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seedofjoseph · 26 days

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a garden locked up is my sister, my bride

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Relationship(s): Polyseed feat. F!Deputy

Rating: M (mature)

Words: 3700

Warning(s): displays of non-platonic affection between non-blood relatives; polyamory; traditional gender roles; more corn than a field; more crack than a backroad

Author's Note: The following fanfic is loosely tied to both canon and my own headcanon in the form of an E-rated one (link). And it has even looser ties to Valentine's Day.

Eden's Gate does not recognize any saints save for every Project member who ever took a bullet for the Father. There are as many martyrs as there are guns in Hope County, and some of them might've even been Valentines.

On the last day of summer and what could've easily been the first day of the Collapse, the Seeds reunited on their Ranch in Holland Valley for a feast. They were to eat, drink and enjoy life in the name of their dead Family members. And to celebrate the newest addition: you.

"I see yooou, girls," John threatened you with a sweet song, but not as sweet as the chocolate hearts you and Faith smuggled from his stockpile. "Don't be greedy," he followed your bare footfalls out of the kitchen, and your giggles all the up the stairs. "You're supposed to share."

"We are," you laughed, leading Faith into the master bedroom. "One box for the both of us," you came around the king-sized bed and cut the rug on your way onto the balcony.

"Oh, no," Faith feigned concern at being cornered. She even shielded herself behind you, sneaking a peak at John over your shoulder.

"Oh, yes."

He cracked up, catching his breath. However, he wasn't in a hurry to put his hands on either of you, choosing to extend his arms on either side of your only exit and entrance.

"Nowhere left to run," he leaned on his right foot. "Nowhere left to hide." Then, on his left.

"Brother," she spoke up when you couldn't stop snickering for long enough to do so yourself. "This isn't my fault," her hands slid along your arms and clasped the heart-shaped chocolate box you wore like armor over your chest. "She made me do it."

"What?" You turned, your cheek brushing up against her batting eyelashes. "I thought we had a Thelma and Louise thing going on," your indignation was audible and only drowned out by her sweet snickering. "Help me out here, Faith."

"I'll help you," his words were velvet wrapping around the two of you while both of his hands reached out. "I'll help you both. All you have to do is atone for your sin through an exercise in virtue," his tongue was dipped in honey while he put one foot in front of the other. "Charity."

"He wants it," she whispered into your ear, winding you up along with your arms. As she moved them like a marionette's, you saw them both before you, outstretched. "Let him have it, sister." And, as she pressed her chest against your back, her hands pulled at your own and the heart-shaped chocolate box opened before him. "You want a taste?"

"Want a taste?"

John was only another slow and sure step away from snatching the entire thing, but he stopped and stuttered when all three of you opened yourself to him. "What?" He narrowed his eyes and bunched up his brows. "What are you two playing at?"

"Charity," Faith blew air like a summer breeze behind your ear.

"Charity."

He didn't bite, but he did try for a taste test. With his eyebrows now raised and his eyes digging into the box, John placed his palms atop yours.

"Let him have it," she extracted her hands from underneath his and surrendered yours for direct skin-to-skin contact.

As soon as she slithered her way down your spine and over your sides, he bound your wrists in a brisk move that had the heart-shaped box falling between your fingers and shattering in chocolates all across the balcony. Her esape plan has been a success, leaving you trapped.

"Judas," you called after your partner-in-crime who was crawling away from the chaos she'd created.

"Look at what you did," John joined both of your wrists into a single grip of his. "Look at what you made me do," he lifted your arms above your head and spun you around, slamming your back against his chest as he pulled you into a crushing caress. "Now nobody gets to have a taste."

"John," you screeched, more thrilled than tortured by his manhandling. "John, stop," your voice shifted to a higher pitch, the shrill sound of it a stranger to your own ears. "I almost stepped on one," you balanced yourself on your bare feet while being dragged across the sun-kissed balcony.

What felt right at home was the hot and heavy breath at the back of your head. "I said I would help you, didn't I?" And the sensation of his strained arm muscles maneuvering your body back into the bedroom. "All that processed sugar is bad for you," he squeezed the side of your thigh he tightened his arms around, crumpling the crispt white skirt of your new Sunday dress he had scavenged Holland Valley for.

"Let her go," you heard Faith before you saw her. She stood taller than both of you, up on the bed, but chose to come down from there by landing and latching onto John's back.

"Fuck," he screamed, swiveling and stumbling with you handing off of his arms and her hanging off of his shoulders. "Fuck," he fell to his side, cushioning the both of you as your bound bodies bounced atop the mattress.

"Let us go," she threatened, untangling his now limp limbs from around your torso before binding him with his back against the sheets and his wrists in each of her small hands. "Or else."

"Fuck," John heaved, his chest moving up and down, lifting and lowering her as she straddled it. Still, while he strained to breathe with her sitting atop of him, he didn't even bother to wrestle his hands out of hers from where they wound up: over his head. "You know I can't do that, Faith."

From where you lay across the mattress, stretched out on your side next to him, you saw a man more than content to have been captured by a couple of women. Though he did make a show out of the sweet struggle of being suffocated by the strands of the perfumed hair draped over his face.

"Then we can't let you go," you laughed, looking at your sister-in-suffering who had joined forces with you once more when she dipped her head next to yours.

"Girls," he exhaled, not even bothering to move his mouth when you stole the last of his air from his lungs with a short and sweet peck. "You're going to be the death of me," he inhaled, the Bliss clinging to Faith's hair tickling his nose.

A fourth voice raised above your girlish giggling and his heavy breathing. "Ladies," it boomed and bounced off the bedroom walls. "This asshole bothering you?" It brought your attention to the door that none of you had bothered to close.

"Brother," your sister freed your other brother, flying off of him and over to Jacob Seed. "You made it," she smashed against his side.

"'Course I made it," he smiled, none of the hard lines you saw illuminated in the moonlight all those nights ago showing themselves in the afternoon sun. "It's Valentine's Day," he stroked her hair, his large, calloused hand sliding smoothly against the crown of her head. "C'mere, angel," he beckoned you. "Jonny can't hurt you while I'm around."

"Don't let Joseph hear you call it that," you hear John comment cooly from the emptied bed while you bounced to his brother's other side, warming up to his body heat.

He snorted, swinging his arm over your shoulder. "Let's wish each other Happy Holiday within earshot. Just to be safe."

"Where is Father?"

"He's wishing everyone else a Happy Holiday," Jacob looked down at Faith, rubbing calming circles into her sad, slumped shoulders. "He was closing in on the church in Fall's End the last time I radioed him."

"I thought we'd all be there for the potluck," you looked over the chocolate hearts melting out in the sun. "Is that still happening?"

"Everyone's coming over here for dinner," Jacob followed your line of sight all the way to the balcony. "Is that what you were fighting them over, Johnny? Candy?"

"I was teaching them about charity," the youngest brother defended himself, dry and parched for attention. "That candy was supposed to be passed around at the table, not hoarded."

"He thinks I'm hoardin' you," the oldest brother whispered, winding each of his arms around your middle and whisking you both off of your feet. "Here's your charity case," he huffed, hurrying towards the bed where John still lay.

All three of you landed in a heap of laughter, latching onto the fourth with greedy, grubby hands and starved smirking mouths. Now it was you and Faith on either side of John, leaving Jacob alone and above the scene, on his hunches, hollering.

"How's that for a treat, Johnny?"

"Damn it," he answered from under the adoration he was being showered with. "God damn it," he tossed his head back when your lips slipped into his collar where it was getting hot and stuffy.

"That sweet, huh?" Jacob moved off of the mattress and made a short trip to the scene of the crime to recover the surviving chocolates.

"More like blasphemous," John's chest shook under your mouth as he chuckled. "Sinful." And he licked the corner of his mouth where Faith had kissed him. "Deadly," he smirked at the sound of her squeak. He had snatched her up by the nape of her neck. Then, he tenderly tongued at the corner of her mouth, tasting the seam of it.

"Aww," she provoked him, pressing her forehead against his. "We've been too hard on you."

"Hard?" He slid his hand down your spine, slipping it under the skirt and slapping your uncovered cheek so hard your thigh trembled where you had thrown it over his obvious bulge. "I haven't been hard enough on you."

"Thought today was supposed to be about tender loving care," Jacob joined you on the bed, hicking his knee up at the foot of it. "And treats," he plucked a heart from the similarly shaped box. "Johnny, think fast," he tossed it towards him.

To everyone's surprise, including his own, John caught the treat between his teeth. In response, Jacob barked out a laugh, Faith pulled away far enough to bring her palms together and clap, and you slacked your jaw.

"Atta boy!"

"Father be praised!"

John, with his mouth full, couldn't respond. At least, not verbally. As if to cover up the crevice that was your open mouth, he gave you half of his heart to bite.

Jacob plucked another one and popped it into his own mouth. "There's that charity you were teaching 'em about," he chewed.

"It's a virtue," John licked his lips and laid down, high on the sweetness he'd been served.

You went as far as to demonstrate the lesson, by cupping Faith's cheek and carefully passing half of the chocolate chunk to her.

"Good," the older brother gave his approval, approaching the both of you with another heart to share. And it was Faith's turn to tear into it and feed you half. "Good girl," he groaned when you glazed his chocolate-covered fingers while wrapping your lips around them. "Shit," he choked out as you sucked him in.

"That sweet, huh?" The younger brother teased.

"Loving care and sweet treats," he cleared his voice, closing the now empty box with his saliva-slick fingers. "And gifts," he tossed it towards the entrance where a rucksack rested. "Fetch."

You and Faith stared at each other for no longer than a second before sprinting toward the bag of goodies. While you shoved the door hard enough for the wind to shut it, she snatched a strap and pulled it across the floor and to the foot of the bed. And under both brothers' eyes.

"Don't tell me you went shopping."

"No," he shook his head as if turning over the idea inside his skull. "Did you?"

"I did," John draped one arm over his shoulder and dropped one atop your white sleeve. "A new dress for our new sister."

"Fancy," Jacob murmured, watching you kiss his brother's knuckles in gratitude. "Musta been expensive."

"Not more expensive than Faith's," John looked over at her, and she swung her arms in the air, her new loose sleeves fluttering like wings..

"I went huntin'," Jacob said suddently, startling you.

Locking eyes with Faith again, you slowly sunk your hand into the rucksack while she silently unzipped it.

"And pickin' flowers," Jacob leaned down, taking the lead and taking out the two newspaper-wrapped boxes.

"What? What kind of flowers growing up there anyway?" John snorted while the two of you tore into the gifts. "Did you chop down a three for each?" John inquired further, now faced with two wooden boxes, blessed with the blood-red paint of Eden Gate's Cross.

"Will you wait for 'em to open the damn things or are you just gon' guess my ear off?" He raised his voice and his posture, tensing up. "A'ight," he clutched his knees, digging his jagged nail into his warn-out jeans. "Ladies?"

Silently, the two of you made a truce to break the tension, lifting up the lids at the same time. Gasping, you gathered your gifts which consisted of a rabbit foot silver pendant and the wildflowers laid to rest in raisin at the bottom of the box.

"Went huntin' on the last full moon, when this jackrabbit jumped out," he rubbed his palms against his pants as if to dry them further. "They're supposed to be lucky charms, though those feet didn't take 'im to no pot of gold," he toyed with the foot hanging from his neck, slumping over and steading his forearms on his thighs. "Made 'em myself. And the boxes. Painted 'em. Poured the raisin."

John joined him, crossing his arms atop his thighs. "You have an artist's eye," he joined their foreheads and Jacob's frown was smothered between their skins. "Runs in the family."

"He does," Faith showed off her flowers to you. "He made us still life paintings."

You traced them through the transparent surface. "They're beautiful."

"And poisonous," she added, now adorning the taxidermied charm around her neck. "It's bittersweet nightshade."

"Poetry runs in our blood," John smiled and Jacob joined him in the end. "Beautiful and deadly."

"They are." He reached down for the both of you, and you each rested your cheek in one of his cupped hands. "Like a couple of little ladies I know."

"Thank you," Faith fluttered her lashes and kissed his thumb while it traced her sweet smile.

And you took your time nuzzling into the warm nook that was the palm of his hand.

"Do you hear that?" John perked up, peering over Jacob's bowed head and out towards the balcony.

"Cavalry's here."

Faith was fast to react, running across the floor and reclining over the railing. "He's here," she jumped on her bare feet, joining in the outdoor choir. "The Father's here," she waved down at them, then waved over to you.

The Father was preoccupied with the praise of every other sibling downstairs to spot either one of you up on the second floor. It was Jacob's whistling that diverted the direction of his eyes from the driveway and focused his split attention on a singular point. And it felt like you were in the crosshairs of a firearm instead of a heated gaze.

Your heart was racing so fast, it competed with the rabbit's foot pendant you wrapped around your wrist. And it stopped altogether when the sun highlighted the slight curve in the corner of his mouth. If it weren't for your sister squeezing your hand, you might've melted down to your feet like the chocolates still scattered on the balcony.

"Joseph," Jacob exclaimed. "See you downstairs," he enunciated.

Joseph Seed answered with a big wave and a small smirk.

"C'mere, Johnny," you caught the oldest brother's words as they slipped through the cracked open bathroom door. "You chocolate all over your mouth."

"Damn it, Jake," the sound of the youngest brother sighing had you and Faith smiling silently at each other. "I'm not a fucking child."

"Oh, shit," you heard her swear for the first time, right before she grabbed a toothbrush - John's toothbrush - from the sink and furiously cleaned her chocolate-stained front teeth. "Make it fast," she passed it to you along with the paste. "Father's probably done wishing Happy Holiday by now."

"Gimmie a second," you sighed, still shaking from the earlier sighting. "Just need a second," you tremble as you thread your fingers through your hair.

"Here," she smoothed her fingers against your scalp and behind your ears. "He loves this fragrance," she stroked the spot with the scent she chemically engineered herself and had bottled especially for you in a glass vial. "He won't even notice the nervous sweat."

"Shut up," you lean back against her, laughing.

"I like it," she stared you down, over your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "You smell like you did back when you lept off of Joseph's Word," she nuzzled the strip of skin she rubbed the Bliss-based spray into. "You were so scared," her lips latched onto your earlobe. "But it was worth it, wasn't it?" She whispered over the wet flesh and you whimpered. "Now you're one with the Father."

You remember it like a dream or a nightmare. Sister Faith had you take a leap of faith like every other Devoted, but it wasn't enough to keep on the Path. In the end, it wasn't Brother Jacob who brought you to your knees. It was Brother John who filled you with fear, soaked you in your own sweat, and make you bow before the Father.

Now, with a trembling on your lips and a thrill up your spine, you toss your head back, resting it on her shoulder, and taste sweet trepidation behind her tongue and sucked in a minty tongue.

"Your second's up," she pulled away, pulling a pained sound out of you.

"One more," you spun around, snatching her up and sitting her atop the sink.

"You're bad," she giggled while you gathered up the white lace into her lap and shoved your satin skirt-covered thighs in the sweet, slick space between hers. "Such a bad influence," she puffed, pushing her pelvis forward.

"Shut up and kiss me," you spoke into her gaping mouth, grinding down on he groin.

Your tongues had only just passed each other when reality came rapping at the bathroom door.

"Ladies," Jacob sounded faint like he'd been the one stealing breaths away. "Joseph's downstairs."

"In a minute," your sister spoke for the both of you, sliding off of the sink and smoothing down her dress skirt. In a minute, she combed through your mushed hair and cooled down your boiling blood. "Take the leap," she laced her fingers with yours and took the lead. "It'll be worth it."

John escorted you, holding the bedroom door open. "Take a good long look, Jake. That's the last we'll see of them."

"Just turn your head around, jackass," Jacob followed in your footsteps.

"You know what I mean," you heard John closing in on you and the first flight of stairs. "Daddy's home."

"Startin' to think it's you who needs to learn how to share," he lowered the volume of his voice the further down you went. "Bet that bed back there could fit five."

Faith feigned ignorance, swinging the bound arms between the two of you as she skipped her way to the sofa where Joseph Seed sat with a guitar in his lap.

"Father!" She bounced onto the bear rug and you followed, feeling the fur tickle your toes. "Look!" Turning towards you, she unfurled your fingers and thought you how to twirl.

And you mirrored her, moving counterclockwise, and pausing with your hands on each side of your skirt. "Mine has pockets, too," you slipped them inside.

"Brother John got them for us!"

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him and he hesitated at first, but eventually smiled back.

Like you, John picked up on the guitar pick pausing, and the strumming stopping. The Father was about to speak.

"Beautiful," his sky-blue eyes lit up behind the sun of his glasses like he already knew where to look for the 'deadly' that 'beautiful' was paired up with. Lifting the guitar off of his lap, he sat each of you on either side of him. And so, he hoisted your leg up on his thigh, while you folded the other under you and cozied up into the cushions.

"John always had an eye for the finer things in life," his voice was warm and his breath was hot as he spoke against the slope of your neck like he already picked up on the perfume.

"Runs in the family," John's smile was sincere as he came to sit at your side.

"You'd have to be blind not to know a pretty little thing when you see one," Jacob took you by your hand and showed off the silver pendant nestled in the palm of it. "Killed this one for 'em. And for good luck."

"Is that blood on your hands? Joseph focused on his thumb, the sweet stain still clinging to it.

"Chocolate," he chuckled after taste-testing it. "We shared a box full of 'em."

John smothered a laugh between your shoulder blades and Faith hid her face under Father's chin.

"I see," the Father unfurrowed his brow, relaxing his rigid muscles underneath your tentative touch. "I do hope you saved room for dessert."

"Doncha mean dinner, Joseph?"

"I mean cupcakes," his smirk returned, a hand running through your hair, tucking it behind your ear while he took another whiff.

"Oh," Faith brightened up, bouncing on his knee. "You've been baking again?"

"No," he pecked her pouting lips. "We'll be baking. All of us. As a family."

"A'ight," Jacob's joints popped as he plopped himself next to Faith. "Long as the baby doesn't go anywhere near a stove."

"The baby?" You were confused, but only until John cleared the fog you found yourself in.

"There he goes again. Jake, I'm your kid brother, not an actual kid."

"You are the man of the house," Joseph said solemnly, with only a sprinkle of sarcasm. "Thank you for hosting us this holiday, John."

"Happy Holiday," you wished him, just as you and Jacob had agreed.

"Happy Holiday, my child," he murmured into your mouth, gifting you your first kiss on the last day of summer.

And, if God is good, it would be the first day of the Collapse.

#hey #don’t think I didn’t see you #reading this on Easter weekend #yes #this got quite a few notes #far cry 5 #my fanfic #polyseed #and other tags #I already used in the OG post

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