#it's me i'm the one that hit jacob in the face with a shovel in my playthrough

[general-kalani]

Oh she was so precious when she was worried.

"I'm fine, Panther... 'M fine... Don't worry 'bout me yet, how's my rifle? Not dented is she?" A little grin spread on his face, somehow he'd managed to lift his head up a little and open his eyes more.

Maybe he should start saying prayers to God.

If the laboured breathing is anything to go by at least. "Y'know it takes more than just some bullets to kill me." Or a shovel.

Where the fuck did the Deputy get so many shovels from? It was definitely going to be one of the things he was banning... His head was swimming after the first casual whack of that shovel.

"I uh... Ain't gon' walk much... Might have'ta carry me. Hope yer fine with that."

{ @rxdhairxdsirxns SO THAT STARTER RIGHT- }

... Was that crying? And a hand in his own? He recognised the little name at least of Jake.

Brows furrowed as he groaned. Trying to get a sense on his bearings again. Sense of at least direction. A quiet groan as he opened his eyes and saw that bright red.

Well he knew who it was now.

"Stop whimperin'... 'M fine just a few bullet holes." Fuck did it hurt though. He was surprised he hadn't straight up bled out at this point before Taryn had gotten to him.

Probably just blind luck.

"That Deputy didn't hurtcha 'gain did they?" How he wanted to get up, raise his hands to her face and kiss her all over to let her know he truly was fine.

As he was now? He could barely open his eyes, let alone let his hand close in on hers.

Why's it all gotta hurt so fucking much? He'd been in the Army and yet this was some of the worst pain he'd experienced thus far in his life.

[theprojectatedensgate]

Can you write some hurt/comfort Jacob/dep based on 45. “It’s okay to cry.” please? I'm not feeling well lately and I'd love some cheer up...

Of course you can, The project has best wishes for you. Have some soft and stubborn Jacob.

“It’s okay to cry.”

The Farmer and the Old Mule

Jacob’s faced burnt as he cried hot tears against his pillow. His muffled sobs vibrating the fabirc against his lips. He felt weak. The strong didn’t cry, they punished the weak for showing such emotion. Shame and self loathing nestled into his mind, drawing more sobs from the hurt and scarred man. It was all too much, even after burying himself in his work and training, that didn’t stop the memories, the things he committed, the sacrifices he witnessed. The images of Miller broken and bloodied, crying out for mercy flashed in front of his eyes, his gut bundling up with nausea. Jacob was disgusted with himself, he cut down anyone who showed an emotion like this, and now he had fallen to it himself. Weak.There was a soft knock his door. Causing him to tense and silence his weeps. He growled at being disturbed and straightened up, glancing in the mirror examining his puffy red eyes.  With a snarl he yanked the door open, looking down to see the Deputy, smiling back at him. Their face quickly dropped as the flickered over his expression, Jacob sighed and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge. Rook followed suit, shutting the door behing them.“Have you been crying?”They knew it was risky to ask, Jacob was the very epitome of apathy and any sign of emotion would quickly be replaced with anger. They remained hopeful, however. Jacob looked up scowling at them, taking the combat knife from his night table and running his fingers along the blade.“ Crying is weak.”Rook swallowed, gingerly making their way towards the bed.“That’s not what I asked.”Jacob narrowed his eyes, tossing his knife, jumping up from his bed and squaring up to them. The action caused them to stumble backwards, walking away from him as he drew close.“ I don’t give a shit if that’s what you asked, that’s all I’m giving you.”Angry again. But they weren’t going to give up on him, Jacob was only human and despite what preached about the weak versus the strong, he still had feelings and problems that needed to be addressed. They were so focused on Jacob’s cold stare, illuminated in the late noon sun, they jumped when their back hit the wall, he had them pinned now, not with a weapon or his hands but with his sheer size and heated gaze.“Jacob…”They reached out gentle palm to cup his face, their thumb feeling every scar and mark on his skin. His eyes fluttered closed at their touch, reaching a paw up to grip at their arm. A single tear released from his eye, running over Rook’s hand, they brushed it away, reaching their other arm to join him.“It’s okay to cry.”Jacob lost all control, falling onto the Deputy with an embrace, his head buried in the crook of their neck as he sobbed, soaking their shirt. Rook ran a soft hand up and down his back, pressing him into them. They hushed him quietly, almost rocking him in comfort.“What’s happened, Jake?”“My emotions got the better of me. I am weak.”His voice was a grumble, buzzing against their shoulder, sorrow sunk in their chest at his words, struggling to hold their own tears back.“To cry is not to be weak. It is strong to face these emotions head on, not avoid them at all costs. You feel this way for a reason Jake, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”He moved away from their neck, saddened blue eyes scanning over their face, he took their hand, tiny in his. And pulled them towards his bed, pushing them down onto before laying beside them. They wrapped their arms around him, his head nestling into their chest as the tears flowed, listening to their heart beat.“Did I ever tell you story, of the Old mule and his farmer?”Jacob looked up at them bewildered, shaking his head.“Would you like to hear it?”Jacob nodded, settling his head back down on their chest, their fingers ran circles of his back and arms.

“There was once was an Old mule, who fell into the farmer’s well.  The mule wept with sorrow and the Farmer heard his cries. He walked to his well, peering over to see the Old mule, trapped at the bottom. The farmer looked for a way out, before accepting that there wasn’t one, he decided to end the Old Mules misery.  He started to shovel soil into the well, asking for forgiveness as the Old Mule cried, begging to be saved. But the Old mule was clever and noticed that each drop of soil and earth that fell onto his back, could be shaken off and climbed upon. Bit by bit, the Old mule, battered and exhausted, made it to the top of the well, climbing out and returning to the safety of his pasture. It was a miracle, and the farmer fell to his knee’s thanking God for his help. See what should have buried the Old Mule, helped him rise from the hole. Whatever happens that may bury us, that may consume all we know, we can survive it and use it to escape.”

Jacob sat up and lent on his side, looking the Deputy in the eyes, his tears had dried and a gentle smile graced him.“Am I the Old Mule?”The Deputy, grinned, giggling at his question.“Well, I didn’t mean you were old but…”Jacob frowned at them, reaching his fingers to brace the back of their head. He pulled them into him, pressing his lips against theirs, rough but affectionate. Rook’s hands ventured to his cheeks, pulling him back in to them. They drew away for a breath, fluttering their lashes at him. He ran a calloused thumb along their jaw, shaking his head.

“I love you.”

Thank you for requesting! Enjoy!