#joseph x male deputy

[killyourrdarlingss]

Magma sketches and ofc I gotta draw these guys

[imgnnafurgf]

Farcry5 where everything is the same but it's just Seeds really pissed off because deputy is taller than all of them and every time they just get more creative how to look taller

Faith would fly

Jacob stands on a box on his presentation time

Joseph never gets off the stage

John learns how to wear high heels

[roadkillxd]

I know I haven't posted in a while and suddenly I'm posting a new (to this blog) fandom but... woe, Far Cry 5 smut be upon ye.

Jacob Seed x M!Deputy (Isaac) x Joseph Seed ↪ 1031 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male dominant top Jacob, cis male submissive switch Deputy, cis male dominant bottom Joseph, mention of John Seed x Deputy, mention of drugging, mention of suicide, dubious consent, pseudo-inc*st (only because Joseph's making it weird), Christian cults, unsafe sex, oral sex, rimming, claiming, anal fingering, and anal sex.

Joseph lay beneath him, hair loosened from its usual knot and spread out on the pillow like the facsimile of a halo. Isaac knelt above him, hands braced on either side of the Father’s head, nails digging into the bed sheets as Jacob’s thick weight pressed to his back, too wet mouth sucking and biting marks along his spine as the older Seed ground his denim clad cock against Isaac’s bare ass. 

Isaac thought, briefly, if someone had told him this would be the result of killing John Seed, he’d have eaten a bullet before he was given the chance to try, Hope County be damned. He barely remembers the words Joseph spoke to him as he came out of the bliss haze, knelt between the Father’s legs.

"You are so much like him, in more than just your sin,” Joseph speaks softly, petting through matted hair as Isaac rests his head against the Father's knee, "John was steeped in sin, and while I sought to save him, to bring him unto New Eden, as Jesus had vouched for the thief, perhaps this was God's plan all along. To have my brother return to me in a new vessel, to live through you after his death, with a soul, not free of sin, but with still the hope of cleansing it." 

Joseph's arm was reached down beneath Isaac, his thin bicep flexing with the movement of his arm. Isaac could feel his hard cock rubbing against Joseph's forearm, and though he couldn't see it, he knew he was smearing his precum across the tattooed visage of Joseph's dead wife. The thought made him whine pathetically just as Jacob, now kneeling further down the bed behind Isaac, licked a wet line across Isaac's hole, his large calloused hands squeezing the supple meat of his ass.

"Ssshh," Joseph cooed quietly, his free hand reaching up to cup Isaac's cheek, guiding him down into a chaste kiss, murmuring against his lips, "my sweet baby brother."

Isaac gasped, his cock pulsing, feeling like he could choke on nothing, feeling the vibrations of Jacob's rumbling laugh against his hole as the eldest Seed continued his oral assault, sloppy with spit but precise, almost practiced, in the movements. 

“Do you wish to penetrate me, Isaac?” Joseph murmured, lips soft against Isaac’s jawline. 

“Fuc–mngh,” Isaac groaned as Joseph bit down hard on the hinge of his jaw, just as Jacob pushed two thick fingers into his dripping hole, “anything—whatever you want, just—please.”

Isaac gasped at the lube wet hand that grasped his cock, moaning weakly at the realization Joseph had been fingering himself open this entire time, voice catching in his throat as Joseph led his cock downward, lifting his hips ever so slightly to tease the tip against his twitching heat. Isaac couldn’t help how his hips humped forward like a feral dog at the first sign of a wet hole to fuck, Jacob simultaneously brutalizing his prostate with the rough pads of his fingers. 

Joseph’s mouth fell open, baring his neck as he pressed his head back into the pillow. 

“Joseph—” Isaac moans, collapsing onto his elbows to mouth at the pale expanse of the man’s throat, his thrusts shallow and sharp, Joseph’s hand coming up to tangle in the younger’s hair.

“We’ve got you,” Jacob rumbles as his fingers slip free with a wet squelch, once again blanketing Isaac’s back with his weight, the rough shock of his voice making Isaac shudder, “gonna take good care of you.”

Jacob all but shoves his thick cock into Isaac, causing him to keen at the stretch, knocking him forward and pushing the length of his own prick deeper into Joseph. 

“That’s it,” Joseph breathes, voice steady even in this moment, his hand painfully tight in Isaac’s hair as their eyes meet, “you are perfect for us.”

Isaac whines, nodding as he presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses to Joseph’s lips, licking desperately into the other man’s mouth like a sick mutt as Jacob begins a steady pace, hips slapping loudly against Isaac’s ass.

Joseph turns his head away, teeth gritted to try and escape the mess of Isaac’s tongue. When Isaac tries to follow the movement, Joseph slaps him, gripping painfully tight at Isaac’s chin to glare at the younger. 

“Filthy,” he growls before locking eyes with his older brother over Isaac’s shoulder, “take him.”

Jacob grunts, wrapping one arm over Isaac’s torso to haul him back, his cock somehow reaching even deeper in this position. Jacob’s other hand grabs Isaac’s jaw, turning the younger’s head to meet him in a messy kiss, rumbling pleasantly when Isaac sucks on his tongue needily. 

“How does he feel?” Joseph asks, breathlessly, ever so gently rolling his hips down to meet the jostling thrusts of Jacob pumping into Isaac. 

“Fuck,” Jacob groans as Isaac clenches tight around him, giving a low chuckle when Joseph chides him for his language, “feels like heaven.”

“Blasphemous…” Joseph grumbles with narrowed eyes, earning a raspy laugh from Jacob that cuts off into a gravelly groan as Jacob suddenly goes from slow and deep to fast and shallow thrusts, pumping his hips like a jack rabbit. 

Isaac cries out, clawing at Jacob’s arms as his hips stutter forward and back, caught between pressing back onto the fat cock penetrating him, or pushing forward into the wet heat engulfing his own weeping prick. 

Isaac fumbles to wrap a hand around Joseph’s cock as his own orgasm draws close, but is stopped by a hand to his wrist, rosary beads digging into the jutting bone. 

“Take your own pleasure first,” Joseph murmurs.

Jacob rumbles against Isaac’s spine, nibbling at the lobe of his ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, and then he’s gonna take his turn. Mark you from the inside,” Jacob rasps, “make you ours.”

“We’ll fill you with our essence,” Joseph whispers, grip firm on the nape of Isaac’s neck as he hauls him back down, foreheads pressed together, “as you did to John… as you let him do to you.”

Memories wash over him, and Isaac feels sick as his orgasm hits him like a wave, eyes rolling back as he pants into Joseph’s mouth.

[gxmergurl]

I also honestly love how the peak Lucas and Joseph dynamic is "Don't you dare threaten my husband even though he is more than capable of handling himself in any danger" and I think that's beautiful

[seedofjoseph]

patroclus' funeral pyre

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Relationship: Jacob Seed x M!Reader

Rating: E (explicit)

Words: 1000

@necrodancing666: I was just wondering if you were willing to do a Jacob/male reader who gets unalived somehow by the deputy (maybe saving him/taking a bullet for him) and Jacob just goes full-on feral and slowly stops listening to Joseph

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord t–"

"Nah," Jacob Seed shook his wearied head. "I don't wanna hear nothing from God tonight," he swallowed the sob threatening to spill out. "I wanna hear from you, Joseph."

He sniffed and swapped his sleeve – your jacket's sleeve – under his nose. Another lump was launched into his throat at the thought of your scent fading from your uniform and his mind. And that day could be the very next, the full moon already outshining the dying embers of your funeral pyre. 

"Then listen to me when I say this," Joseph Seed sought out his eyes, but found them closed. "I know your pain," he sighed, an almost human sound coming out of God's mouthpiece. "I know it intimately," he stroked the fading face of his late wife. "And I know it was all part of His plan–"

Jacob's jaw squeezed shut, suppressing another sob before he unhinged it to bark at his brother: "That's not what you said when he was alive," his voice was as vicious as that of a wounded beast. "That's not what you said to his face," he closed his eyes around the memory of your smile – the most beautiful he's ever seen – on the night of your wedding. 

Joseph had come up the mountain to preside over the small but no less sacred ceremony himself, and even shut up God to welcome you into his family as a brother-in-law, and not his child. On that night, and every night after, you were Jacob's Chosen One, not just another soldier. 

On that night, your husband carried you off to bed in his arms. You reminded him that you weren't a child, despite the decades between the two of you. You also drew his attention to his bad back, and how the heavy weight of your body was a strain on it. But he simply stretched it, cracked it, and bowed it before you. His knees snapped as he did so, but that didn't stop him from taking off your boots before slowly stripping you. From that position, he laid praise, pressing kisses on your thick thighs and your soft stomach. 

Nothing made you weaker than his coarse fingers fondling you, but nothing made you stronger than his words of praise. And nothing was more sinful than preparing himself with your precum, but nothing was more sacred than him stretching your insides.

That night, you watched him cry for the first time as you worshiped his wounds, old and new. That night, you saw through his scarred skin and into his welled-up eyes. And you knew Jacob Seed beyond the brutality he bandaged himself with. 

Since that night, you were his Chosen One. Wherever Jacob Seed went, you followed like a shadow. Whenever he had to swing his sword, you'd do his will like a red right hand. And when the junior deputy came to drag him to Hell with her, you shielded him from his faith with your own body. 

Jacob Seed was fully sobbing now, slamming the balcony doors shut, and sealing himself from the smell of your burning corpse. "You said the Gates of Eden were open to him, that he'd walk through them with or without me."

He fully faced him now, in the dim light of his desk lamp. "I was meant to be your sacrifice, not him. It was never meant to be him. It was only ever me. The deputy," he was laughing now, as bitter as the epiphany he was experiencing. "Your chosen one? Yeah, your Chosen One was meant to sacrifice me."

"You are not my sacrifice," Joseph raised his voice, rousing from the chair. "You never were my sacrifice. I've already made mine," he looked up towards the ceiling, crying out. "My Faith–"

"She's rollin' in her goddamn grave," Jacob spit out. 

"What?" Joseph's voice cracked, his eyes now returning from the heavens back to earth. "What did you–"

"You heard me," his own voice was as steady as ever. "And she hears you goin' 'round callin' other women by her name."

His trigger hand was fidgeting. "Brother–"

"Oh, so I'm your brother now? I wasn't your brother when I asked for the deputy. You made me ask God for forgiveness for that one."

"Jacob," he gritted his teeth and grabbed his trigger hand with the other. "Brother, I can't give her to you. She is not yours to take."

"And why's that? God change his mind 'bout her faith, too?"

"You’re mourning," he answered, solemnly. "Your pain has blinded you," he unclenched his fist, and relaxed. "When you open your eyes in the morning, you’ll see things as clearly as I do."

“Nah," the widower shook his wearied head again. "I see 'em right now," he sniffed the collar of your jacket and grounded himself in his grief. "Clear as day," He opened the balcony doors, then, the office doors: "Good night, sleep tight and get the fuck off my mountain."

"Good night, Jacob," his brother retained his composure even as he got the door slammed behind him.

That night, he let himself be weak. He let himself sink into your jacket, into your pillow. He let himself inhale the smoke from your funeral pyre and choke on his own cries. And, that night, celebrated your life by playing the memory of you back in his mind, behind his wet eyes. 

His memory of your eyes looking up into his, and they pooled with tears of joy instead of misery. While he was weak in the knees, you were strong as you got down on yours, choking on his cock. And you didn’t give up until your drool and his cum foamed around the rim of your mouth. That night, his spit-slick hand couldn’t even come close to the tightness of your throat. 

And on that night, he had a vision of his own. He saw you looking down on him from the heavens as he burned through the Bliss fields in search of your murderer. He saw you lighting his way through Holland Valley like the sun, leading him to her. And he saw you smiling at the sight of Joseph howling over her corpse, as he had over yours.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

[direwombat]

direwombat's fic masterlist

decided to go ahead and pull together a quick masterlist of my fic since not everything is in the same spot. will do my best to keep this up to date lol

far cry 5

jacob seed x female rook [nonspecific deputy]

fragile creatures (on collision with our judgment day) | M | currently on haitus (rip)

claim me, oh claim me | E 🔞🔞🔞| a/b/o au smut

oc: deputy sybille la roux

a room with a view | E 🔞🔞🔞| AO3, tumblr | sybille enjoys her view from jacob's room at the veterans center

the howling | M | AO3, tumblr | witch syb x werewolf jacob supernatural au

wrapped (not in linen or lace, but leather) | E | AO3, tumblr | syb gets railed while wearing a collar.

until it takes | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3 , tumblr | jakesyb + breeding kink

paperwork | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3, tumblr | jacob catches sybille snooping through his files. he punishes her accordingly.

prompt fill | T | jacob and sybille share a moment after their battle

prompt fill | M 🔞🔞 | jacob and sybille have a little wrestle in the woods

prompt fill | M 🔞🔞 | Caress to the cheek after a moment together + jakesyb

prompt fill | M | Chin lift to make you look directly at their eyes that just make you follow aimlessly and without much force really. (bonus if they kiss afterward) + jakesyb

prompt fill | E 🔞🔞🔞 | sybille surrenders herself to jacob

prompt fill | T | ⛑ - Some tender first-aid + sybjoey

prompt fill | T | 💤 A few extra hours of sleep and ✋ A hand carding gently through their hair + jakesyb

fc 5 polycule au

run rabbit, run | M 🔞🔞 | jacob seed and kit cross hunt their prey through the woods

oc: augustine la roux

a mouth full of praise | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3, tumblr | joseph seed x cultist!original male character

general

confiteor | T | AO3, tumblr | in the wake of john's death, sybille goes to joseph to confess.

uncharted

oc: paola orsini

wine drunk | T |

prompt fill | Gen | paola has dinner with rafe

party favor | Gen | done for oc kiss week

[werewolfrookie]

Fanfic idea

Single dad au where Joseph has moved to Hope County with jacob and John to raise his daughter and meets single dad deputy

[havingsomemorejohnlarks]

“with your mouth on mine, there's less bullshit coming out of it.“ For a ship of your choice :)

Okie Dokie :)

Randomly selected Seed: Rook Diamond x Joseph Seed!

(Btw, if you are wondering why I never do Rook Diamond x Faith Seed, it’s because he is gay, but I’m always up for writing some friend stuff for them - I have so many ideas about that one 🤣)

(Remember, sexual themes and some strong language, folks)

It had been three weeks.

Three. Whole. Weeks.

How much more of this torture could he take? It was painful. It was slow. It was everlasting. How strong was his will? John had said he was full of will and tenacity. But this… this was his undoing. This, he supposed, was the ultimate test.

When Joseph said that God tested people, he wasn’t kidding.

God must be testing Rook. He didn’t fucking believe in God, but something out there must be testing him. He wished he could contact his Spirit Guide.

Torturous. So torturous. Did he have to spend seven years in this fucking bunker with this fucking shirtless guy spouting utter bullshit?

Rook groaned loudly. “Please, shut up.” He elongated every syllable, so that finally Joseph shut his mouth, stopping his long, dull rant about sin.

The younger man looked up from beyond his cradle of arms, to catch Joseph scrunching his eyes up in irritation. He clearly does not like being interrupted.

Well, tough. Rook did not like being preached at by dollar store versions of his Moms priest. No matter how annoyingly attractive they were.

As stated before, it had been three weeks since the bombs went off. Three weeks since ‘The Collapse’. And three weeks since the start of the two men’s long, long, long, long journey together underneath the earth. At this point, they were both starting to get seriously ticked off with each other.

Joseph’s insecurity and uncertainty about how things had turned out were at a all time high, which meant he was continuously praying out loud, and preaching into the metal box of Dutch’s bunker, as if he were trying to contact all his followers that were left alone beyond it. As a result of this, Rook had been getting way more snippy, and had to constantly restrain himself from punching the wall, let alone Joseph. The former-Deputy’s snide comments and witty remarks (despite internally promising that he would be more empathetic of Joseph’s situation) had, paradoxically, only encouraged Joseph to be more aggressive and pervasive.

By the second week, the preacher had taken it upon himself to wake Rook every morning with loud sermons about Sloth. In retaliation, Rook kept Joseph’s stomach churning at almost compulsory mealtimes (the best shitty, dog-food-tasting canned grub that the Bunker could offer) by giving explicitly detailed accounts of his very intimate, sexual affair with a Preachers son back home.

By the third week, it was war. Joseph had taken to dragging Rook out of his room (yes, they had dedicated rooms now - a little bit of normalcy, at least) and into the main ‘living room’ to preach to him about sin, specifically now Lust and Sloth. If Rook tried to protest, Joseph would use the ‘You killed my brothers and sister’ Card, and the younger man would become docile, pressing his lips shut, clearly feeling guilty. Rook had not, as of yet, come up with a perfect form of revenge for this, but it certainly kept him entertained at night, plotting ways to annoy the ever-loving shit out of Joseph.

It was during one of these happy little meetings in which Rook had had enough.

He literally couldn’t take it anymore. All this fighting was getting exhausting, and Rook had a strong loathing for people who made him feel guilty for being human.

Now, Joseph eyes stared disapprovingly, as Rook sat up properly from his bored, slouched, banana-shaped form.

Rook glared right back at him. He wasn’t taking this shit anymore. “What’s that look for? You think I want to be here?! Because I really don’t, you know.”

The older man sighed, irritated. “You need to hear this, child. You need to know about the dangers of Lust and the way it corrupts your sou-”

Rook threw his head back, up to the ceiling, dramatically, and groaned even louder than before, so that Joseph, once again, shut up with a huff.

“Seriously, what is the point of this?! Please tell me this isn’t a deranged, culty version of The Talk. I have to say, Father, my real parents beat you to it about 15 years ago.”

Rook faltered for a moment, accidentally dampening his own momentum with the thought of his family, back in New York. He buried his emotions deep down, ready to deal with them and cry about it late at night, when he thought Joseph couldn’t hear or see. He thought wrong.

The preacher snarled, aggravated by what he saw as childish nonsense. He lost his patience, and his temper.

That’s how it started.

Joseph’s arm whipped out, grabbing Rook by the collar of his t-shirt and drawing him close to his face. Rook was momentarily choked again. This time, literally. Joseph snarled into the younger man’s face, suddenly on the same side of the table, gripping the base of his throat and the side of his face, to keep him from moving or looking away.

Rook’s breath hitched slightly. As much as he fucking hated it, his body grew a little warmer all over, and he could not play it off as embarrassment. He had made a pact not to lie to himself. He bit his lip and internally smacked himself.

He couldn’t help it. An older, attractive man gripping his throat was basically one of his first wet dreams. And Joseph was so close…

He smothered down any possible sexual feelings as quickly as possible.

Not now. Not now. Not. Now.

He kept his teeth gritted together, as Joseph seethed in a slow, menacing purr: “Heed my words, child. Nothing good or pure will come of Lust clouding your judgement.”

Rook barely managed a sarcastic laugh, while certain… parts of his body twitched. “Fucking is how you make babies.” He stated, matter-of-factly, purposely annoying.

The preacher growled, and shook the younger man’s collar, threateningly. “Stop with that ungodly crudeness. It won’t get you anywhere.”

The former-Deputy bared his teeth. “You sure? Will it get you to shut up?”

A sudden pause in the verbal stand-off came washing over them both. Joseph was taking a moment to find the right words. Rook was taking a moment to enjoy the scenery. His body only got hotter.

Rook found his gaze flickering to Joseph’s lips. There was something about them. He hated that mouth. He hated the words that came out. He hated the expressions that were displayed. But he loved to look at them. And look at them, he certainly had.

No lying to himself, remember? He made a pact.

An idea popped into the forefront of his mind. One that had been brewing since he had first saw the other man and had only grown stronger the longer he stole glances. The idea had grown taller, as he heard that voice of Joseph’s grow louder.

The idea burned so brightly in his brain, that he couldn’t help the soft snarl that came out next: “With your mouth on mine, there’s less bullshit coming from it.”

The older man’s eyes widened, and, immediately, he glanced down at Rook’s own mouth, the lips slightly parted, a tongue slightly poking out, as it licked quickly over the skin there.

The air between them became heavier, with this idea laying leisurely around in the atmosphere. Their faces became closer and closer, as they accidentally leaned into each other, almost like something was pushing them from behind and pulling them together.

When their faces were only inches apart, they stopped. Another stand still.

Their breath exchanged as they both breathed heavily, and it felt more intimate than anything else they had ever experienced, especially Rook.

Which was weird because that affair with the Preachers son was intense as fuck.

Nothing compared to this. Any small drizzle of an electrical current was absolutely fucking nothing compared to this. It felt like sparks were everywhere, it felt like the whole bunker was going to explode, it felt the second Collapse was coming.

It was Rook that lunged forward. His arms shot up to wrap around Joseph’s neck, his body pressing forward and up, so that they were both standing up-right. Joseph quickly put his hands on Rook’s waist, accommodating for the sudden ‘attack’.

The kiss was passionate, and wild. Full of tension, and hateful, yet affectionate, clashes of mouths.

Rook hadn’t felt this good in a long time. He hadn’t felt this drive to be close for so long. Well, if it was new for Rook, for Joseph, it was practically revolutionary. He almost never struggled with Lust. He had had it crossed from his body so quickly. Now, it was all coming in a rush. And, suddenly, this kiss was not enough.

It wasn’t enough. They both wanted more. They needed more contact, more movement, more clashes of skin.

Surprisingly, it was Joseph that started to move this time. Without breaking this kiss, he urgently guided Rook to the couch behind him, pushing at his hips, insistently. And Rook went ever-so-willingly.

Rook expected Joseph to shove him down, but, instead, he gently twisted them round so that Joseph could sit on the couch, and pull Rook on top of him, letting him spread his legs to accommodate Joseph’s thighs.

Yeah, this felt good. This felt right. The kiss slowed down, but their hands sped up, touching and pushing at different parts of each other’s bodies.

Finally, he shut the fuck up.

Joseph let out a quiet moan, as Rook gently squeezed his thigh. In retaliation, Joseph slipped his hands down the back of Rook’s camo cargo pants, dragging his hands along new territory. That caused a sudden, almost involuntary jolt of the hips forward from Rook.

Things only got more competitive from there.

Once again, they were at war.

And you were lecturing me on Lust, Joseph Seed? he thought.

[butterdoggo13]

Art of my Deputy, Abraham and Joseph Seed.

[johnseedfanclub]

Angel: You know John..I gotta say. You have been staring at me a lot lately

John: What?

Angel: I just curious...You like what you see *slaps his thigh* y’kno~ ;)

John: W- You- I WOULD NE- ABSOLUTELY NOT

Angel: And I’m the one that’s g a y here

John: I SAID N O.

[killyourrdarlingss]

Character Interview - Dennis Dustin Monroe

tysm to @henbased for tagging me in this !! did it take forever ? absolutely! but, it was so, so worth it. and of course I chose Jacob because he can actually get info out of Dennis lol.

This is written in a much simpler style, very just one line, action, etc, or else this would have been 10k and honestly i just dont have the energy-- so script style ? kinda.  

(formatting broke please look at this work on my actual blog/desktop site for proper format, no idea how to fix this but it looks BAD on mobile, if anyone does lmk) 

TW for extremely negative views, past mentions of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking, blood.

Dennis is called in by Jacob for a chat and definitely isn’t an intimidation technique of any kind since Joseph's taken a liking to Dennis.

 Nah, definitely not. 

-

-

“State your name.” 

He falters, tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, looks anywhere but Jacob’s eyes. 

  “It’s Dennis.”

  “Full name.” 

“Dennis Dustin Monroe.” a pause,

 “I really hate it though, if i’m honest… and seems like if I’m staying down here, I should be.” 

A scoff, or a laugh, a chuckle? Dennis doesn’t think too much into it. 

“Relationship status.” not asked like a question, Dennis observes.

  “Single..? I…” 

  “Really?” 

  Dennis has to bite back a comment. 

“And you're happy with that, I’m guessing?” he doesn't look amused, he just leans back a bit, exhales like Dennis is boring him.

“Being single or just in general? because it’s complicated.” 

  a pause, “for both.”

“Do you have a smoke, or something–” 

  He feels like he’s choking. 

“Are you happy?”

  Dennis bites at a hangnail, 

  “I don’t think so.” 

Jacob nods, the chair creaks under him.

  “You’re angry?” 

  “Yeah.” 

  “At what, what are you mad at?” 

He rips the hangnail from his finger, spits it away from Jacob on the floor and sucks at the blood forming.

  “Who knows.” 

Jacob’s foot taps on the floor, Dennis’ eyes shoot up, 

  “Myself–” Dennis doesn’t feel like talking but he does, his eyes are watering and Jacob’s unmoving like a stone, 

He blinks once,

  “I wish it was me.” 

Jacob doesn't prod, hums under his breath.

  “Let's move on.”

Dennis looks away.

“Your family, parents, are they married?”

  “Technically? No.” 

  “Explain.”

  “N-” Dennis chokes, coughs, his eyes water more, tears down his cheeks– he feels vulnerable. 

  More than before.

“No.” he picks at the bloody nail and moves his eyes down to the floor, 

  “I don't want to do this.”

“You will.”

  “You scare me.” 

  Jacob laughs.

“Where were you born?”

Dennis wipes the now cold tear from his face.

  “I was born in Montana actually.” 

“Are you lying?” 

  “Yeah.” 

Dennis smiles, emotionless.

  “Next.”

“I’m assuming your hair isn’t naturally green.”

  “You’re pretty smart.” 

Jacob clears his throat, Dennis jolts,

  “Brown.” 

“Your eyes are…” Jacob leans in, Dennis swallows, 

  “Hm,” there’s a smirk on his face, 

“Weird I know, I get it a lot”

  Jacob stares, grabs his chin and looks closer. 

Dennis stays stiff as a board, 

  “Brown on the left, blue on the right.”

  Dennis pulls his face away, it's his turn to clear his throat, 

“Next.”

  “You can't be older than John.” 

  “I think I know what the next question is,” 

“When you were born.”

  Dennis nods, 

  “September twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty four.” 

  “Hm.” Jacob relaxes only a bit, “You're turning forty soon.”

  “Don't remind  me.”

“Current mood?”

  “Worse now that you’ve reminded me.”

“Nothing wrong with it.”

  “I think I wasted my life.”

  “You still have time.”

“Next.”

  “You're a man, I’m assuming.”

  Dennis laughs.

“John wrote these.” Jacob looks over at a paper on a small table beside them, 

“Summer or winter, morning or afternoon.”

  “Summer, and night.” 

  They both nod. 

A laugh, it should break the tension, it doesn’t. 

  “Are you in love, Mr. Monroe?”

  “Hah–” 

Dennis feels the air break up a little bit, he still wishes he had a smoke,

  “Would it make it all easier if I was?”  

Jacob looks like he’s actually thinking but says nothing.

  “So, single, not in love, angry at the world?” 

  “Just your type then?”

  Jacob laughs a bit louder, 

“Did you end your last relationship?”

  “I've ended all of them.” 

“Don't feel bad- breaking their hearts like that?”

  Dennis sounds proud, 

  “Nah.”

“Nobody good enough?”

  “Could say that.” Dennis smirks, “only ever liked this one guy so I thought about it.”

  “Thought about?” 

  “Something longer, love maybe. Maybe I just liked his face.”

It’s Jacob’s turn to say it, 

  “Alright, next.” 

Dennis nods,

   “Can I smoke now?” 

  “Bad habit.” but Jacob hands one to him regardless, 

  “A light?”

  “Not yet.”

  Dennis puts it between his lips regardless.

“Big on physical contact?” Jacob leans his head in his hand, “Don’t seem like the type.”

  “Depends.”

  “Hugged anyone recently?”

  Dennis goes quiet, 

“Maybe.” he smiles.

  “John has stupid questions.” Jacob bites as he reads the paper, throwing the blame.

“‘Do you have a secret admirer–’ really.” 

  “Yeah you–” Dennis looks up and sees the annoyance burning in his eyes and shuts his mouth, 

  “Next question.”

  The tension is back, 

“Broke many hearts, how about your own?” 

  Dennis has to think about it, bites around the filter, 

  “Next question.” 

“You need to answer,”

  “Light this if I answer?” 

  Jacob nods, “Go on.”

  Dennis holds out the cig, 

  “The answer’s no.”

Jacob flashes his teeth as the tip of the smoke begins to burn.

  They both settle.

“The next questions are quick.”

  “Good.”

  “Lemonade or iced tea?”

  “Really?”

  Jacobs foot taps, Dennis breathes smoke in, 

  “Okay, lemonade.”

“Cats or dogs.”

  “Dogs” 

Exhales the smoke, 

  “That makes sense.”

  “Really- What if I lied?” 

  Takes another drag, Jacob digs in his pocket for his own smoke,

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Dennis grins, all teeth, 

  “You’re right.”

“Many friends or just one good one?”

  “Neither.”

  He hears a lighter click, 

  “I agree.” 

The tensions replaced by nicotine, Dennis feels looser, 

  Jacob scoffs, 

  “A Romantic night doesn't suit you.”

  “And, you know me so well, what's the question?” he can't help but laugh, 

  “-Or a wild night out.” 

  “Ah.”

  Jacob hums. 

  “Maybe I just need to try it– romance.” 

  Jacob breathes out, takes another drag, 

  “Maybe.” 

  Dennis doesn’t pursue the thought. 

“Day or night?”

  “For romance?”

  “No.” Jacob’s over the subject, Dennis can't help but tease. 

  “Night.” 

Jacob exhales slow, right at Dennis before asking the next question, 

  “Love or Lust.” 

  “Oh.” it slips out, Dennis feels heat on his cheeks. 

  Jacob stands from his chair and boxes Dennis into his own chair, hands on each armrest, leans in, 

  “ I know, Dennis.” his eyes don't move, he gasps out and tries to move his head away, suffocated, tar in his lungs. 

“You’re scaring me again.” easy to default to, Dennis braces.

Jacob brings a hand to his face,  tilting his head back to look at him, 

“If you know, why do I need to answer?

  Jacob smiles, 

“-Love.” he shuts his eyes as he says it, voice raised, Jacobs fingers press firm into his cheek, 

  “fuck– You– how do you…” 

  He lets him go, sated. 

Dennis immediately takes a drag and pulls himself together, 

  “He seemed happier, last I saw him.” 

  Dennis shakes his head, “You don’t–” 

  “I know my own brother.” 

  He doesn't say it loud, but the small change in tone makes his blood freeze and he backs down, 

  “Right. Sorry.” 

“Next question.”

  Dennis nods.

  “Have you ever?” Jacob walks closer to the table and nods, 

  “Got caught sneaking out?” 

  Dennis looks to his surroundings, bleak, gray, hospital room,

  “Could say that.” 

“Fell up or down the stairs.” 

  “Sure.”

Dennis stubs his cigarette out, 

  “About Joseph, how did you know, we were uh– I mean, I just- I don't believe you entirely either.”

He watches Jacob, eyes sharpening as he shakes his head, 

  “Have you ever wanted something so bad it hurt?”

  Dennis nods, 

  “Yeah, you?” 

  Another nod. 

“Ever wanted to disappear?”

  Dennis leans his arm against the rest, 

  “That would be nice.”

“Tell me what happened, and I’ll tell you how I know.” 

  Dennis wagers, looks at Jacob’s expression, unreadable.

  “Any more questions?”

“Preferences.” 

  “Could use a smoke.”

Jacob lights one with the tip of his own, hands it over, 

“Smile or eyes.”

  “Eyes.”

  “Taller?”

  “Mhm.”  

  “Intelligence or attraction?”

Dennis breathes in, 

  “A bit of both, I prefer smart men though.” 

  Jacob raises an eyebrow, 

  “Why?” 

  Dennis smiles, shrugs, “I think it's cute.”

  “Relationship or one night stand?”

  “You know the answer.”

  A chuckle.

A beat passes, a silence, Dennis wonders what’s coming next. 

  Jacob reads the stack of papers, lights a new cigarette,

“Your Family.”

  “No–.”

  “How was your relationship with them?”

  Dennis looks away, shuts his eyes, takes in a long breath, 

  “Standard.” he smiles, albeit shadowed by something more. “My sister Becky, Mom an’ Dad… big happy family.” 

  “Have a messed up life?” 

  “Hah–!” Dennis picks the smoke from his lips, 

  “My Mom and Sister are dead, so, yeah.” 

  “How?” 

  Dennis just looks away.

“Run away from home?” 

  Dennis nods, “I’m here, so yeah, I did. Ran away from everything.”

The recorder clicks, Jacob flips the tape inside it. 

  “After your mom died?”

  “After my sister did.” 

    Jacob looks perplexed, Dennis feels he has an edge over him with it. He goes back to smoking and the next question is asked,

  “Gotten kicked out?”

  “Technically. Dad said to make something of myself or leave. I left.” 

“So, your Mom and Sister die, and he,” Jacob pauses, exhales, “proposes that?”

  “Yep. ‘Big happy family’.” Dennis mocks.

  “Or, well, it was just us. Not much of a family at that point.” 

  Jacob grimaces,

   “Consider yourself pessimistic?”

Dennis shrugs, 

  “Next question.”

Jacob flips the page, sits back in his chair and looks at Dennis, then the page, Reminds him of his old therapist – 

  “Friends?”

  “Didn’t you already ask this?”

  “No, do you have a friend you hate?”

  “No.” 

“Do you have any friends?”

  Dennis flicks the ash of his cigarette, 

  “Are we friends?” 

  Jacob doesn't respond, 

  “Then no.”

 He flips to the next section, prematurely.

  “Best friends?” He looks tired.

  “Well,”

  Jacob looks up, goes to flip the page back over, 

  “It was Becky.” 

A pause, Jacob flips the page.

  “So, no friends then.” 

  Dennis laughs. What else is there to do besides laugh.

He can see through the page in Jacob’s hand, there's one line written stark on the paper and it has Dennis eager. Unsure how long they’d both been asking mindless questions, he clears his throat. 

  “So?” He taps the ash once more, to the damp floor, “Are we done?” 

“Who knows everything about you?” Jacob looks expectantly at him, says nothing besides the question.

  Dennis opens his mouth, scoffs, “What am I supposed to say–”

  Jacob doesn't budge.

   “Am I supposed to say me?” 

  Jacob seems amused by it all, Dennis’ slight confusion growing as he tries to stare him down.

   “It's just,” Dennis deescalates, 

   “You're acting like I should know?”

Dennis, after minutes, gives up. The other doesn’t prod. 

“Don’t worry, you will.”

The interview, or conversation, is finished. 

  The recorder is clicked  off.

Dennis stands up. 

  Jacob mirrors, speaks, 

  “Wait.”

  He does, as Jacob walks over to a white cabinet and opens the doors.

“You left your sweater on Joseph's couch.” 

The color drains from his face, and he almost drops his cigarette to the floor, 

  “I–.” it's the only word he can say as he tries to stutter out an excuse. 

The shirt is pressed to his chest and Dennis grabs it with his free hand. It seems cleaner than it had been originally. He tries not to think too much into it. 

 Jacob brings a hand down firm to Dennis’ shoulder. 

“Now, let’s try this again.” 

Pressed down into his chair once more, 

  Dennis simply nods.

[imgnnafurgf]

Deputy: *gets in the car after hanging out with Sharky*

John, over the radio: and you're wasting your time for THAT. This man jokes about your mother. I would never.

Deputy, tired tone, absolutely used to that shit: he made the joke about twenty minutes ago. How long you've been waiting for me?

John:

John: 4 hours.

[iblewthewhistle]

Mark of Sin

It was becoming too risky, their not so secret meetings. Waylon almost despaired as he stared out over the mountain ridge, chewing on a thumbnail as he waited, wincing when he bit the nail too low.

“Deputy.”

He turned, his eyes falling on Joseph’s figure, as he stepped out of the treeline. The cool, calm gaze twisted into a look of concern, and a thumb slipped over his lower lip. “You’re bleeding. You’re always bleeding.”

“I’m fine, I just…” He let out a breath when Joseph hooked a thumb into his mouth, between his teeth, hushing him.

“My blessed little sinner. So adorable.” Joseph’s hand strokes at his cheek, the thumb shifting free from his teeth and closing around his throat.  Waylon’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a soft sound.

“Come along. Let’s indulge, shall we?”

The strong hand moves from around his throat to the middle of his back, moving into the small cabin. There’s not much inside, a bed, some cupboards, a stash of food and a bottle of whiskey, half-drunk. Waylon was pushed down against the bed, his hands moving to lace his fingers through Joseph’s, even as he was straddled, hands pushed up above his head.

Joseph leans down to kiss him, hands slowly stroking along his wrists, and, in quick, decisive motions, snapped a pair of cuffs over his wrists, binding him to the bed.

“Joseph…”

“Mm. Settle down.” Joseph smiles as he strokes a finger along his jaw and leaves for a moment, before returning with the bottle of whiskey.

“Imbibing, are you?” He asks, tutting gently. “Sinner.” He unscrews the cap, and takes a deep swig, leaning down to kiss him, the sharp sting of whiskey on his tongue.

“I just want to unwind a little..” Waylon breathes even as Joseph’s hand tilts his head this way and that, humming tenderly.

“I want nothing more than to tear you apart underneath me.” Joseph murmurs, as he slips free from the bed, stalking away and out of sight. Waylon lets out a breath as he hears a soft whirring noise, and Joseph moves back over him, holding a tattoo gun.

“I will settle, instead, for proclaiming you as mine.” His hands grab at the shirt and tear it from Waylon’s chest, exposing him, fingers tickling against his collarbone, before the needle started to dig in, the black ink corrupting pale flesh beneath.

And the Eden’s Gate cross blossomed under Joseph’s careful fingertips, kisses and shushes and placations. More corruption spread across his bicep, John’s scales balanced with Bliss flowers one one side, and Jacob’s sword on the other, a crown resting on the base of the scales.

“And now, you belong to me.” Joseph sighs, as he carefully starts to bind the fresh tattoos, stroking away stray tears of pain. “Everyone will know it.”

[gxmergurl]

Currently thinking about the small soft domestic moments between Lucas and Joseph...

Like Lucas always making an extra cup of tea whenever Joseph is working so he can drop it by him since he's too busy to get himself a new one.

Or the light shoulder touches when passing by each other, checking up on each other with a simple touch and glance.

The slow mornings when both wake up a little too early and have enough time to just rest and enjoy each other's company.

Those moments in the evening when Lucas is exhausted from work and he just sits with Joseph listening to him read and ramble.

Or when Lucas comes home too late and just falls into bed exhausted, Joseph immediately reacting and turning to him and holding him.

[seedofjoseph]

cain's sacrifice

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Relationship: Joseph Seed x M!Reader

Rating: M (mature)

Words: 750

@necrodancing666: Would you be willing to do a Joseph Seed with a trans male reader (who hasn't had any bottom surgery) who's the deputy's brother but kind of willingly joins the cult and maybe smut

"Be not afraid, son," his voice echoed in the empty church as he extended his invitation. "Come," he extended his arms. "Join me in prayer."

Incoherent, irrational, and inconsolable are not words you'd speak in the same sentence as Joseph Seed. Even so, between the fire and the brimstone, the swearing and the sobbing, he embodied all three in his siblings' eulogies.

And, even now, with his heavenly eyes dried and his warm voice steady, you struggle to see him as any of these. Even if he summoned you back to where it all began with the promise that it's all coming to an end.

"The end is here," the Father cups your cheeks from the other side of the pulpit. You seek comfort by sinking your head lower and diving nose first into the palm of his hands. "And so are we," he traces the bones underneath with his thumbs. "You, me," his words trail off and so do his fingers before they find your lower lip and pull at it until it's parted with the upper. "And your brother."

There was a new sheriff's deputy in Hope County and you had been the one to bring him here. Before you had reached out to him, you were the estranged brother. And, by the time he answered, you were one of Joseph's children.

You had a new name, a new family, and a renewed purpose. And you wanted all of that for your brother, too, but God had other plans for him.

Joseph Seed sought you out personally, separating you from your brothers and sisters, and keeping you safe at his side. It was through him that you reconnected with yourself, God, and your brother. And it was through him that you found your way to Eden.

At the end, in his compound, in his church, you can only join your hands together in prayer that your brother does the same.

"God is merciful," the Father proceeds, leaning over the pulpit and thrusting a thumb into your mouth. "He extends an olive branch," he swallows when you suck him in whole. "But it remains to be seen if your brother will accept His gift," he snatches you by the scruff of your neck and your chest slams against the solid surface before you. "Or cast it aside," he shoves another finger inside, holding your head still as he slides both of them back and forth on your tongue.

Discomfort, disorientation, and degradation. You warmly welcome all three, same as you readily receive another of his fingers, same as you suffer the stretch of the seams of your mouth.

Because you do not spit in the face of God - you swallow his gifts wholly.

"Come, son," he pulls his fingers away from your lips and your body around the corner of the pulpit. "Join me in prayer," he cleans your chin of spit, lapping it up with his tongue. Then, he turns you around and traps your body between the cold wooden surface and his hot hardened chest.

"Father," you find your voice, despite your drowning in your drool. Despite your chest being strained by the two hard surfaces it's crushed against. "Pray for him," you join your hands together when your arms are bracketed between his biceps. "Pray for my brother."

"My son," he blows hot, moist air at the back of your head. "I pray he welcomes God's gift," he scrapes his beard against the sweat across the surface. "I pray he will welcome my Word inside his heart," he smothers himself against your spine. "As you will welcome me inside your body."

Sweat, slick, and spit. You welcome all of them between your thighs as he bares them, pulling down your jeans and preparing you to receive him. And you are already soaking when his hand probes you, itself already wet from your welcoming mouth.

"T-thank you, Father," you moan, pushing back against his pelvis when he pulls you into it. "I pray he hears your word," you grind against his groin, groaning. "T-that he sees the light."

"I myself have been blind, my son," the Father unfastens his belt while his other set of fingers pulls apart your other pair of lips. "But now I see," he clenches his teeth and hisses once he sets himself free. "He took my family away from me," he spits on his shaft, splattering the access all over the surface of your soft ass. "So that I could have his," he whispers his words over the sound of skin slapping against skin.

[farcry5ocs]

Artwork by me, @mdyaoi

Full name: Dale Rivera

Age: 24ish

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual (…possibly Pan?)

Relationship: Polyamorous (has/had romances with Jacob, Joseph, John, Staci, and Jens ( @decapitatedreality’s OC)

Occupation: Junior Deputy

Game: Far Cry 5

A short description: Dale was a sad soul that went on vacation to Montana several years ago, from his home state of Texas, and he decided to leave everything and resettle in Missoula, and eventually Hope County. He’s been married and divorced twice. He’s been dressing the same way since he was 12, which is traditional country western wear. He is mostly friendly, a constant flirt, and gets a stapler thrown at him daily by Joey because of his corny ass jokes. He was a ranch hand back in Texas part-time while going to community college, focusing on law and liberal arts. He decided to become polyamorous after arriving in Montana, and found he was able to be in love with several people at once. He is unlikely to become monogamous again because he’s currently invested in several relationships, all which seem to accept being open. More on Dale

My blog & OC’s tag: Dale has his own tumblr @rookdale. My main is @mdyaoi. You can see art of Dale with #junior deputy.