent. Her passive attitude towards the Project had turned into a participant one. She went to sermons Jacob held, she trained. Hell, she’d even follow him around so that she could learn from him. They’d started to share an unspoken bond. They respected each other beyond comprehension.
Deputy was plagued by night terrors, especially as of late. They varied from the deaths of her friends and family to the deaths of the Seeds. Her own demise was a recurring topic, too.
Suddenly, she was being shaken, and her knee-jerk reaction was to survive. A fair amount of cultists had stumbled across a sleeping Deputy while she had been resting around Hope County. This wasn’t going to be her first time fighting someone off while she was still waking up.
“Deputy, stand down. I said…stand…down.” Her hands were around someone’s throat, but her brain wouldn’t process the face in front of her so she could identify it. She was practically feral. Hands were gripping her forearms, trying to pry her off, so she squeezed tighter with a snarl on her lips.
Then her eyes found a sea of blue, the skin around it peppered with burn scars and pockmarks. She froze, no longer squeezing the man’s throat but unable to let go either.
“Oh my god.”
“Let go of my neck. Now, Deputy.” Jacob’s voice was quiet but demanding.
“I’m…I’m so sorry.” Her fingers hesitantly unwound themselves from Jacob’s throat, then clasped each other as tightly as possible. “It was-I was-I didn’t mean to.”
“The world was going to implode on itself sooner or later.” His voice was gruff with sleep, but also probably from nearly being suffocated.
“I just…I think I did the right thing. I want to do the right thing now. I-I-you say you’ve forgiven me but I can’t forgive myself. I don’t know if I did the right thing anymore and I don’t understand.” Dep’s voice shook as she explained her nightmares yet again. Jacob had started asking about them when they had started keeping not only him but some of the other followers awake as well.
Dep lifted her eyes to look at Jacob, and it was only then she’d realized that Jacob wasn’t in his usual attire. She’d seen him in different versions of it, but he always wore his camo jacket, a t-shirt, jeans, and boots. But right now he was in a red tank-top and sweatpants. There were more scars and the like along his arms, some disappearing under the fabric of his shirt and onto his chest.
“I’ve had ‘nough of this, pup. C’mon.” His gaze softened a bit as what she said processed in his head. He couldn’t dispute her claims that she was in the wrong, he couldn’t assure her she’d done the right thing. To him, she hadn’t. She’d gone against Joseph, who often radioed Jacob to ask about the flock and the deputy. But Jacob had started to see over the years that what had happened wasn’t unforgivable. That the Deputy deserved a chance to redeem herself. So he tried to help calm her down whenever he felt it was warranted.
Jacob wrapped his hand around the deputy’s arm, pulling her from her bedroom. It was only a few doors down from Jacob’s which would explain how he’d known she was having another nightmare. She must’ve been screaming again. Some of the cultists had been complaining about it, saying that they were screams only a sinner could scream. Jacob would give them a stern glare, one he’d even broken the arm of.
“Where are we going?” She asked as she let Jacob pull her. Her voice was still a bit shaky, the images from her dream burned into the back of her eyelids.
“To get some half-decent sleep.” He mumbled, his other hand running through his hair before he shoved open his own bedroom door.
The deputy had never been in it before, but she was taken aback. It matched Jacob perfectly, but the layout had clearly been designed by John. The furniture was either made of wood or steel, sometimes even both. It was simplistic, but there were some minor details that didn’t sit right with the deputy. Like the antlers with Bliss flowers above the doorway. She doubted Jacob was fond of it either.
“Go on.” Jacob gently pushed the deputy towards his wooden-framed bed. In any other situation, she probably would’ve blushed. Every so often, Dep would go turn into an unraveled mess. Jacob would give her something to do to distract her, but if it was really bad, he’d order his followers to leave whatever room they were in and just sit in silence with her.
Dep climbed onto Jacob’s bed with trepidation, but her knees sunk into the memory foam, so she struggled a bit. He pulled back the covers as he got in himself, and the deputy rested her head on one of two pillows. Jacob took the other one.
They’d never been this close before. A hand on her shoulder here, a touch to his elbow there. The most intimate thing he’d done was put his hand on the small of her back when one of the members of the flock was insulting the deputy. She’d been on the verge of breaking down with guilt until she’d felt his hand through her shirt.
Jacob and Dep were both laying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. They were close enough to feel each others’ body heat from under the blankets. Being around him had helped calm her, just like it always did. As she’d started to drift back off to sleep, the deputy felt Jacob’s calloused fingers curl around her own.
She didn’t know how long they’d slept, as time often was distorted when there was no sun or moon to tell the time of day. When she awoke, however, her body was warm. Almost too warm, but it was comfortable.
Dep tried to roll over as she often did in her sleep and when she woke up, but she was stuck. She was curled into a ball, and a pair of arms were wrapped around her. One was on the back of her head and the other was around her waist, holding her to their chest.
She didn’t need to open her eyes to realize who it was. He smelled familiar. He felt familiar. The Deputy shifted again to get comfier, and couldn’t help but smile to herself as Jacob held her.
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