#FC5 fanfiction

[aceghosts]

Oh, The Reckoning Begins Chapter 6

Series Summary: Five years ago, Junior Deputy Blue Murphy disappeared with Joseph Seed at the final standoff, only to be found a year later in Dutch's bunker. Now, five years later from that final standoff, Blue Murphy and Hope County have moved on with their lives. However, new sinister forces threaten Blue's life, and they will have to rely on the man who started this all to survive: Joseph Seed.

Ch. 1| Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Guilt, Emotional Manipulation, Graphic Depictions of Unrealistic nightmares, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Death, Explicitly talking about Someone's dead sibling, Blue having a Breakdown, and I think that should cover everything. Please let me know if I should tag for anything else.

Words: 4,269 words.

Author's Note: I did not mean for this chapter to take so long, lol. Hopefully, the next one will be quicker.

AO3

A few days after speaking with Joseph, Blue’s cell phone vibrates softly on their desk, dread washing over them. They look down at the caller ID, recognizing the number: Special Agent Hawthorne. Damnit, Blue hoped he might leave them alone. Blue would not talk to Joseph again; they had to, for their own sanity, which felt like it was starting to slip away like leaves being carried off by a strong breeze. Eventually, their cell phone quiets, Special Agent Hawthorne going to voicemail. They wait a few minutes, wondering if he would call again. Mercifully, their phone is silent as Blue lets out a relieved sigh.

Later that night, when Blue is the only one in the station, they finally gather the courage to listen to the voicemail. Special Agent Hawthorne is calm and empathetic in his message, once again tugging on their heartstrings:

“Thank you for helping us, Blue. Joseph was very cooperative with us after you left; your words gave him a lot to think about. I would like to request that you come speak to him again before our next session. We think it would help keep Joseph invested in working with us. I’m happy to drive you or provide reimbursement for gas.” Special Agent Hawthorne pauses, letting out a deep sigh. “Blue, I understand that after everything Joseph Seed did to you, that you would never want to see him again. Think of the people you can help; do it for them. Do it for Philip Santiago. Do it for Arthur Wilson. Do it for Abigail Carter. Do it for your friends. Do it for those who were killed by Eden’s Gate the first time. You have the power to make things right, Blue.”

They hang up the cell phone, tears burning in their eyes. Boomer huffs and Blue looks over to find him watching them expectantly. “I’m not going. I can’t….” They hesitate, shoulders dropping, “I’m not a hero. I can’t do this, not again.” Looking away from Boomer, they hear him huff again, and Blue wonders if everyone expects them to go. “Shit.” They murmur, grief clouding their mind.

The nightmares are relentless.

Blue stumbles through the Bliss, gagging as nausea overwhelms them. The smell is overpowering, acid rising in their throat. Their eyes water, burning as they try to blink away the tears. Someone grabs them by the their jacket collar, yanking Blue back. They stumble backward, their eyes meeting Marshal Burke’s. He sneers at them, disappointment written across his face. “Saved your life, Rookie, and this how you repay us?” He snarls, hauling them towards the water. Bliss rises from the water in a cloud of thick smoke, the water a sparkly putrid green. They howl with fear, scratching at the Marshal uselessly, trying to wriggle out of their jacket. Yet, Marshal Burke succeeds, overpowering Blue as he dunks them under the water. They thrash in a desperate scramble for survival, fear coursing through their body. He yanks them out of the water after what feels like an eternity, only to submerge them barely a few seconds later. Over and over.  Blue’s lungs burn as they desperately suck in air, only to choke down more water. “When will you learn, Rookie? When will you learn that you can never escape us?” Out of the corner of their eye, in a haze of sparkly green mist, Faith appears, smiling coldly as the Marshal shoves their head under the water once more.

CRACK! Pain radiates across Blue’s face as someone punches them. Their aviators crack, breaking into pieces as they fly off their face. Stumbling back a few steps, Blue refocuses, Eli Palmer pulling his fist back for another punch, face full of murderous rage. He sucker punches them in the gut, Blue doubling over as they let out a gasp of pain. Their brain panics momentarily, trying to get their lungs to suck in air. Blue feels Eli’s calloused fingers in their hair, harshly pulling them up to face him. An involuntary pained whimper escapes them as tears well in their eyes. Behind Eli, Blue catches sight of a figure, hidden in the shadows of the Wolf’s Den. Jacob Seed is grinning, a sick, predatory grin that sends a shiver straight up their spine. “I took you in, Rook, and what did I get for it? A rabid wolf in my den.” It wasn’t me; It was that damn music box. Yet, Blue finds they can’t say anything. Or maybe, they won’t. After all, they deserve this, right? Eli was their friend, and Blue fucking murdered him. “PATHETIC!” Eli roars, sending Blue crashing toward the ground. Blue hits the ground, dazed, before Eli’s boot connects with their rib, a sharp crack following. They bite down on their bottom lip, tasting the blood a second later as another kick connects.

“Hey Deputy,” Blue scrambles back towards the wall, away from Dutch. They’re stopped by the handcuffs, painfully connecting them to the small bed. His hands reach out as Blue kicks out. He narrowly dodges their kicks, hands wrapping around their throat. His fingers are thick, squeezing painfully down on their neck. They gasp for air, kicking more wildly now as they try to escape Dutch’s grasp. “I hauled your ass out of that burning wreckage, Deputy. I gave you shelter. I gave you a fucking army,” He snarls, flecks of spit hitting their face. Blue looks around, desperate for help, any help. Joseph Seed, leaning against the wall with a serene fucking look on his face, watches on as Blue’s struggles become weaker. “And, what did you do? Bring fucking Joseph Seed right fucking here? Let him strangle me to death?” A black fuzziness creeps in at the edge of their vision, limbs feeling like lead.

Another figure enters their fading vision, smiling cruelly at Blue. “Did you ever really think we could be free from this? We belong here, Wrath. There is no escape,” the other Blue taunts, their cruel grin widening.

Blue shoots up in their bed, soaked in sweat and tears. Boomer comes to them, licking the salty tears from their cheeks. Taking in a shaky breath, Blue mulls over their dreams. Did they deserve this? Were they destined to be there with Joseph at the end of the world? No, that was stupid. Blue belongs here in Hope County, with friends who love them and gorgeous nature.

They belong here, right?

Blue sighs, helping Boomer up into the truck. Once he was safely sitting shotgun, Boomer licks Blue’s face, making a shitty day slightly better. They laugh, scratching him fondly behind his left ear as Boomer grumbles in happiness. Thank whatever god existed for Boomer; He was their lifeline, the one constant comfort in all the shit they had been through in Hope County. Blue closes the door of the truck, looking out towards the setting sky. It was late, the pink nearly extinguished into the navy. Yet, they felt lucky to be alive, especially after last night. It was the small moments, like Boomer licking them joyfully or seeing the beauty of a sunset that kept Blue alive.

The sound of a car pulling into the Ranger Station parking lot jolts Blue from their thoughts. They look over, finding the very last two people they wanted to see. The maroon sedan stops shortly behind their truck, trying to block Blue into their space. Their fists clench, anxiety settling deep into their chest. Blue would not be intimidated by these two. If they had to, they would ram the sedan with their truck. Wouldn’t be the first time Blue rammed a truck through a blockade of cars.

“Ranger Murphy!” Ethel calls, getting out of the passenger side of the sedan. Peter parks the sedan, turning it off before joining his wife. He nods at Blue, a coldness in his eyes. “I wanted to make sure that you didn’t lose our number. You never gave us a call.” She walks towards Blue, focused intently on them.

Boomer lets out a sharp bark, deep growls emanating from him as his ears lay flat against his head. Ethel nervously glances towards Boomer, stepping back towards Peter. He wraps an arm around Ethel, who leans into him for comfort, as he shoots a nasty look towards Boomer. “Your dog isn’t going to bite us, is he?” Peter asks, distaste clear in his voice.

“Not unless you are a Peggie.” Their eyes narrow, glaring at Peter and Ethel.

Ethel laughs nervously. “Peggies, that’s what the Hope County Resistance called members of Eden’s Gate, correct?” Blue doesn’t speak, only nodding in response. “We’re not with Eden’s Gate, Ranger Murphy. We are just doing a story on them. Peter and I are not your enemies; we want to help you, Ranger Murphy. Telling your story can be cathartic.”

“The Ranger Station is closed for the day. If you have any urgent questions, you should call Emergency Services. If it is a nonemergency, you can call the number of the Ranger Station, and a Ranger will return your call,” They reply, using their best customer service voice, crossing their arms over their chest. What would it take for Ethel and Peter to fucking leave?

Ethel smiles a strained smile, her polite mask cracking slightly. “As you know, Ranger Murphy, we’re not interested in talking about the National Parks. We want to talk to you about Eden’s Gate.”

“I think I made it damn clear that I don’t want to talk about Eden’s Gate. If you continue to harass me about this, I will seek legal measures against you.” After Eden’s Gate, Blue only had to seek legal remedy once to get someone off their back as most people were either scared off or realized they weren’t going to get anywhere. The man, clearly going through something, believed that Joseph was some sort of alien with Eden’s Gate as a front for experimentation, and Blue, a witness to this horror show, was covering for him. Blue wishes it had been something that wild rather than common human cruelty. Maybe, they wouldn’t feel so awful about what they had done.

Peter sighs in frustration, shaking his head. “You know, all this avoidance would make one wonder what you have to hide, Ranger Murphy. Makes me wonder if you might not be so innocent.”

Blue’s blood runs cold, eyes widening at his statement. “Is that a threat?” They ask anxiously, nails digging into the cotton fabric of their forest green ranger shirt.

He shakes his head again. “No, Ranger Murphy. The truth will always come out. Ethel and I are going to make sure of that.” Peter pauses, a small smirk on his face. “Ranger Murphy, what was your relationship with Joseph Seed? The files aren’t clear on that.”

No way. Blue was not going to have this conversation with Ethel or Peter. “I’m sorry, but if you want information on Eden’s Gate, please speak with Sheriff Whitehorse. I will not speak with you.” Blue turns their back to the couple, uncrossing their arms. Their steps are shaky, adrenaline and anxiety coursing through their body. Their left hand reaches out, steadying them against the cold metal of the truck. All they have to do is make it to the driver’s seat. Just make it to the driver’s seat…

“If you don’t have a relationship with Joseph Seed, why did you visit him in prison this weekend?” Ethel’s tone is smug. Their breath catches in their throat as they stop. A moment passes before Blue sucks in a deep breath, their heart pounding loudly in their ears. How the fuck did Ethel and Peter know about that visit with Joseph? Anyone Blue had told knew to keep it a secret. Hell, the whole County knew what hell Joseph had put Blue through, especially with stealing a year of their life in that bunker. A whole year they’ll never get back. A whole year less with loved ones. “It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Ethel explains matter of fact, “Besides, I doubt you know anyone in that penitentiary but Joseph Seed. It makes sense that you would be there to visit him.”

Blue whirls around, wrath burning within them. “Have you been stalking me?”

Ethel and Peter exchange uneasy glances with each other. “Stalking is a harsh word,” Peter answers, “We were watching your home, trying to decide when we might talk to you again. And well…,” He shrugs, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Ethel and I just happened to find a bigger scoop, but you haven’t denied it. What is your relationship like with Joseph Seed? Strange that a ‘victim’ of his would go to visit him.”

They swallow, trying to get their wrath under control. Blue wouldn’t let Peter or Ethel get the best of them. Trying to play the question off, Blue rolls their eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what weird narrative you’ve cooked up in your heads, but I did not visit Joseph Seed. I don’t want anything to do with him or Eden’s Gate for the rest of my life. So, fuck off.” They could no longer be nice or polite about any of this. Underneath their shirt, the WRATH scar starts to burn, a stark reminder of the anger simmering within them. Without thinking, Blue reaches up to scratch their WRATH scar.

Ethel tilts her head, stepping forward as she shrugs Peter’s arm off her shoulder. “Are we making you angry, Ranger Murphy? After all, that’s where the WRATH tattoo lays right? I saw an examination photo of it; looks rather nasty.”

Shame courses through them as Blue looks away. The examination photos were supposed to be private, but photos of the WRATH and PRIDE scar had leaked on the internet. And now the cat was out of the bag. No matter how many take-down notices anyone sent, they just seemed to pop up again and again. Eventually, Blue gave up, resigned to having some of their worst physical scars out there on the internet.  Looking back, Blue glares at Peter and Ethel. “Yeah, I’m angry. You keep bringing up Eden’s Gate, which contains some of the worst memories of my life, and then you can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to talk about it,” They let out a hysterical laugh, before they raise their voice, “By the way, a tattoo is something you want! What John Seed gave me was a fucking scar! It wasn’t a fucking tattoo!”

“I’m sorry, Ranger Murphy. I’ll refer to it correctly next time,” She steps closer, “You still haven’t answered our questions on your relationship with Joseph Seed.”

“Are you romantically involved with him?” Peter asks, following Ethel.

Blue snorts, shaking their head. The fucking nerve of these two! “Fuck no.” They turn away from the pair again, determined to get in their truck and drive away.

“Ranger Murphy, wait-.”

BARK!

 Boomer barks loudly, ramping up his behavior as he slams against the window. His barks are interspersed with deep and throaty growls, malice in his normally warm brown eyes. His teeth glint in the window, ready to rip apart anyone who would threaten his owner. Blue knew he had lost one owner, and that Boomer wouldn’t let that happen again. Ethel screams, scrambling backward only to fall on her ass. As Boomer barks, Ethel crawls away, Peter helping her up seconds later. Coming to the passenger side window, Blue lays their hand on the glass. Boomer stops, a low whine coming from him as he licks the window. His tail wags ferociously, practically a blur. 

Glaring at Blue, Peter snidely comments, “You should control that dog of yours.”

“Good boy!” Blue praises Boomer, winking at him. He barks joyously, only to start growling menacingly again at Peter and Ethel. “As I said, Boomer only acts this way if you’re a Peggie.”

“My sister…,” Ethel starts, a soft sob escaping her as Peter rubs her back, “My sister was a part of Eden’s Gate. She is the reason we’re doing this.”

“Oh.” Guilt washes over them as Blue awkwardly looks away. No matter how many times it happened, Blue was never good at dealing with the family members of those who had lost a Peggie. So many wanted to know what happened to their parents, partners, children, and others. Blue didn’t have a good answer for them then, and they sure as hell didn’t have a good answer now. “Is she….um?”

Ethel nods, Peter taking her hand as he interlaces his fingers with hers. “She died. She almost survived it, but then she had to help Joseph in your final fight with him. And that’s the one she didn’t make it back from.”

Blue frowns, the memory hitting them.

“I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN SAVE YOU!” Joseph screams as Blue hauls Grace up to her feet. The Bliss is thick around them in a sparkly greenish-white mist, stuck in their throat as Blue lets out a nasty cough. Their stomach twists, a wave of nausea rolling over them.

“You okay, Dep?” Grace asks, letting out a cough of her own as soon as she is steady on her feet.

Blue nods. “I’m fine. We need to stop him!”

Grace readies her gun, giving them a decisive nod. “On it.”

The two split as Blue heads after Nick, determined to free him from Joseph’s control. A Peggie steps into their way, assault rifle pointed at Blue. They stop in their tracks, raising their shotgun. Blue remembers the way her pale blonde hair glinted in the misty sunlight, her piercing green eyes. The moment doesn’t last long as Sharky body checks the Peggie, slamming her out of the way. “I got ya, shorty!”

“Thanks,” Blue yells, moving into action once again. They’re not going to let Joseph win.

“Oh.” Oh shit, that was-.

“Do you remember her now?” Ethel asks, her eyes glassy with tears.

“I do,” Blue admits quietly. “Ethel, I’m so sor-.”

“Save it. I don’t want your sympathy,” She snarls before another sob escapes her, Peter squeezing her hand, “I just want my sister back, but that’s impossible. Now, I just want to understand why.”

If Blue could, they would give Ethel her sister back. They would give so many people their families back. But they can’t, and now they have to live with all that blood on their hands. And they’ll never know why Joseph chose them for all of this, why they were the one chosen to be the devil. Except for their time in the Bunker, Blue never believed in the Voice. Clenching their left hand into a fist, their fingernails dig into their palm painfully, drawing blood. “I don’t know why he chose me, why he had to make me the harbinger of the apocalypse. If I knew why, I would have done everything in my power to not be that person!” They uncurl their fist, wiping tears in their eyes. Fuck, how desperately they would wish to not be that person.  

“Would you have walked away?” Ethel asks.

“What?”

“Would you have walked away?” She asks, enunciating every word as she narrows her eyes coldly. “I know Joseph Seed gave you a choice to walk away. So, if you had the chance again, would you have walked away?”

Blue knows what the answer should be: Yes. They should say ‘Yes, I would have walked away that night’. But…they can’t say yes; they can’t say the words everyone wants to hear. Even with the knowledge of what happens, Blue wouldn’t be able to walk away, doomed to repeat the cycle of violence over and over again. Walking away would be leaving the people of Hope County to die, to be tortured at the hands of Eden’s Gate. And they couldn’t do that. Blue wasn’t one to ignore what they saw as a clear injustice, and Hope County was an injustice if Blue ever saw one. Maybe if Blue were a better person, even a good one, they might have been able to solve it peacefully, talk Joseph out of this madness. But they would never leave Hope County to suffer.

Taking a deep breath, Blue looks Ethel directly in the eyes, squaring their shoulders. “No, I wouldn’t have walked away. Not even if I knew what was going to happen.”

Ethel’s eyes widen, tears running down her cheeks as she stares at Blue in abject horror. “You’re a monster,” She snarls desperately, “You and Joseph Seed. You two deserve each other.”

“We should leave.” Peter pulls Ethel away as she leans into him, sobbing into his chest. He doesn’t spare Blue a glance as they stand there shocked, only able to watch as Peter leads Ethel to the sedan. “She isn’t wrong, Ranger Murphy. You’re just as much a monster as he is. You could have stopped this; you always could have.”

They watch Peter and Ethel get into the car, driving away a few moments later. Once Ethel and Peter are gone, Blue slumps to their knees, throwing out their hands to catch themself. Parking lot gravel digs into their hands as body-wracking sobs consume them. The Williams were right. Blue could have stopped this; they always had the choice. And they never did. Instead, they fought, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake, just like monsters always do.

“FUCK!” They scream, raw and angry, slamming their hands against the ground. Inside the truck, Boomer lets out a high-pitched whine, terrified for his human. Their sobs only continue as grief and rage consume them, leaving Blue unable to move.

Eventually, (they don’t know how much later, but all the pink is gone from the sky), Blue gets up to their feet, feeling hollow and tired. Their vision isn’t blurry from the tears, sobs no longer shaking their body so hard that they couldn’t stand. Shakily, they make their way to the driver’s seat, leaning against the truck for support.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Blue barely closes the door before Boomer starts licking them. His tail wags, happy to see them again. “Thanks Boomer. I’m okay.” Their voice is hoarse from all the crying. Boomer pulls away, but he still looks concerned as he patiently waited in shotgun.

Pulling their seatbelt on, a thought crosses their mind. They might not be able to make up for the loss of Ethel’s sister, but they had to do something to make things right, and there was only one clear path in front of them. Grabbing their cell phone, Blue dials a number.  

 His phone only ring’s once before picking up. “Blue?” Special Agent Hawthorne sounds surprised, yet hopeful on the other end.

Cutting straight to the chase, Blue tiredly says, “I’ll speak with Joseph again.”

“What changed your mind?” He pauses for a second, before adding hastily, “Not that I’m refusing your help. If anything, I’m relieved that you changed your mind.”

They won’t tell Special Agent Hawthorne about Ethel’s sister; it isn’t their story to tell. Instead, Blue opts for a simple half-truth. “It’s like you said in your voicemail. I can make things right; I want to make things right.”

“I…I understand. Would you like me to pick you up? Or will your friends, Sharky and Hurk, take you to the prison again?”

No one needs to know that they’re visiting Joseph a second time. Blue’s friends will worry, and Blue has scared them enough. “I think it would be best if I came alone this time.”

“Send me your address, and I can pick you up at 10:30 AM on Saturday. Thank you for doing this, Blue. You don’t know how much this means to us.”

“Yeah,” Blue says, having a distinct feeling about what this might mean, I’ll send you a text with my address. See you on Saturday.”

“Have a good night, Blue. Look out for yourself.”

“You too.” Hanging up, a shadow of darkness weighs over them in the dark truck, bearing down heavily on their shoulders.

Peter glances over at Ethel, worried for his wife. She shouldn’t have had to do this, and Peter wishes he could have taken the burden off her. Ethel sits in the passenger seat silently, passively watching Hope County scenery. Breaking the silence, Peter says, “You didn’t have to tell Ranger Murphy about your sister.”

“I did,” She turns to look at him, eyes red and puffy, “It was a gamble, but in the end, I think it will pay off. He was right, Ranger Murphy and Joseph Seed are really alike.”

He grips the steering wheel tightly, indignant anger on Ethel’s behalf coursing through him. “He shouldn’t have assigned you to this. He should have-.”

Ethel’s cell phone rings, cutting Peter off. She quickly pulls the phone from her purse, a brief flicker of panic crossing her face as she scans the caller ID. “It’s him.”

Peter stays silent as Ethel answers the phone. He hears the harsh tone of the caller, unable to make out the conversation. Every minute or so, Ethel says “Yes”, or “Of course”, occasionally wincing as the volume ramps up. By the end of the call, Ethel is visibly stressed, running a hand through her blonde hair. “He’s moving the timetable up.”

“What does that mean?”

Ethel sighs. “We’re going to talk to Joseph. He managed to get us a visit, one that won’t be reported to the FBI. As for Ranger Murphy….”

“He thinks it’s time for them to play their role?”

She nods. “I just hope he knows what he is doing.”

“Me too.”       

Tag list: @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @marivenah, @vampireninjabunnies-blog (If you want to be added or removed, just let me know!)

#Far Cry 5 #FC5 #Joseph Seed #Joseph Seed x Deputy #Joseph Seed/deputy #FC5 OC #fc5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfiction #Blue Murphy #fic: oh the reckoning begins #OTP: I had all and then most of you some and now none of you #the blue fic tag #kate writes #Joseph will appear again in the next chapter #and I think Chapter 8 is going to have action...idk I need to rewrite #anyway I hope you like this one #feeling a little so so on this chapter #death tw #choking tw #violence tw

[laindtt]

Rebirthing

Summary: The young Rachel has finally found a place to rest with her best friend Tracey among a remote community in Montana, and is about to meet for the first time the man who will revolutionize her whole universe.

Word Count: 2563

Warnings: Mention of drugs use

Comments: A lovely fic idea suggested by @i-am-the-balancing-point: “Rachel cleaning up a little after getting away from home and her eyes gaining their sparkle back when she joins the project.” I hope you’ll like it dear ♥ Same for you @deputyash! Thank you for being interested in my writing, you’re gems ♥ 

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, and thus be indulgent ; enjoy your reading everyone!

Soundtrack:  Skillet - Rebirthing (Acoustic)

Masterpost: Can be found under the “Masterpost” tag and here

Credits: Header by gangsterprayer, available here

“And she did not have to ask if this was right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect.” - Patricia Highsmith, Carol

The water was softly running between her bruised fingers, soothing by its freshness both the pulling sensation of her cuts and her tiredness. Vagabond life was not tender for young ladies, but to be honest, life in its whole had never been merciful on Rachel, ever. What some scratches could be to a girl like her? Hand skincare was the least of her concerns, and none of the few luxuries that had brightened her days so far. Her old backpack, so worn out that she had to fix its straps multiple times along the way not to perpetually feel it falling from her shoulders on the ground, contained very few things, modest remnants of what have been left miles and miles behind. You didn’t need expensive creams when all that occupied your mind was survival. You didn’t need to pack all your belongings when your room was filled with cold and suffering. No photos, no keepsakes when family and friends were nothing but cruel ghosts. No regrets, because she had no future, no other option than an eternal run. In fact, her bag was light because it was full of so many agonizing emotions, fear, desperation, doubt, an eager need for something else, anything else. Her plan? Moving forward, as fast and as far as possible, pushed forward by this nearly overwhelming urge to escape all that she’d ever known. Running for her life, without catching her breath, had been devouring her mind with such hunger for so long that the fear of the unknown barely had a grasp on her heart.

In this restless headlong rush, Rachel had benefited from the benevolent comfort offered by her two best friends. Let’s be honest: without Tracey, the only spark of joy so far in her world, she would have never gone this far. The teenager admitted it with a gratitude tinged with fearful awe, as if showing her feelings too openly could scare away her yet bold travel partner: she would have been incapable of planning and embarking on such a runaway life. Her steps would have not crossed the threshold of her house and of her doomed existence, letting her rot there till the very last drop of life in her would have been vampirized. As far back as she could remember, Tracey had always been the more courageous of the two of them, always ready to fight back, always ready to protect her fragile acolyte. Rachel couldn’t help but never cease to be amazed by the profound differences between them, uniting them more than what could be expected at first, like two opposites attracting in a foolproof sorority –at least she was deeply convinced of this. Their friendship was her rock, as much as the driving force of their trip. She had no clue of when all of this would end, nor where they would finally settle down, but the simple thought of sharing a future with Tracey was enough for her, a comforting horizon, regardless of the struggles that they would have to overcome to reach this ideal. Oh dear, dear Tracey, her inspiring shield, her relentless compass… How devastating it was to, from time to time, catching her rolling her eyes because her protege had asked for a umpteenth break as they were walking on the side of an endless road, or begging her not to get into the truck of a driver she has a bad feeling about after hours of unsuccessful hitchhiking session. How saddening her frustrated sighs sounded when all that Rachel wanted was to live up to Tracey’s expectations.

… And that’s where cocaine came into play. Her second best friend, like a second shadow, had been following her and Tracey for quite a while, way before their great escape, another thing the young lady was trying to hide with all her strength, ashamed of always coming back in the arms of her addictions, incapable of not giving in to the siren calls for the soft comfort offered by the white powder and its sisters in arms. When the weather was too harsh, when she felt she had disappointed her role model once more, how could she possibly resist the only thing that could make her feel less useless, more powerful and capable than anything else? Even the dreadful fear of being arrested by the cops and brought back to her parents by force was not terrifying enough to overtake the despair that would be hers if once too often her weakness made Tracey lose her temper, to the point where she would just abandon her and keep going free from this burden. With a little more self-confidence, with a little more boldness and liveliness, she would surely never lose the only person that kept her on track, and luckily, the third-class gas stations interspersing their journey and groups of tramps they’ve met from time to time lacked a lot but rarely of a good soul more than willing to sell her some junk, whichever poison they had actually in store, slowly but surely consuming all the money she had stolen from her parents before fleeing. Maybe one day they would run out of cash and Rachel would feel guilty as hell for having spent so much on these delightful yet addictive sustainers, but Tracey would certainly find a solution, right? Like finding them some odd jobs offered by unscrupulous employers or any other means of subsistence; she had not the slightest doubt about her friend’s capacities to save their bacon.

This little boost was nothing but a temporary helping hand that she would drop as soon as they would have found a definitive shelter, a small secret that would hurt no one, especially not Tracey, because she was absolutely not aware of her mentee’s addictions, was she? If she had ever noticed something, she was kind enough to remain silent about it. Ignorance was bliss, as much as things left unsaid. Their next meal or the next place they would sleep at at night were enough trouble to deal with.

Reflexively, the young woman took a glance at her backpack, as her musing lead her from her pale reflection to the thought of the secret pocket where her precious remedy was hidden: checking on it, even simply by noticing that no one has touched her stuff, calmed her down, silencing her brief and irrational wave of anxiety. She had no reasons to worry at all, she thought: Tracey was sincerely convinced that giving a chance to this remote Montanan community lost in the middle of nowhere was worth it, and once more her sound decision had made their trip more comfortable. Since the day they had settled down in Hope County, Rachel had never ceased to be amazed by the warm welcome given by the group they had joined. Tracey’s enthusiasm about this little congregation called Project at Eden’s Gate had been quite a surprise for her young friend but without a doubt, she couldn’t agree more on the fact that their spirit of community made her want to permanently stay by their side –to her delight, Tracey seemed to share the feeling. No more mistrust as a protective reflex against strangers and their potential faked good intentions, no more walls to keep between them and the rest of the world, no more dangers or threats: this place was like a haven in the storm, and the two young ladies gladly savored each moment spent along with the members of the church. Their church, from now on? Rachel’s heart bubbled with joy: the followers were so kind, so generous! As if a light had been planted in their souls, radiating through their bodies like a seed growing into a beautiful and prolific fruit tree –really the last people who would rifle through her personal effects. Feeling safe somewhere, and not only by Tracey’s side, was something new but more addictive than most of the drugs that used to run through her veins.

“I brought you a towel and a few spare clothes,” trumpeted a sing-sing voice on the doorstep.

Rachel’s smile widened to greet the lady who helped the two newcomers to take their first steps into the Project and move into the dormitories of the Convent, one of the nerve centers of the teeming flock. Her host were so different from the shadows she had left behind – they all were-, a living proof that a different path was possible, not just a never ending absconding.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome. It’s always a pleasure to integrate new novices… I’m so happy to have the chance to lend a hand, it reminds me of my first days here.”

In her eyes, Rachel could easily read that she was reliving her memories, and she wondered what it could feel like, to find so much delight in dwelling on the past. If only one day she was able to do so with as much glee as her…

“And the best is yet to come,” she assured the teen, putting her hand on her forearm. “I’ve heard that the Father himself is going to pay us a visit. How lucky we are!”

The mention of the leader of the Project made her thoughts race, spurred by curiosity: she had only met him a few times during masses, but it was undeniable that the preaching of the founder of their movement had left a deep mark on the young lady. Moved by the messages delivered during those sermons, the delicate passion he put in every intonation and the sheer emotion that ran through the audience, she hadn’t had yet the opportunity to talk to him in a small committee –something Destiny seemed to want to fix on that very same day, nearly making her hold her breath with anticipation. Rachel had never really shared the same dreams as the girls of her age, swooning at the idea of their favorite singer or actor walking into their local grocery store and falling in love with them at first sight while holding a bag of frozen peas; let’s be realistic, no one with some semblance of success would notice someone as ordinary as her. Yet, over the ceremonies, she felt connected to the others present in the chapel, overcome with the exaltation thrilling the people sited by her side, making her tangible, real. And this miracle was due to a voice, a blue stare hidden behind shades so yellow that the eyes they covered were turned green, an inspiring presence that made her discover that she, too, could feel alive in a way she had never experienced, not even with Tracey. And the man able to make this very feeling blossom in so many lost souls was about to visit them? That was all it took to color her cheek with a touch of pink that turned redder with the chuckle of her interlocutor.

“Don’t worry, dear sister. Our beloved Father is impressive, for sure, but he’s a simple man at heart, truly. And taking care of our new brothers and sisters matters a lot to him, you can believe me.”

Could a first impression not work against a poor little timid thing as Rachel? A part of her was burning with the hope that a captivating being like the Father would see something behind the vapid shell that had been her armor for so long, but that had lately started feeling tighter and tighter. Oh, to hear his words of wisdom voiced for her and no one else, some words of encouragement to praise her for all her efforts… Disappointing him during her first one-on-one would be dramatic, and thus, proportionately, her motivation to exist in his world was skyrocketing with the chance to spend time with him alone. The chance of a lifetime.

With a shy nod, she thanked her visitor before staring again at her reflection, checking the paleness of her skin, replacing a curl of hair behind her ear, barely noticing her sister leaving. Her nostalgic abandonment to thoughts chained to the past had its day, now it was time to face her future, to hang on to it as hard as she could. Even her inner voice, trying to convince not to dream too big or not to sink into self-delusion about the possibility to be more than nothing to someone as exquisite as the Father, would not silence her will to shine.

Now fully focused on what she could say and how she could act to be sure to turn this first encounter into something worth remembering, Rachel fell out of time again. For how long did she stay like this, a secret spiral, unbeknownst to the teen, beginning to wrap around her nothing less than a tragic fate? Hard to say, as a deep metamorphosis was also slowly taking possession of her, with consequences that she was so, so far to suspect ; nevertheless, time waited for no man, nor for innocent and determined damsels.

A soft greeting made her startle, promptly turning around with her hair whipping the air.

“Good morning, Rachel. I am glad to finally meet you.”

The lean figure by the door instinctively inspired her confidence: an impeccable white shirt, with a black vest and black borders, was giving him a soothing poise, and his yellow shades were the only touch of color in his outfit, but all that she could perceive in this moment was his warm smile, his presence, his intense yet gentle gaze upon her and only her. If only moments like this could last forever, so that a whole life of struggling leading to them would really be worth it.

“Nice to meet you too, Father...”

So many words were colliding with each other on her mind, on the tip of her tongue: words of thanks, of hope, of admiration, all mixed together and blocked at the gate of her lips. Fortunately, her eyes spoke for her, and a little something in his expression showed that his benevolence had turned both pleased and amused. A small laugh from him would probably have ruined it all, shattering her newborn spirit like hailstones tearing flower petals, but he didn’t mock her manners of debutante; he had so much to give, you see. So much that she wanted to take, while she also had so much that she wanted to give him freely, without any need to make any request.

All it took for that was reaching for her hand.

“Would you like to join me for a stroll?” the Prophet offered, his palm and fingers displayed like a promise for guidance and safety to come, something a fond father did for his child, something her real dad never did for her. “The place is lovely, and we could talk a bit. There are so many things about us I’d like to show you.”

A frantic nod from Rachel sealed the deal, and probably her fate: only a fool would have not let him take the lead. With complete trust, the young lady delicately held his hand and abandoned herself to the irresistible momentum they were sharing, his calloused skin feeling so pleasant against hers.

When they went out, a light breeze caressed her cheeks; the bright sunshine had her close her eyes, her free hand hiding her face from the sun.

All along, she never stopped smiling.

#Joseph Seed #Faith Seed #FC5 fanfiction #Far Cry 5 fanfiction #Personal writing

[direwombat]

🎃🍂 the howling | a witch!sybille x werewolf!jacob au | ~2.1k | ao3 🍂🎃

Sybille had known them for what they were the second she stepped foot inside the church. She would have known them even if the cards and her Sight hadn’t explicitly told her. 

The preacher, as far as she was aware, was human. A warlock tapping into powers he didn’t fully understand, but human nonetheless. His siblings, however -- his Heralds -- were from her world. The immortality, the magic, the curses had hung so thickly in that sweltering chapel, that she could barely breathe. The cloyingly sweet perfume of fey magic radiated from the changeling woman; the darker curses of the preacher’s blood brothers threatened to consume her whole. 

She knew humans, vampires, and changelings. She’d encountered them all walking the streets of her former home of New Orleans. It’d been her coven’s job to make sure everyone behaved, that the tenets outlined in the old treaties are adhered to, and to punish those who broke the rules. 

It was the rougarou that catches her attention. Werewolves tended to avoid the city, preferring to lurk in the surrounding swamps. They were wild, dangerous, and powerful creatures who preferred isolation over interaction. She understood why she would find one in the rugged wilderness of Montana. What she didn’t understand was why he chose to run without the traditional pack. 

The warlock had his acolytes, the vampire had his thralls, and the changeling her indentures. 

But the werewolf was the only one of his kind here. She would smell it if there were any others. Lycanthropy is a particularly potent curse. The overwhelming scent of wet fur and blood would have been offensive were it not undercut with pine, cedar, and just a hint of peppery gunpowder.

She stared past the warlock as he preached of God but satiated the hunger of something much Older. There was something about the rougarou that called out to her blood. They were both servants to the moon, and her magic responded, dancing off her skin, and clearing the clouds from her spirit and preparing her for a Vision. 

His eyes locked on hers, reflecting fiery white light that cut into her like a knife. Whatever she sensed, he felt it too. All of the creatures of the Night stared at her, but it’s the wolf-kin’s gaze that bore down on her with enough intensity to steal the air from her lungs. All she wanted was to walk past the warlock, the man she was supposed to arrest, and stand before the werewolf behind him. Her fingers twitched for the tarot deck humming in her pocket, and she wondered what card she’d pull with him as the question in her mind’s eye. 

She sensed something between them. A connection bound by blood under a full moon. She sensed a future. But whether that connection was made to be severed, whether the future she saw was a good or bad one, she couldn’t tell. Not without touching him. Not without reading the lines of his past and present and tying her threads to his to see how they weave together and intertwine. 

“Cuff him, Rookie,” the Marshall barked, and Sybille was forced back to the human world, where her coworkers remained blind to the power and destiny threatening to tip the cosmic scales off balance. 

She slid the steel cuffs around the warlock’s wrists and she didn’t miss the way the changeling shuddered and recoiled as she did. 

What’s left of that night remains a blur. 

The helicopter went down in a blazing inferno. A wolf’s howl cut through the night, and she ran with the weight of a Cursed One bearing down on her. And right before she lost consciousness as she was dragged from the river, she recalled seeing the blurry outline of a large wolf standing on the bridge and staring down at her, its eyes bright white in the pale moonlight.

***

Sybille avoided venturing into the Whitetails for as long as she possibly could. It wasn’t so much out of fear of the werewolf himself, but rather the fear of what would happen between them. He’d called out to her on long dark nights where she straddled the lines between his territory and those of his brother and sister. It was a long, pure tone that rang out like a bell in the darkness, carrying with it the somber loneliness of a creature waiting for a loved one to return. 

Come home. Come home, he seemed to cry. Why do you run from me?

It sent shivers up her spine. She dipped her hand in the clear waters of the Henbane, demanding it show her the beast that sings for her, but all she gets is the chiming laughter of the changeling and the image of Boomer playing fetch. It was then that she learned that the waters belonged to the fey, just as the air belonged to the vampire and his thralls. The river would give her no answers. 

She must go to the werewolf herself. 

Decked in silver and carrying wolfsbane, she finally embarked on her journey into the mountains. It didn’t take long for him to track her down.  

She stood amidst a copse of trees when she felt his presence, warm and heavy, start circling around her. 

“I know you’re there, wolf-kin,” she said into the darkness.

The wind rustled the leaves around her and it carried with it the scent of wet fur and pine. A low growl vibrated the air and from the trees emerged a massive wolf with piercing blue eyes and fur the color of rust. Sybille’s first thought was that he was beautiful. Her second was that he was terrifying. He stalked towards her, and as he drew nearer, he stood on his hind legs, rising to a towering height. 

She stood up a little straighter, a feeble attempt to look braver than she felt. Trying to hide her fear was futile. He could smell it on her, just how he could hear the way her heart hammered in her chest. “Ah, Big Bad himself,” she said, and she slipped her cherry-wood wand from her sleeve. She held it defensively in front of her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, Goddess born,” the wolf rumbled.

She rolled her eyes at the archaic term. “Witch is fine,” she said. “Though, generally I prefer to be called by my name.”

“You have a tendency to trespass where you don’t belong, Deputy La Roux.”

“You have a tendency to take what isn’t yours, Jacob Seed.”

“I take what I’m owed,” he said and he lifted a large, meaty claw towards her chin. 

Before he could grab her, she flicked her wand with a snap of her wrist. She’d never been a terribly skilled physical caster -- she’d always been more proficient at divination -- but a spell that should have sent her opponent flying away from her only sent him skidding back a few feet. She muttered an incantation, clawing her free hand, and with the gusto of a conductor, tore the roots from the ground beneath him. Gnarling and twisting, she commanded them to wrap around his limbs. She didn’t care for the entitled way he reached for her, but she still had questions. It’d be easier to talk if she could restrain him. 

But he just tore right through them. Raw, animal strength overpowered her roots, and as he shook himself free, he roared, something primordial and angry. He fell back on all fours, his eyes flashing dangerously as he rushed her. 

She ducked and rolled out of the way before he could crash into her, but before he went barreling into the trees, his flank brushed against her arm. A jolt of electricity shot through her, her eyes flying wide open and rolling back into her skull as a Vision seized her. The boughs shook and trees sundered with ear-splitting CRACKs but Sybille heard none of it. 

The future came to her in flashes, fractured pieces like she was viewing it through a broken mirror or scrying glass. But she felt everything. 

Wild heat. 

Fangs and claws digging into, but never piercing, her flesh

The weight of his body against hers and the way he felt, so hot and so big, inside her. 

He claims her from the inside out, and she wraps herself around him, squeezing him tight. She claims her as his, her magic flaring as it entwines with the weighty darkness of his curse, unable to lift, but certainly capable of sharing the burden. 

She landed on her back, the wind knocked from her lungs, as she found herself jolted back to the present. The beast loomed over her, caging her in with his paws on either side of her head. His breath was warm and wet against her face, his teeth bared, lips curled into a ferocious snarl. Her wand lay just out of reach.

She stared up at him, but even in the face of a monster so dangerous, her heart rate slowed. Her hand reaches upwards, her fingers threading into the soft fur of his neck, just below his powerful jaw. “You aren’t going to hurt me,” she said, stating it as the fact it was. He won’t kill her. Won’t sink his teeth into her tender flesh and rip her throat out. She’s his mate. 

He growled, but didn’t argue. 

“You will make me yours,” she said, pulling her hand away and letting it fall back to the ground on the other side of his paw. “But not tonight.”

She remained calm even as Jacob leaned forward, taking the slender column of her neck between his jaws. His teeth brushed against her pulse, making it flutter. With a gasp, her eyes fell shut, and a quiet moan slipped between her lips before she could stop it. She feels the gentle vibrations of another rumble deep in his chest, and he pulls a louder moan as his tongue laps at her sweaty skin, tracing the line of her jugular. 

“It could be tonight,” he said, pulling away from her. He kept her pinned to the ground, looking down at her with a deep, bestial hunger swimming in those piercing blue eyes. “I could take what’s mine.”

“You will take what is given when it is given,” she said firmly. There were rules and rituals that must be observed. She was a witch. He was a werewolf. Historically, courtship hasn’t been easy between their kinds. They must prove their bond worthy under the silver eye of the full moon. “Samhain still approaches. It is on that night that you will face me and prove yourself worthy to be mine. Do this, and only then may you take me.”

“You are my mate,” Jacob snarled. “I will not let you leave.”

“You’re gonna have to eventually, cher,” Sybille said. 

Jacob stared at her for a long moment. “It’s dangerous to walk the Whitetails alone,” he said. “Joseph’s acolytes will leave you alone if I am at your side.”

Sybille pursed her lips and considered his offer. “The night is still young, I suppose. And the Witching Hour has yet to pass. If you promise to behave, perhaps I’ll walk with you. 

He moved off her, allowing her to rise to her feet and circled tightly around her, his tail swishing happily. He pressed as much of himself as he could against her and she had to fight to keep herself from leaning into his warmth. “Climb onto my back. There’s a place I wanna show you.”

She quirked a brow. “You gonna take me to a wide open field so we can play fetch?” she asked

He shot her a side-eyed glare, and she had to stifle a grin because it reminded her of all the times Boomer has given her the same look when she’s faked him out on throws one too many times. “No,” he said. “Just get on.”

Sybille hummed, but acquiesced, gripping his fur and throwing a leg over his back. “This ain’t gonna hurt you, will it?” she asked. Riding on the back of a giant wolf was different from riding bareback on a horse. He shifted beneath her, and she felt herself slipping. 

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured. “Just hold on tight.” 

He didn’t have to tell her twice. He broke into a sprint and she had no other choice but to press herself flat against his back and hold on for dear life. They raced through the trees, branches whipping past, and as Jacob bellowed out another howl, she couldn't help but join him in laughter.

#jacob seed x female deputy #jacob seed x deputy #far cry 5 fanfiction #fc5 fanfiction #jacob seed #happy halloween y'all #this fic infected my brain and i wrote it in like two days #so excuse any mistakes #i just really wanted to get this out in time for halloween #also yes i know that there wasn't a full moon on halloween in 2018 but it was close so whatever #oc: deputy sybille la roux #r: fragile creatures #my fic #wombat writes

[john-anon-athon-seed]

Would anyone be interested in writing requests if I were to open them officially?

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #fc5 fanfiction #john seed x reader #it probably be mainly for johnny boy but perhaps i can be convinced to do the other seeds

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Skelly's Masterlist

Updated to include only fandoms I am actively writing in: Call of Duty, Far Cry 5, Baldur's Gate 3

All my fics can be found on AO3 as well. If you're here for the art you can search #skellysketches (my art tag)

(Please feel free to ask to be tagged for any of my ongoing fics/series, I only ask that you are 18+ and your age is in your bio)

AO3

**All fics considered 18+ - Minors DNI

Ten Years Earlier... (18+ smut)

All Along the Watchtower (Complete)

Evening of Score (Ongoing)

Homecoming (18+ smut)

Injury Kiss prompt

Comfort kiss prompt

Merry Christmas Darling -2023 COD Holiday Challenge (18+ smut)

Protective prompt

American Beasts (Ongoing Fic)

Kakia (Herald/Role Swap AU - Ongoing Fic)

The Animal in Me (Werewolf AU) - *ON HIATUS*

Only You (Soulmate AU) - *ON HIATUS*

The Wolf and the Wildcat (Jacob Seed x Fem!OC)

Wind Me Up (18+ smut)

The Hunt (18+ smut)

The Game (18+ smut)

Prompt: "I told you to stay still" (18+ smut)

Prompt: "I think you lost your underwear somewhere" (18+ smut)

Adaptation (18+ smut)

House Broken (18+ smut)

Great Motivation (18+ smut)

Will to Power (18+ smut)

Reunion Kiss prompt

The Baptist and The Blade (John Seed x Fem!OC)

The Baptist and the Blade (18+ smut)

Just Say Yes (18+ smut)

Temptation (18+ smut)

Absolute Opposites Attract Absolutely (Staci Pratt x Fem!OC)

This is Love (18+ smut)

And When You Move, I'm Moved (18+ smut)

Untitled snippet

#skelly writes #writing masterlist #cod fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #fc5 fanfic #captain john price #jacob seed #john seed #staci pratt #gale dekarios #oc: kit cross #oc: rory sinclair #oc: artemis #ship: you are the sword to my shield #ship: the wolf and the wildcat #ship: moonweaver

[megraen]

Before, I made reaction GIFs just for John, but I've decided to add all the siblings. The following are things I've said while writing my Farcry 5 fanfic

And as a bonus...

@alwayssunnyinedensgate got them done :D

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry #fanfiction #fan fiction #oc: abigail fehn #wip: what we're hunting for #jacob seed #john seed #faith seed #joseph seed #eden's gate #edens gate

[deputylightning19]

I am preaching to the choir when I say @redreart is an AMAZING artist!! I cannot recommend her enough!! This is from a scene in a fanfic that I started awhile back and I'm determined to finish!

"P-Please......." Rook whispered, his eyes hooded in a longing look."

"What was that?" Jacob mockingly asked, as his hand went back to...."

#far cry 5 #farcry #gaming #ubisoft #deputy #fc5 #far cry fanfiction #jacob #jacob seed

[grimmylover7]

Exert from Chapter 1 - Chokehold

Smut: 18+ Only

She was up in the Whitetails for the morning, hunting for rabbits and deer to bring back for everyone. Staci had mentioned he hadn’t had fried deer steak before and at her demands that he was missing out on a damn good time, she’d set out that morning on a mission to correct that atrocity. It also gave her something to do on her day off rather than sit and stew in past pains. She’d already taken down several rabbits, the game tucked away in a cooler in her trunk but she’d yet to find a good buck to shoot. Just some fawns, a few doe’s; nothing she wanted for meat. 

With one last sip of her drink, she slid off the hood and grabbed her rifle, heading back into the brush, determined to find a suitable target. It took some patience and sharp hearing but eventually she stepped out from behind a tree to see a gorgeous buck grazing in a small clearing. At least a sixteen pointer with a quick glance at his antlers. She raised her rifle with a breath, aiming in a split second down the medium scope then pulling the trigger on the exhale. The buck went down gracefully, a clean shot right through the head taking it out quickly. 

She was almost to the kill when a quick movement off to her flank sounded in the brush. Under normal circumstances she would’ve ignored it, no worries to what could be shifting around in the bushes but when a low growl followed it? She tensed. Slowly, carefully, she turned to meet the eyes of a wolf prowled low to the earth, clearly stalking her by the way it bared back its maw to flash its fangs at her. She didn’t move for a moment, simply deciding whether killing it was a good option or if it would leave her alone. She’d wrestled with bears, bobcats and cougars, hell- she even had a particularly horrible nemesis of a wolverine that seemed to find her often. She didn’t have the heart to kill animals idly- only for food. Never for sport. 

The wolf seemed to be gaining the nerve to attack but rather than giving it the chance, she pulled her knife from her thigh holster, never letting her eyes leave the wolves as she stepped backwards towards the buck carcass. Without needing to see her hands, she carved her way through the flank of the deer, noting how the wolf ceased its snarling to instead watch her hands intently. Hungrily. The poor thing looked to be starving once it actually crept from the brush completely. With a huff, she tore off the meat from the back leg then shook it at the wolf to gain its attention from the bulk. 

“Alright. Here ya go.” She tossed the meat across the clearing, the wolf's ears perking up in excitement as it thudded against something unseen, “Now go on– get.” She shooed just as the wolf sprinted after the meat. 

The sound of ravenous chomping filled the quiet morning air a few seconds later, making her smile as she readied to carry the buck back to her Jeep. She was just finishing tying off the bindings when there was another rustle from the bushes, and she half expected the wolf to come traipsing out but instead she was met with a different sight. An unexpected one. 

A mountain of a man stepped from the shrubs instead, a bright red rifle slung over his shoulder and a pistol strapped to his thigh. His red hair, beard and deep inset eyes piercing in the early morning light. He looked as though he’d just glanced back to where the wolf had run to but stopped when his sight landed on her. In a matter of seconds, she realized two very important details as they stared each other down. 

One. He was former military, had to be with the faded army jacket over the bloodied shirt he was wearing. The boots, the knife at his thigh similar to her own. Even the rifle looked to be military grade but personalized. 

Two. His shirt was freshly bloodied. In such a way it looked like he’d been hit by something. 

Her eyes widened just slightly as a slow mortified sensation flooded her, gaining momentum when his eyes narrowed down at the buck at her feet, the missing flank chunk then back to her with a solid glare. It all happened in a matter of seconds but that was all it took– quick to tuck her knife away so she could wipe her hands off and stand to apologize. Not that she got the chance. 

“You make it a habit of hitting strangers with raw meat?” He groused, clearly analyzing her with the way his gaze scanned her from head to toe. Not in a man checking out a woman— more like a predator scoping out prey if she was being specific. The attempt to unnerve her paled in comparison to her struggle to not crack up at what she’d done to him. 

“No. Gotta say, you’re the first…” She tried valiantly not to grin, biting her bottom lip just slightly as his gaze fell flat at her. Unimpressed but thankfully not pissed like she worried. 

“Not even remorseful about it either.” He shook his head, a twitch of a smirk showing behind that beard of his making her huff out a short laugh she tried to cover up. 

“Shit. Nope. You caught me-- I am sorry though just… fuck, of all the places you could’ve been you were really in a bad spot.” She snorted. 

“No regrets you launched a wolf at me then?”

She wanted to say yes. To apologize for that too but instead she made a point to look him over, all 6’2 of him with obvious muscle and hands that clearly held his guns often. He was scarred enough to show he’d been through some shit too, definitely worse than a measly wolf jumping him in the shrubs. Instead, she smirked out right. 

“Hmm...nah. You look like you can handle yourself.” 

He let out a bark of a laugh at that then, the two of them sharing a moment between strangers that had her feeling warmer in the chilly morning air. With a chuckled agreement, he was sauntering back his own way through the woods, the two of them exchanging a simple goodbye leaving her to finish with her morning hunting. 

Yeah. She was definitely enjoying Hope County. 

Another month went by, instances passing with her, Victor, Joey and Staci managing to have all sorts of wild times between the four of them with only Whitehorse to give a shake of his head at their antics. Between getting to catch up with Victor, settling into her new home and enjoying her new job, Rook felt more alive than she had in ages. Even more so when she went out hunting and seemingly always stumbled across the same giant mountain man she’d decidedly labeled “lumberjack”. Every so often when she was out, there he was too, the same red rifle taking out his own kills or meandering the woods like a predator himself.

At first, they had yet to share more than a few simple words between them on occasion, but somehow that was more than enough to get a feel for who he was. 

“Ah I see you’re still here.” She hummed, stumbling upon him first this time.

“Foods not gonna put itself on the table.” 

“True that.”

“I saw that shot from across the field. Nice.” He said in passing, already traipsing through with his own kill.

“Thanks. Woah, damn that’s a big buck.”

“Yeah, got him just a bit ago. Gotta get him back to my truck.”

“Trying to one up me, lumberjack?”

“Ha, not much to take on, shortstack.” 

Their most recent run-in had changed things though, the moment happening while she was out and about on the eastern border where the Henbane brushed with the Whitetails. 

She’d just managed to find a good lookout point when out of nowhere her arch nemesis of a wolverine found her and went on the attack immediately. She was so surprised she’d yelped and been barreled over by the damned thing, rolling through the bushes wildly to try and wrangle the beast. 

Several scratches and attempted bites later, she had the bastard by the scruff and front legs, holding him away with a scowl on her face as she trudged through the trees to a clearing. Her breaths were heavy in an attempt to simmer down her anger at the little fucker so she didn’t strangle it, but also to focus so she could keep a firm grip, so it didn’t escape. Needless to say, she was far more keyed up than she should’ve been that early in the morning, causing her to snap. Just a little. At a Wolverine no less. 

“Look here you angry little shit— I don’t appreciate you stalking me, attacking me! Go fuck with someone else!” She hissed, shaking the vermin threateningly and about to scold it some more until someone cleared their throat behind her. 

“Huh… Can’t say I’ve ever seen someone get after a wolverine before… Or catch one like that.” Lumberjack was back, deep voice filling the air along with a hearty chuckle that had her turning just enough to glare at him too. 

“This little bastard has been after me since I moved here. He even followed me up from Holland Valley just to jump me today!” She scowled, shooting her fierce gaze back at the hissing beast. 

“How do you know it’s the same one…? They’re all pretty rabid.” The man snorted, coming closer to inspect the creature at her side. 

“You see the scar on the top of his head? That was from me. I got him with a rock the first time we crossed paths.” Rook’s glare simmered down a little more after that and the Wolverine seemed to follow, realizing it was not going anywhere in her firm hold and would have to bide it’s time to escape. Lumberjack let out a low whistle. 

“Well damn, how many times has he come after you?” Their eyes met, her face flushing just the slightest from his pale gaze. Up close he was quite a looker past the menacing look he displayed but she wasn’t about to start thinking that train of thought. Not this early in the morning anyways, and certainly not with a damn pest in her hands. 

“This is the eighth time.” She grumbled. 

“Why not just kill it then? Would save you the trouble.” The man shrugged, eyeing the creature blankly without a hint of fear normal people would show for such a thing. She shared that sentiment. She wasn’t quite normal herself either and wasn’t the slightest bit phased by rabid animals in the forest. She’d throw down with a moose if she had to, without batting an eye. There were just some strange things you had to accept in life.

“Despite what the military trains us to believe, sometimes there’s better answers than killing an enemy.” She sighed, shooting the thing a petulant look. She didn’t know what that better answer was, per se, but she hoped she found it before she cracked the fuckers head open. 

Lumberjack remained silent, merely regarding her intently in a way that had her flush creeping its way down her neck and chest. She didn’t want to acknowledge that though so instead, she tightened her hold before moving away, readying herself to give a tight spin before launching the wolverine several yards away into the far trees and field, where it would hopefully fuck off for a while. The noise it made as it flew through the air had her positive that it may just finally do that– a high pitched screech that left her and lumberjack shooting each other scrunched looks for a long moment. They were bursting into loud laughter in seconds, never having heard such a noise from an animal but it also wasn’t everyday Rook decided to launch one either. 

That was as good an icebreaker as any and had somehow led to them walking together, despite still hunting their own prey. Not that she minded. She didn’t even know his name, but it felt comfortable around him, easy to talk to even though he was blunt and sarcastic, meeting her own quips head-to-head. 

They wandered all over together that morning, exchanging hunting stories, shooting game together and shit talking about each other's shooting skills when they’d seen the other up close. He was damn good with a rifle. She wasn’t even confident on who the better marksmen was at that point but she didn’t rightfully care, only interested in seeing more of it. The way he pressed the butt of the gun to his shoulder, one eye sliding shut to gaze down the scope. The same breathe in, aim, exhale, shoot she learned reflected in his shots but just a slight bit faster. It was definitely just the method, not the look of his face and how handsome he was while in the zone. Handsome in a burly, rugged sort of sense too, which was right in line with the kind of man she’d learned was her type (aka the opposite of the kind of man her ex-husband was). Plenty of times he’d caught her staring when it happened, but she’d tried her best to act like it was nothing; even more so when she noticed his intense gaze mimicking her own when she went to shoot her marks. 

By the time noon hit, they were making their way back to where her Jeep sat parked, strands of conies bundled in their hands and a buck over his shoulder that she’d killed before he could pop off the shot first. She’d agreed to split it though, just because the look he’d shot her when she teased him was so worth it. 

“Bet you don’t even know how to skin a deer properly, shortstack. Can you even reach it when it’s strung up?” He snarked, clearly taunting her right back in a way that had her rolling her eyes at him. 

“Been doing it since I was five, lumberjack. Probably can do it better than you.” She threw back, leading the way to the trunk of her Jeep, him hot on her heels. 

“That a challenge?” He gruffed.

His voice had gone deeper, rolling low in her ears and gut, making her head spiral. Jesus– she hadn’t had urges like the ones he gave her since she was nineteen. Shaking it off, she glanced back with a coy look, brow twitching up just enough to make it clear she was still teasing. 

“Why? Wanna get your ass handed to you?”

There was a tension in the air that followed her words, bubbling under the surface as he dropped the buck onto the tailgate along with his strands of rabbits. She set her own down too, merely busying herself with the motions of getting stuff loaded up but actively feeling his heated gaze on her the whole time. Simmering. Heating her up from the inside. The chilly morning air did nothing to tame the heat that rushed her cheeks, hoping it just seemed brought on by the hiking and not by him. He must’ve been able to read her better than she thought. 

“You’re a mouthy brat, aren’t you?” He rumbled, somewhere just behind her right ear. The growl to his voice had her core fluttering wildly, breath catching just the slightest. She wasn’t sure if he was just commenting or… flirting. The only way to find out was to test the waters but fuck she hadn’t flirted since she was a teenager. Ever since the horrible mistake that had landed her with, she hadn’t dated since– too much trauma, too much sadness to think about it– but here? Now? She could want for it now. 

“Always… Got a problem with it?” Her voice was breathy, glancing over her shoulder just slightly to eye him. Sharp blue eyes were waiting to find her gaze, intense and heated as they observed her. 

“Oh no... I’m skilled at taming wild animals, you’d be no different.” He murmured, closing in on her just enough that she could feel him at her back, pressing her to the tailgate. Testing the waters too. Inching ever so slightly into the mood they were making. 

“I’d love to see that.” She huffed, on the edge of a soft laugh but it died in her throat as he pressed into her fully, trapping her against the trunk and allowing her to feel every inch of him at her back. All hard edges and muscle, solid and big, encasing her form and making her breath hitch out of her chest. Fuck. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet, if ever, nor the last time she’d had sex, but her libido was on overdrive at the feel of him. She didn’t even know his goddamn name but couldn’t care less, just knowing she had a giant lumberjack behind her, and he was definitely interested in her climbing him like a tree. 

Which... is exactly what she did. 

She’d yanked him into the backseat of her Jeep the second he kissed her, both fumbling into the other like starved teens. There wasn’t even time to completely strip– just feral grinding and hands tugging at clothes impatiently. Her tank top was pushed down just below her breasts, bra unclasped by quick fingers then tossed while his jacket was shucked off and his jeans and belt undone with her own nimble touch. It was completely rushed and crazy, but she felt she’d earned such a wild spur of the moment tryst after all this time so, she went with it. Especially when it meant she got to enjoy him fingering her skillfully to her first orgasm in ages. Then a second when she got his pants down just far enough to ride him like her life depended on it. To say it was a good ride would be blasphemous. He’d rocked her entire world (and her poor Jeep) that day. Grabbed her by the hair, fucked her silly on his stupidly thick dick and praised her through the whole thing in a way that had her thighs quaking for days afterwards. Or maybe that was thanks to the second round, when he’d flipped her to the side and fucked her into the seat with deep punishing thrusts that had her seeing stars and howling for the whole woods to hear her. Every inch of skin he’d had access to had been left in bites and bruises, no part of her chest spared leaving her with plenty of good memories to keep that flutter going. 

Whatever the case, he’d added an even brighter warmth to her new life, and it seemed like the hell of her past was finally letting her go up in the north. She warmed at the memory from two days prior, the last part of their meeting being the highlight really. 

“I think I’ll take your word on those skills, lumberjack.” She’d panted, still trying to get her wits about herself while he nipped at her neck with a soft hum. 

“Jacob.” He rumbled, pressing his nose into her neck almost like a nuzzle that had her melting into mush. 

“Mm pleasure to see you in action, Jacob.” She said cheekily, enjoying the way he pulled back to shoot her a heated look. 

“You got a name, shortstack?” He huffed, nipping at her bottom lip before kissing her a few more times to leave her dazed and unfocused. 

“Call me Rook.” 

She melted a little more into her seat. Life was finally starting to go well for her. "

#far cry 5 #jacob seed #ao3 #fanfiction #chokehold #fc5 fanfic #smut

[kittycatlukey]

FAR CRY 5 EDIT

Joseph being the father figure John and Jacob always needed. <3

@alewesker

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry 5 edit #fc5 jacob seed #Jacob seed #John seed #fc5 john seed #joseph seed #fc5 joseph seed #the father #fc5 the father #fc5 faith seed #faith seed #far cry 5 fanart #far cry 5 screenshots #far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry five #far cry five deputy #far cry 5 deputy #fc5 oc #fc5 fanart #fc5 fic #fc5edit #fc5 screenshots #fc5 fandom #fc5 meme #fc5 fan art #fc5 photomode #fc5 fanfic

[aceghosts]

A Christmas Miracle for the Spread Eagle

Summary: When Mary May is potentially in danger of losing the Spread Eagle, the Deputy comes up with an idea to save the Spread Eagle.

A Pre-Reaping Oneshot.

Words: 4,681 words

Content Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death and violence. Otherwise, this is extremely fluffy.

Author’s Note: SURPRISE!!!! This oneshot is for @beemot as part of @natesofrellis FC5's secret Santa. Julia, I really hope you enjoy this! Also, I hope you had a wonderful holiday! I really loved writing for the Deputy and Mary May. And Amanda, thank you for letting me participate!

Also, this is slightly canon divergent from the timeline of FC5.

              Closing the door of her Police Cruiser, Vasilisa swallows nervously, excitement rising in her chest. She heads towards the Spread Eagle, eager to see a certain bartender and get out of the Montana cold. Opening the door, Vasilisa steps into the bar, greeted by the scent of alcohol, pine trees, and Casey’s cooking. As the door closes behind her, Vasilisa catches sight of the one woman she is here to see: Mary May Fairgrave. Every time she sees Mary May, Vasilisa feels butterflies in her stomach, anxious and ecstatic at the same time. Mary May looks away from one of the Spread Eagle’s regular patrons, her blue eyes meeting Vasilisa’s. Mary May smiles, breathtakingly beautiful in Vasilia’s eyes as she waves her over. “DEP! Got a spot for you right here!”

              Vasilisa laughs, familiar with the spot that Mary May motioned to. She sits on the same bar stool every time she comes to the Spread Eagle. Located near the tap and where May May cleans her glasses, Vasilisa and Mary May spend hours talking about anything and everything between orders for drinks and food. Sometimes, Vasilisa even sketches while here. Although, she is a little nervous to show off her sketches, most of which are of Mary May. Walking over to her reserved stool, Vasilisa shrugs off her jacket and hands it to Mary May before sitting. Mary May takes her jacket, hanging it behind the bar for safekeeping. “How’s the Spread Eagle tonight? Is anyone causing you trouble?”

              Smirking, Mary May teases, “Why? You gonna play hero cop and throw them out for me?”

              “If I have to.”

              She laughs, a warm and delightful sound to Vasilisa’s ears. “Everyone’s been on their best behavior. Or at least, they’re causing trouble somewhere else besides the Spread Eagle.”

              “I think they’re scared of what will happen if they try to mess with the Spread Eagle,” Vasilisa teases back.

              “The Deputy is right!” Casey pipes up from the kitchen as Vasilisa lets out another laugh.

              “As they should be!” Mary May grows somber, looking away as her tone becomes serious. “Just wish the Peggies were as scared as some of the other folk in Hope County.”

              Ah, The Peggies; the perpetual thorn in the side of Hope County. It was an open secret in Hope County that the Peggies aimed to claim all the land in Hope County for their cult. The Seeds, John especially, had made it quite clear that the Spread Eagle was towards the top of their list of places to acquire. Vasilisa didn’t know what Eden’s Gate planned to do with the Spread Eagle, but it couldn’t be good. However, the day had been good so far, and Vasilisa wasn’t about to let a few Peggies ruin her night with Mary May. She takes Mary May’s hand, warm and calloused, into her own hand. Mary May’s soft blue eyes widen as she raises her eyes to Vasilisa. Squeezing Mary May’s hand softly, she promises, “The Peggies aren’t going to get their hands on the Spread Eagle. I promise.”

              Mary May softens a bit, squeezing Vasilisa’s hand back. “Guess I can count on at least one cop helping me out in Hope County.” Her tone conveys no venom, only weariness and a slight sliver of hope.

              She swallows, understanding Mary May’s reluctance to trust the police of Hope County. Most days, it seems like Hope County’s Sheriff's Department is unable, or perhaps, unwilling to stop Eden’s Gate. As Vasilisa opens her mouth to comfort Mary May, the door to the Spread Eagle opens, a frigid gust of Montana winter winds rolling in. Looking over her shoulder, Vasilisa catches sight of John Seed stepping into the bar with a cocky smirk on his face. A sense of dread washes over her, knowing he must be here to cause trouble. Many of the other patrons glare at John, quieting their conversations or stopping altogether. What was once a previously friendly and welcoming atmosphere has now turned cold and hostile as John walks up to the bar. “Mary May,” He greets, a shudder running over Vasilisa, “How is the Spread Eagle tonight? Seems rather quiet.”

              Mary May glares at him, pulling her hand away from Vasilisa. She reaches down behind the bar for the hidden shotgun, the one reserved for worst-case scenarios. Vasilisa leans over the bar, quickly grabbing Mary May’s wrist, stopping her. “Don’t,” She mouths quietly, not wanting Mary May to get in trouble. Besides, it would give John Seed exactly what he is looking for: more fuel for Eden Gate's supposed persecution by the folks of Hope County. Mary May sighs, relenting as Vasilisa releases her wrist. Standing up, Mary May asks in a clipped tone, “What do you want, John?”

              “Is that anyway to greet a potential customer? Service must really be going down the drain at the Spread Eagle,” He turns his gaze to Vasilisa, “What do you think, Deputy?”

              She glares at John, staring him dead in the eyes. Vasilisa has never been bothered by his attempts to intimidate her; something John hates. “The service here is really good. If you get shitty service every time you come, you might be the problem.”

              John’s smirk falls off his face as Casey attempts to stifle a snort of laughter in the kitchen. “Well, good taste is an acquired skill, something most aren’t acquainted with. Perhaps, you require a demo-.”

              “Just get to the point John, so you can get the hell out of my bar,” Mary May snarls at him.

              He tsks at her, that stupid smirk returning. “So impatient,” John chides in fake disappointment as if he isn’t enjoying every second of this, “If you are so eager to get to the point, I wondered if you had given any more thought to my offer.”

              Vasilisa raises an eyebrow. What the hell was John Seed talking about? What offer? “I have,” anger flashes in Mary May’s eyes, her temper getting the better of her, “and you can shove it up your ass.” Pointing towards the door, she yells, “NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BAR!”

              Hopping off her seat, Vasilisa stands, ready to escort John out if he won’t comply with Mary May’s demands. “I can tell when I’m not wanted,” John announces dramatically, turning and heading towards the door. He stops at the door, hand on the handle before looking back over his shoulder at Mary May and Vasilisa. “I wonder how long the Spread Eagle has, before you’ll have to seriously consider my offer.” With that final threat, he leaves. Everyone sighs in relief, but a slight tension still hangs in the air.

              Turning towards Mary May, Vasilisa asks, “What was he talking about?”

              Pulling the blue towel off her right shoulder and placing it on the bar, Mary May turns to Casey. “Keep an eye on the bar for a minute, will you?” He nods, and Mary May motions for Vasilisa to follow her. They go to the second floor of the Spread Eagle, entering one of the storage rooms. Leaning against the wall, Vasilisa waits patiently as Mary May tries to gather her words. “John Seed wants to buy the Spread Eagle,” She starts, crossing her arms over her chest.     

               “He’s always wanted to buy the Spread Eagle. What’s changed?”    

              She sighs, looking away from Vasilisa. “Ever since Eden’s Gate came to Hope County, business around Hope County has started to slow. Between the violence and the conversions, no one wants to be the next target of Eden’s Gate, which means they don’t go out as often. Bills are starting to pile up,” Mary May sniffles, tearing up at her next words, “I promised Dad I’d take care of the Spread Eagle. It’s the last thing I have left of him, and…”

              Vasilisa walks over to Mary May as she uncrosses her arms. She pulls Mary May into her arms, allowing Mary May to bury her face into Vasilisa’s chest. As she hears soft sniffles, Vasilisa promises, “We’ll find a way to save the Spread Eagle; I promise.”

              Mary May shakes her head, looking up at Vasilisa. “No, I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll find a way to take care of the Spread Eagle. It’ll be over my dead body that John Seed owns this place.”

              “Please let me-.”

              “No,” Mary May shakes her head, “I’ll figure it out.” Vasilisa’s heart breaks. She wants to help Mary May out in any way she can, especially if it means saving something as important as the Spread Eagle. Vasilisa will let Mary May think this issue is solved, but she will figure something out.

--

              Mary May and the Spread Eagle haunt her thoughts as Vasilisa goes about her week at the station. Joey and Staci poke good-natured fun at her, gently teasing Vasilisa about her head in the clouds. She smiles back, teasing them in her own way. Later that week in the early evening, Vasilisa stops by Jerome’s church, checking on the Pastor. Jerome is a good man, someone who cares deeply for his community, and a friend that Vasilisa feels she can be honest with. When she enters the Church, Jerome instantly seems to notice that something is on her mind. “Deputy, you seem preoccupied. Would you like to talk?”

              Vasilisa nods, sitting down next to him in the front pew. It is the two of them alone in the Church, and Vasilisa doesn’t worry that anyone will interrupt them. Especially Mary May, who is busy with the Spread Eagle. “I have a friend, who is in trouble.”

              “You are worried about your friend.”

              “I am.” Vasilisa tightens her fist, angry at Eden’s Gate for the hell they’re putting Mary May through. “She hasn’t joined Eden’s Gate, but she is in danger of losing something important, the last thing that ties her to someone she loved.”

              She catches a flash of recognition in Jerome’s warm brown eyes. “This is about Mary May, isn’t it?”

              Vasilisa sighs. “Yes, how did you know?”

              “Mary May seems troubled when I talk to her lately. She wouldn’t tell me what, but it was easy to tell. Is the Spread Eagle in trouble?”

              “Yeah.”

              “And Mary May is insisting that she can handle it herself?”

               Vasilisa unclenches her fist, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Why won’t she let me help her? I want to help her,” Her shoulders drop, her hands coming to rest by her side, “Mary May is really important to me. I just wish she would let me help her.”

              “It is difficult to accept help, Deputy, especially from those we love. Mary May feels that she has to do everything alone now that her father is gone, especially when it comes to the Spread Eagle,” Jerome tilts his head, studying Vasilisa, “It can be difficult to accept help from people we don’t want to disappoint.”

              “Mary May wouldn’t disappoint me if she needed help.” If Mary May needed help, Vasilisa would drop whatever she was doing. She cared too much for Mary May to let her struggle alone; She didn’t want Mary May to struggle alone. “I wish I could help Mary May without her knowing that I was helping her.”

              Jerome hums thoughtfully, looking pensive. The Church is silent around them, a calming presence falling over Vasilisa. Yet, she can’t help but think of Mary May and how heartbroken she looked at the idea of selling the Spread Eagle. “What if we helped others in addition to Mary May?”

              Vasilisa perks up. “Great idea, Jerome! How would we make Mary May feel like we aren’t helping only her?”

              “We should involve the whole community, something like the Testy Festy.”

              An idea pops into her head, and she smiles at Jerome. “I have an idea. Before I came to Hope County, one of the towns I worked in had a Christmas Festival every year. Local Businesses would get involved as an advertising opportunity. If we held a Christmas Festival, it wouldn’t involve just the Spread Eagle, but everyone else.”

               He nods. “I think that would work, Deputy. We could host the Festival in Fall’s End, make sure that people feel safe here. Virgil should be willing to help me with the last-minute paperwork; he owes me a favor. Plus, he’ll want something to distract everyone from Eden’s Gate.”

              “And Sheriff Whitehorse wouldn’t mind providing security. We could even ask Eli and his militia to work with us as an extra pair of hands.”

              “Good idea, Deputy. We should focus on our some more famous locals, might be easier to get others involved if they know local leaders are participating. I’m sure the Ryes would be willing to do something for the Festival. People trust them.”

              “Agreed, and we should talk to Rae-Rae too. Everyone loves Boomer, and I bet they would love to take Christmas photos with him.”

              “I agree, and we can talk to Mary May once we have others involved. She might feel more comfortable participating after hearing about others.”

              “Thanks, Jerome,” Vasilisa smiles at him, “I couldn’t do this without your help. If you need anything, I owe you one.”      

              He shakes his head. “We’re friends, Deputy; you don’t owe me anything. We have an obligation to help our community in our time of need, and Mary May is a good friend of mine. Hope County would be a lesser place without the Spread Eagle.”

              “That it would be.” The idea of a Hope County without Mary May breaks Vasilisa’s heart.

--

              Vasilisa’s first visit is to the Rye family. Nick and Kim eagerly welcome Vasilisa into their home, ushering her out of the brutal cold. When she brings up the Festival, Nick is hesitant, worried about putting his family in danger. However, Kim is the one who convinces him. “Come on, Nick! The community has done so much for Rye & Sons. I think we can return the favor.”

              Nick sighs, understanding his wife’s point of view. “She’s right, Deputy,” He shakes Vasilisa’s hand in agreement, “Hope County has done a lot for Rye & Sons, and we’re willing to return the favor.”

              Her second visit is to Rae Rae’s Pumpkin Farm. Boomer meets her at her Police Cruiser, jumping up in excitement as Vasilisa steps out. She scratches him behind his ear, following Boomer to the front door of Rae Rae’s house. She lets Vasilisa in, laughing a little at Boomer’s antics. “He really likes ya, Deputy. Says something good about you; Boomer is a real great judge of character.”

              When Vasilisa brings up the Festival, Rae Rae isn’t willing to participate at first. She bites her lip, worried about what her participation might mean. Boomer, laying his head on Rae Rae’s lap, whines, looking up at her with pleading brown eyes. Rae Rae smiles softly at her beloved Boomer, patting him on the head. Looking up at Vasilisa, Rae Rae jokes, “Well, how can I say no to Boomer, Deputy?” Boomer immediately barks happily, jumping for joy as his tail wags furiously. Vasilisa makes a mental note to bring Boomer the good treats next time.

              Eventually, Vasilisa and Jerome visit the Spread Eagle about participating in the Christmas Festival. Standing outside the Spread Eagle, Vasilisa feels nervous, her stomach twisting in knots. She doesn’t know why; Maybe, it’s because she so desperately wants all of this to go right. “Nervous, Deputy?” Jerome asks, noticing her nerves.

              Vasilisa nods. “A little bit.”

              “Mary May will want to participate. I’m sure of it.”

              “I know; I’m just…”

              “Worried?” Vasilisa nods, and Jerome places his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Mary May won’t find out that we’re doing this specifically for her.”

              “Okay.” She and Jerome step into the Spread Eagle, greeted by warm air and the smell of beer.

              As the pair approach the bar, Mary May looks up from the glass she is cleaning, a smirk on her face. “So, what’s this I hear about a Christmas Festival?”

              “It’s a Fundraiser for businesses in Hope County…” Jerome starts the pitch, sitting on one of the stools.

              “A lot of local businesses are going to participating.” Vasilisa finishes, hopping onto the stool, next to him.

              Mary May looks between the two, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “Like who?”

              “Gardenview Orchards is providing apples for an Apple Bobbing contest, and they’ll serve some caramel apples and apple cider.” He takes the beer Mary May slides him, giving her a silent nod of thanks before taking a sip.

              “Rae Rae and Boomer will be there too. Boomer is going to be wearing a Santa hat and taking photos with people. Rae Rae says he looks very cute in his Santa hat,” Vasilisa adds as Mary May slides her a beer, “The Ryes are going to participating too.”

              “Is this the part where you ask me to participate as well?”

              “Only if you want,” Vasilisa takes a sip of her beer, “I think it would be a good idea. You could remind everyone that the Spread Eagle is part of their community, part of their home.”

              “The Deputy is right,” Casey chimes in from the back, peeking through the window with a friendly wink, “Might encourage people to start coming to the Spread Eagle again. We could always put out more seating, give people a place to get warm.”

              Mary May throws him a friendly glare over her shoulder. “When did I start asking you for business advice?” She asks jokingly, shaking her head.

              “You know I’m right!” Casey disappears, presumably back to cooking.

              “He has a point,” Jerome mentions before taking a sip of his beer.

              She sighs. “And what about the Peggies? You really think they’re going to let us have a night to ourselves?”

people from the Militia to help with security,” Vasilisa takes Mary May’s hand into her own, savoring the warm feel of Mary May against her own, “We’re not going to let the Peggies derail this. If they come, they’ll have to follow the same rules as everyone else.”

              “You make it sound so easy.”

              Vasilisa shrugs. “I just think it would work against them to cause trouble at something like this.”

              “She has a point,” Jerome nods, “The Peggies would likely drive people further away.”

              Mary May sighs, relenting. “Okay, the Spread Eagle will be part of the Christmas Festival. We can provide food, beer, and a place to stay warm,” She looks down at Vasilisa’s hand in hers, giving Vasilisa’s hand a gentle squeeze, “I hope this Festival turns out the way you want it to.”

--

              For the next few weeks, Vasilisa is busy planning the Festival. She hopes everything will go perfectly, that this won’t be ruined. Hope County needs something to go right, and if this Festival goes off perfectly, everyone in Hope County will feel better. The night before, Jerome places a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Everything will work out, Deputy, especially with all the hard work you put in.”

              Vasilisa shrugs off the compliment. “I think the real credit goes to you, Jerome. I don’t think I would have succeeded without your connections or patience for paperwork.”

              “I don’t think people would have joined without you convincing them, Deputy. The people of Hope County like and respect you, don’t underestimate that.”

              “How about we split the difference? 50/50?”

              Jerome laughs. “Deal.”

--

              Mary May grumbles to herself as she leaves the comforting warmth of the Spread Eagle, beer in her gloved hand. She should be behind the bar, tending to all the patrons. Instead, Casey, and an occasional waitress for the Spread Eagle, Whitney, practically pushed her out the door, saying, “Say hello to the Deputy for us, Mary May.” She shakes her head, trying to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. The Deputy is a good friend, the best kind of friend. Collected, Calm, and Decisive, the Deputy is the kind of person you can rely on when shit hits the fan. Dad would have really liked her.

              As she wanders through the Festival, Mary May catches sight of a few familiar faces. Behind a DJ booth, Wheaty, one of the local teenagers and a Whitetail, is playing Christmas music while chatting some girl up. She sees Joey Hudson and Staci Pratt, two of the Deputy’s coworkers, laughing at something that Adelaide Drubman is saying. Probably something raunchy. Eventually, she passes by the location for photos with Boomer. He sits between two children, smiling as he gets his photo taken with both. Mary May wonders if the Deputy will get her photo taken with him. It amazes her how quickly Boomer attached himself to the Deputy, marking her as his second favorite human after Rae Rae.

              Taking a sip of her beer, Mary May finds Jerome and Sheriff Whitehorse, chatting with each other. She joins them, giving them a friendly smile. Sheriff Whitehorse nods in greeting while Jerome asks, “How is the Spread Eagle doing tonight?”

              “Good, lots of Hope County folk coming in for beer and food,” She replies, remembering how full it was when she left, which means she should get back to the Spread Eagle soon “Are you two enjoying the Festival?”

              “I’m having a good time,” Sheriff Whitehorse responds with a small smile, “Folks are staying out of trouble, and the Peggies are leaving us alone. Couldn’t ask for a better night.”

              “Good. I was afraid the Peggies might start causing trouble.” She takes another sip of her beer.

              “I think even the Peggies understand that is a night of Peace.” Jerome states as the conversation lulls into silence.

              Taking another sip of her beer, Mary May’s mind wanders to the Deputy. What is she doing now? Dealing with some lost Festival goers? She hopes she might catch a glimpse of the Deputy, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen. Turning to Jerome, she says, “Thanks for pulling this together, Jerome. The Spread Eagle might have a real chance with what you’ve done.”

              Jerome smiles at her, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “I appreciate the thanks, but I can only take partial credit. The Deputy came up with the idea; I just helped her put it together.”

              “What do you mean it was her idea?”

              Jerome sighs, starting carefully. “The Deputy was worried after talking to you about the Spread Eagle. So, she was the one who came up with the idea of the Festival, something to help everyone in Hope County.”

              “Including the Spread Eagle.”

              “Including the Spread Eagle,” Jerome confirms, watching her carefully. Mary May grips her beer tightly. A part of her is a little too proud to have ever needed this. Yet, Mary May understands what the Deputy has done for her. The Spread Eagle is one of the few places that Mary May has any real attachment to; it’s her home. And the Deputy put this together to protect her home; she did this for Mary May. Her cheeks heat up, a lump in her throat. “Mary May, the Deputy did this out of the kindness of her-.”

              “I know,” Mary May’s voice is thick with emotion, “Sheriff, do you know where the Deputy is?”

              “Over by the Ryes. She’s helping with the crowd control.” Sheriff Whitehorse points in the direction of the Ryes and their plane. “The Deputy should have a break coming up soon.”

              “Thanks.” Mary May leaves them, heading over toward the Ryes and their setup. Nick Rye is doing short flights in his plane over the snow-covered forests of Holland Valley. As she walks toward the line of people waiting their turn, Mary May suddenly finds herself unsure of what she will say. After everything the Deputy has done, how can she thank her? Her Dad would probably tell her to speak from the heart, be honest. Great Advice, Dad. Chugging down the rest of her beer, Mary May tosses it into a recycling bin, catching sight of the Deputy with Steve, a member of the Whitetail militia, and Kim Rye. “Hey.” Mary May waves at the three, nervous.

              “Hey Mary May!” Steve waves with a friendly smile on his face.

              “How’s it going at the Spread Eagle?” Kim asks, happy to see her. The Deputy waves in greeting, shooting Mary May a warm smile.

              “Good. Busy. Seems like you’re busy too.”

              “It is, but I like it that way,” Kim replies, glancing between Mary May and the Deputy, “Anything we can help you with?”

              Turning towards the Deputy, Mary May takes a deep breath. “I was hoping I could speak privately with you, Dep.”

              The Deputy glances over at Kim and Steve, who both nod in approval. “We’ll survive without you, Deputy,” Steve says, “Don’t you have a break coming up soon?”

              Nodding, the Deputy replies, “Let’s go, Mary May.” If she wasn’t so nervous herself, Mary May would think that the Deputy sounded equally as nervous. The two walk beside each other, making their way toward a private corner of the Festival silently. When the Deputy finds a small corner for them to talk in, she asks, “What did you want to talk about?”

              “Thank you.”

              A look of brief confusion crosses the Deputy’s face before she realizes what Mary May is thanking her for. “Mary May, I-.”

              “Deputy,” She cuts them off, not wanting the Deputy to apologize, “Don’t apologize. I should apologize for being so stubborn.”

              “You don’t have to apologize for being stubborn. I like that about you.” The Deputy’s cheeks heat up at that admission. “And you still don’t have to thank me.”

              “But I do.” Mary May is facing her now, aware of how secluded they are. “After my brother and Dad died, the Spread Eagle was one of the only things I had left. I thought I might lose it. Then, you put this together,” Her throat tightens, tears burning at the corner of her eyes, “And you’re giving the Spread Eagle and I a second chance.”

              The Deputy steps closer, only a few inches from Mary May. “I know how important the Spread Eagle is to you. After John came in that day, all I could think about was how devastating it would be for you to lose the Spread Eagle. I couldn’t stand by and just let that happen. I wanted to help you…I wanted to see you happy.” She sounds so soft and vulnerable at that last admission.

              “You did. You made me happy.” Mary May replies softly, smiling at the Deputy. Underneath the wooden archway, the white tree lights wrapped around the archway, bathing the Deputy in a soft warm glow. The Deputy looks radiant in the golden-white lights. Her grey eyes shine warmly. All Mary May can think about is how gorgeous the Deputy looks; how lucky she is to have met the Deputy. She inches closer instinctively, catching sight of mistletoe in the corner of her eye.

              “Deputy,” Mary May leans up, wrapping her arms around the Deputy’s neck, “Thank you. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” Leaning the rest of the way up, Mary May presses her lips against the Deputy’s. She tastes like peppermint chapstick, her lips slightly cold from the winter air. The Deputy freezes at first in surprise, but a second later, her hands find their way to Mary May’s waist, pulling her closer. She kisses back passionately, deepening the connection between the two. The Deputy nips at her bottom lip, Mary May opening her mouth to allow the Deputy in.

              A few moments later, the two pull away, panting with wide, ecstatic smiles on their faces. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” The Deputy admits, slightly flustered.

              Mary May laughs. “Guess we’ll have to take advantage of that break?”

           The Deputy nods, “We will!” She pauses for a second. “Wait! I also wanted to get a photo with Boomer on my break. Wanna come with?”

              Taking the Deputy’s hand, Mary May pulls her along, “Well, what are you waiting for, Dep? Let’s go get that picture.”

#Far Cry 5 #fc5 #The Deputy #Mary May Fairgrave #FC5 fanfiction #fc5 fanfic #fc5 secret santa #@beemot I really hope you enjoy this!!!!! #I hope I did your deputy justice and I hope you really like this! #if you want me to change anything #please let me know #but again I really hope you like this #kate writes

[g0dspeeed]

A River Runs Through It

In the dismal monotony of bunker life, John Seed was open to surprises, anything to break up the horrid routine he found himself in after the Collapse.

John Seed was not, however, ready for three year old River Palmer.

One would think that having an entire underground mecca of loyal followers who hung on his every word would bring the ever charismatic John Seed a never ending bounty of entertainment and indulgence.

But alas, there he was, some years later after the bombs dropped, growing dismal and insane from boredom with each passing, sunless day. He had his reasons. John couldn't tell if it was the monotony of everyday bunker life, of listless routine, or the lack of feisty Resistance to rebuke and cleanse that soured his mood, that dissolved his resolve to carry out his Baptist duties with as much zealousness and vigor as he did before the sky caught on fire and crashed down on the County. A moot point, in the end. A lot of arguments dissolved with such a conclusion: It didn't matter.

The time was well into the dark hours of the morning. At least, the large clock on the wall of the radio room said so anyway. John lounged on a tufted chair by the main radio while the rest of his Gate slept, a weathered tool from his Confession box balanced between his lithe fingers. Even sleep was too peaceful, dull and unappealing as his restless mind ran rampant with creative ways to hurt and feel something akin to newness, to scratch that existential itch.

When the radio system buzzed to life, he thought it was imaginary. It clicked a few times, before static blew harshly on the line, as if someone was breathing heavy into the receiver.

A wave of agitation washed over John, the excitement of radio contact fizzled out by Day Two. His ears smarted by the loud, abrupt noise.

But what came next, clear and undeniable across the radio, brightened the tired eyes of John Seed, more than they had in months.

"H-Hello?"

Small.

"Hel-lo!" it sing-songed.

Undeniable.

"Who's out there, huh?"

The voice of a child.

John picked up his own receiver and clicked it on.

"Hello there," he greeted, tone soft and slow.

The line buzzed again, grating on his patience until it went silent with a sharp click .

For a moment, John half-wondered if it happened at all, if he was mistaken or if finally, finally he lost his mind, that the last of his sanity slipped through like sand through the fingers.

The receiver was shut off after a long silence.

Then-

"Hi!"

John cursed and jumped at the sudden burst of salutation, the word so cheery that it forced a smile to his lips.

The receiver was picked up again.

"Hello, you," chided John. "Who is it that I'm speaking with?"

There was movement of some sort, a rustling.

"You, you have to push down on the button," John tried. "In your hand–"

"Like this?" replied the small voice.

"Sure, I can hear you. Who are you?"

A tongue clicked, followed by a giggle, musical and sweet.

"River," answered the small voice shyly. "I'm River. I'm a boy!"

"You're a boy," validated John. "You sound like it. And how old are you River?"

A thoughtful hum carried over.

"This many!"

John sighed.

"I, well, I can't see that–"

"I'm three!" River exclaimed. "My birthday is tomorrow! Are you goin'?"

His voice died in his throat as John didn't quite know how to respond. He tried again.

"Am I going to your birthday?" he parroted. "Is that what you're asking me?"

The boy breathed heavy into the receiver. John imagined that the child had it pressed right up to his mouth, covering it with spittle and germs.

"Yup!" chirped the child, an emphasis on the 'p'. "My Momma said, she said, um, she said that, that…"

John exhaled again. John steeled himself, dug deep for whatever crumb of patience was left inside his body as the child struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"Mhm?" urged the Herald. "Your Mom said what?"

"My Momma, said that I could, I could call my aunts and uncles tomorrow for my birthday. I'm gonna be four! Are you my uncle?"

John frowned.

"Am I your uncle?"

"Yeah! Who the heck are you?"

A laugh barked from his mouth as John couldn't believe that the child was so blatantly curious. So innocent. Then again, what did John know of children? True, the bunker was littered with them, but this was the longest conversation John ever had with a child, let alone via radio.

"My name is John," he shared. "Nice to meet you, River—"

"How old are you? Are you tall? My Daddy's tall."

"Mm, interesting. I'm thirty-eight–"

"Wow. That's fuckin' old."

His jaw dropped.

"I, I don't think you should be talking that way, sir—"

"You a narc?"

"Am I…Am I–Did you just ask if I'm a narc?"

Musical like a song, the boy giggled across the radio line, the sound drawing a smile across John's lips and filling him with joy like sunlight in an abandoned room.

"No, no," answered John upon finding the right words. "I promise that I'm not a narc, River. But you really shouldn't be playing with the radio. There are strangers on here. Where are your parents?"

The radio clicked and clacked. John counted down from ten.

Then, in a raspy whisper, the child shared, "Sleepin'. 'M'not supposed to be up."

"Ah," whispered John back despite himself. "Well, then you probably should go back to sleep, little one. It's late."

"I don't wanna–"

"Mm, such is life," drawled John. "Go to bed."

A whine, long and tired, ached in John's ear.

"But what if," stammered the child. "What if you miss me?"

John blinked at such a question, at how it dripped wet with sadness in only how a child could feel in the throes of big feelings. His brow furrowed, both at how the small voice pleaded and how John felt a bit of regret in his heart.

"What if I miss you?" he repeated softly back to the boy.

"Yeah, what if you, you miss me? Won't you miss me?"

His lips parted to speak, but then shut at the sudden responsibility of facilitating the child's feelings, at how John felt responsible at all. Which was odd, the uncertainty that plagued him at such a task for he was the arbiter of words for years, at the helm for the Valley's message as Baptist, as Inquisitor.

But there he was: Unmoored and scrounging for words thanks to the innocence of a three year old.

"I," chanced John. "I will miss you, River. And I hope that you have a great birthday. From your Uncle, Uncle John."

Silence followed, heavy and leaving John in the wake of his own response and how ridiculous he felt that he felt anything at all, that a few words with a child was so off-putting and at the very least entertaining.

Sensing that the conversation, as riveting as it was with little River, had drawn to a close, John moved to shut off the radio for the night.

Until, that is, it crackled again.

But rather than hear the small, bright voice of his de facto nephew, a new, sleepy one spoke in his stead.

"You know, that was actually really, really sweet."

Blue eyes widened in the low light of the radio room, the waves of his ocean eyes teeming with shock. John couldn't believe what he heard, even as she continued in a tired sigh.

"He's raving. So happy, I can't even be mad at you," shared Cappie De La Costa, voice low from sleepiness, sensual even after all those years. "You made a little boy happy, John Seed."

A second later and John was grinning.

"Are you so surprised?" he countered.

"Um, yeah?" replied Cappie. "Aren't you?"

John nodded in his bunker.

"No. Not really. I find that I'm rather charming. More surprised that the little tadpole is yours, truth be told. Didn't take long for you and the Neanderthal to get bored, hm?"

She laughed, hearty and true. John hated how much he missed the sound.

"Yeah, that's it. Eli and me were bored and thought 'Know what would be so fun? Raising a child during the Apocalypse!'. What a stupid question."

"Well, you were never great at planning."

"Mm," she hummed. "Well, shit. Got me there."

A new quiet settled in. It didn't feel as heavy as before, but like before, John was disgusted that he felt any way about it.

"He sounds awful," he blurted. Then, John added, "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That. You're smiling. Quit it."

"Never. You never change, do you? You're still doing it–"

"Doing what?" hissed the Herald.

"That. You say mean things when you feel vulnerable."

John laughed something empty.

"I feel nothing for that child, Cappie. Your mind is the first to go when in the underground."

"Whatever you say, loser," she sighed. "But, if Eli is fine with it, would you like to speak to him on his birthday?"

John shoved down his delight.

"And why in the world what that paranoid redneck let me talk to your son?"

"Because I did. And you can't hurt us now. And because he's having to retell a bedtime story at four AM because his son won't shut up about 'Uncle John in the radio'. But it's whatever. You sounded like you were enjoying yourself."

John peered into the shadows around him. What a strange conundrum he found himself in. A moot point, in the end. A lot of arguments dissolved with such a conclusion: It didn't matter.

"I don't care," he answered. "I probably won't be around."

"Cool," replied Cappie, unaffected by his sour response. "G'night."

John didn't need to test the line to know that Cappie left him. She always was one who enjoyed getting the last word in. Petty thing. He doubted that would ever change.

He stared at the radio with bloodshot eyes, though the mind behind them was awake and processing what had just happened. A ghost, he heard one. It laughed and read him like a billboard. A poltergeist of a dead relationship made a mess of him in a few tired words and a tease.

The following day John fell into his dismal routine. He awoke, preached the Good News of the Father, carried out Cleansings, Confessions, and Atonements. The Flock hung on his sweet words, danced in the sparkle of his eyes as they had for years.

But, unlike all those other days, one of the followers approached John with a perplexed expression.

"Sir?" the man prompted. "Brother John? There's, um, someone asking for you?"

"Who?"

"Um, a little boy. On the radio, sir."

If ever asked, John reacted fine to such news. Just fine. He did not drop everything he was doing at that moment. He certainly did not cancel his sermon. He did not run to the radio room. He did not take a steadying breath to ease his racing pulse, to quell the excitement that rang in his heart like a bell as he settled in the comfy chair.

And he definitely, did not say the first thing that came to his mind upon pressing on the receiver.

"Happy Birthday, River."

#oc: cappie de la costa #oc: river palmer #john seed #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction

[anna-elizabeth-jason]

Deputy Anna Elizabeth Jason is closing the Eden’s Gate case.

In the course of time, it has emerged that this case does not want to be resolved. There are too many questions that will never be answered and all Anna is left with are conclusions. The Seeds deliberately have not left any evidence of their true intentions and are not willing to talk to Anna any longer, despite her endless efforts to find a solution that would have satisfied everyone.

No. It is inevitable. The course of the Far Cry 5 story is carved in stone and this is how it will end forevermore: with the Great Collapse.

This breaks my heart for more reasons you can imagine.

John and FC 5 have been part of my life for 2 years. But now it is time to move on.

Again, thanks, genuinely, from all my heart and soul to every single person involved in making Far Cry 5 the most amazing game I’ve ever played. It’s a masterpiece. *bows and vanishes into the shadows...

(As a last act, I might publish my unfinished John fanfiction from Nov. ‘21 where I have written John into real life. Maybe.)

********************** Far Cry 5 & John Seed belong to Ubisoft Free, free at last **********************

My sweet, fellow Tumblrs, please love John extra hard now. He needs it, he wants it...

If you want to stay in touch, check out my Insta @anna_elizabeth_jason as I will change my Tumblr default Log-In to my author's log-in. And with Insta you can change accounts easily. With Tumblr you can't.

I love you all!

#farcry #far cry 5 #farcry5 #john seed #johnseed #fc5 #edensgate #josephseed #jacobseed #fanfiction #cosplay #farcry5cosplay #edensgatecosplay #johnseedfarcry5 #hopecounty

[john-anon-athon-seed]

Sinful Melodies

John Seed x Reader

Warnings: Smut, slight Praise Kink

Summary: John wants to draw out every single sinful noise from your lips.

A/N: This was from a prompt sent to me! It took me a while, but it is finally done! @clicheantagonist (tagging you since you commented on the WIP 👀)

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

While sharp breaths and whimpers were music to John’s ears, they were just the beginning of what he wanted to hear. He wanted desperate moans and cries. He wanted loud and delectable sounds coming from deep within your lungs. He was determined to pull every inch of desire from your lips. 

He pushes you back against the mattress, keeping your legs pinned wide open as he grinds down against you. He keeps watchful eyes on your face as he carefully rests a hand across your neck. He rubs small, teasing circles against your pulse before he leans down to bite at the opposite side. He runs his tongue across the forming mark, pulling another whimper from your mouth.

“That’s it. Let those pretty noises out.”

He lets out a hum, tucking his nose into the underside of your jaw. He presses a deep, open-mouthed kiss against the column of your neck. You let out a quiet whine as your head presses back into the plush pillow. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as you squirm under his weight. 

“Please fuck me, John.”

He lets out a rumbling chuckle against your skin. “As you wish, my dear.” 

He gives you a final grazing bite before pulling away. He smooths his hands down your sides until he reaches your hips. He digs his fingertips into your soft flesh as he pulls you towards him. He moves one hand down between your legs, caressing the sensitive area. You were more than ready, but he wanted to hear you sing your pleasures.

He watches as you let out a gasp and clutch at the blankets beneath you. His eyes meet yours in a desire-stricken stare as he finally moves to bring his length against your entrance. He drags the tip up and down your core before sliding in slowly, dragging out the sensations.

John lets out a moan of his own as he seats himself fully inside of you. One hand wraps around your hip while the other comes to grip at your chest, his fingertips idly playing with your nipple. He only gives you a moment before he’s pulling out and pushing back in again, a deep groan joining the motion.

You suck in a sharp breath of air as his cock drags across your sensitive walls. Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open as he thrusts again, the pace still slow and deliberate. You reach down and grab onto his arm, tugging him towards you.

“Kiss me.” You demand softly.

He obeys as he curves his body over yours. He moves his hands up to cup your face. He presses a deep kiss against your lips as he continues to move inside of you. The new angle has your body beginning to quiver. You let out another gasp as you break free from the kiss.

“That’s it. That’s it.” He murmurs against your skin.

Your hands instantly wrap around his body as pleasure rolls over you. He thrusts in again and this time a loud moan escapes your throat and your body arches up against his torso.

John instantly lights up at the noise. It was the reaction he had been waiting to hear. Pride surges through his chest as he looks down at you caged between his arms. He leans down nestling the bridge of his nose against yours.

“Did that feel good, baby?” 

“Mhm…” You whimper, nodding your head furiously. 

“Want me to do it again?” 

“Yes!” You gasp breathlessly. 

He rolls his hips down against you once again, mindful to hit that same spot. His attention pays off as you let out another drawn out moan. Your arms clutch around his shoulders and dig into the taut muscles on his back, sending a shudder down his spine. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He growls as he snaps his hips forward once more. 

He picks up speed now that he can work that spot and have you a moaning mess underneath him. His eyes clamp shut as your walls clench around his cock. He lets out a deep groan and praises spill from his lips.

“Yes. Yes! Just like that. Keep making pretty sounds like that.”

“John, I’m so close! Keep going!” You moan.

“Come for me. You can do it.”

With a final thrust, you're seeing stars. Your head falls back against the pillow as you let out another long-winded moan. Your legs tense up around John’s hips and your nails draw lines up his back as your orgasm rushes through you.

Through the haze of your mind, you hear John’s breaths come out more and more ragged. He presses his face against yours, recapturing your lips in a rough kiss. You let out a whine as you squirm under him. He bites down on your bottom lip, only releasing it to let out another groan.

“Oh fuck—”

His voice cuts off as he cums with a pitched moan. His hips press against yours as he stills inside of you. His cheek presses up against yours, sliding around from the sweat beading across your bodies. His heated breath fans across your ear as you both come down from the high.

You slowly drag your palm up from his shoulders to the back of his neck. You tangle your fingers into the mussed hair. He lets out a satisfied sigh before pressing a feather-light kiss to your skin. 

Just before the two of you drift off, John makes a mental note of every time you had released such delightful noises. This wasn’t going to be the last time he heard such a beautiful melody. No, he would make sure he hears a symphony every time he has you underneath him.

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

[snake-in-the-garden]

Chapter 4 is Here!!!

Banner by @chazz-anova​

Chapter 4: Word Gets Around

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

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Ramona Belmont

Rating: M (for now)

Word count: 7.1k (oh god...!)

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

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

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

Prev. Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Masterlist || Taglist

Read it here or on Ao3

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And here I thought I was special."

Mary May snorted.

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

"Do you wanna get out of here?" 

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

"After he tried to rape her."

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

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

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

You're okay. You're okay.

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

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

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

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

"What does she have to do with anything?"

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

"Quarrels? What happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ramona continued staring at him. "Go on."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you will be attending?"

"Get off my property!"

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm just telling you from experience."

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

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

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

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

Deirdre frowned and averted her eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what do you do?"

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't count on it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#far cry 5 #fc5 #farcry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfic #fic: a stranger's sacrifice #serpent fics #oc: ramona belmont #sharky boshaw #x: we've touched on sorrowful days #sharky boshaw x oc #canon x oc #oc x canon #oc: deirdre monroe #x: the snowball effect #mary may fairgrave #nick rye #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers #fc5 fanfiction #fc5 fanfic #chapter 4

[megraen]

So @ladykatie512 asked for my help in putting together some Tinder dating profile templates, so I thought I'd share them. Enjoy the dating profile for my FC5 OC, Abigail Fehn.

[PAGE ONE] [PAGE TWO]

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #oc: abigail fehn #wip: what we're hunting for #far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry #jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed #canva template #tinder

[thewanderer-000]

The Ginger Snapped

Minors DNI

TW: Violence, gore, horror, adult content, seggual themes and scenes

(Note: Inspired by the werewolf attack scene in the Ginger Snaps movie, but not the werewolf-ication like the movie)

A nice cool breeze hit Penelope and Cheeseburger had a bit of relief from being out in the sun after that morning fire fight at the apple orchard. They had apples, had, Cheeseburger ate all of them and Penelope wasn't going to tell him no. She treated him like a giant puppy and he stuck by her because of it, and today he was also hunting. Penelope understood why, a creature was around and smelt odd that one day. And they were tracking it as Peaches followed behind 'em as stealthy back but lost interest as Cheeseburger found a fresh scent and chased it into Jacob Seeds territory.

'Whatever this thing was, it could run. Luckily my boy could run too, but maybe I should have 'im give up. I hate to be somewhere we could be out of contact with anyone' I follow Cheeseburger to the mountains after a few miles it got scary quiet, I feel my body fear sweat but as I quickly walk past a tree am pushed in its shadow. A hand on my mouth, and a rasp telling me to

"Shut up, something's out here and it chased away your bear". I am nervous and keep quiet, I look up at the one attached to the hand, and see it's Jacob. If Jacob is on edge this must be bad, I push his hand away and keep steady and quiet. And like that something comes running and whoosh Jacob and I are knocked to the ground, Cheeseburger runs away whimpering. No injuries from what I could see, Jacob helps me up, I looked him up and down see he got clawed a little. Of all the people to run into out here, I get Jacob Seed. My evening is getting weirder and weirder.

___________________

"You got clawed a little, sorry" I say to Jacob as he winced, he looked at the wound then stood up straight after a moment.

"Fuck, you'd think he would have stayed to maul me or somethi-" he teased but was cut off and screamed as a beast attacked, it ran off with Jacob in its teeth. He dropped his rifle as the beast ran close by me sending me to the ground. I scrambled to pick up Jacob's rifle, and am in a panic listening out for which direction of Jacob's screaming and wailing. Then quiet, and it panicked me more, I start running in the direction I was more than sure he was screaming in earlier.

"Jacob!? Jacob!!? Jacob!!!" I run and I look all over and am unbelievably scared at the moment hoping he'll answer my calls. And I run and run then we run into each other, he falls on top of me yelling incoherently before being whipped into a tree. I lay there for a moment then the beast is bitting into Jacob practically shaking him like a chew toy. He's screaming and groaning, I immediately jam the rifle barrel into its side and squeeze the trigger. It dropped down releasing Jacob, I pulled him away enough to help him up then we ran. He lead the way to a cabin but from slight blood loss he began to slow down as we got closer. I support his weight and helped him to the bed once we got in, Iocked the door and started to look at his injuries. He pushed my hands away obviously in shock and pain.

"Stop, don't-, quit, don't" I kinda fought with Jacob trying to look at him better, he breathed ragged holding my hands tightly that it hurt.

"Ow, Jacob please we have to- stop, let me stop the bleeding-, Jacob just let me look" I whimpered, he's reluctant but let's me see, I touch as he squeezes his eyes shut. And nothing, it was healing that almost hardly any blood came out, I was in awe and just glad a shower was in this cabin, we're lucky. I think.

"Fuck, you're practically healed, how can that be, the wounds were deep. Hmm. You think it's still alive, I guess not if we're alive. I'll look around then I'll get you cleaned up" I find clothes and sigh relieved they had all different sizes and I checked the water faucet. It didn't run but it was fine after a moment, running water, lucky the pipes didn't freeze yet. We were covered in so much blood, but Jacob more so, even the injury on his leg from earlier. I stripped down to nothing and put my hair up so I could get Jacob undressed and cleaned up. He tries to put his hand up higher than his shoulder but is struggling, I pretend to not notice and toss my stuff in a trash bag and drag it to the bathroom for Jacob's clothes.

"Alright, let's get you to the bathroom and stripped down, we can wash up and I can clean them injuries" I say to him and he follows orders luckily but if he wanted to fight I would have obliged. I get his boots off then his bloodied clothes, but Jacob isn't paying attention to that as he stares at my exposed tits. I turned to drop his stuff in with mine and feel a pinch on my butt, I yelp, jumped then turn to scowl at Jacob.

"I don't think you can wash the dirty thoughts from my brain right now, darlin'" Jacob said smirking a sly smile, 'men' is all I can think.

"Get in that shower, nows not the time for hanky panky" I say, but he chuckled and stood up I followed him in, Jacob stumbled and grabbed on, I hold on to him and he moved his hand lower to cup my ass.

"Jacob, hand." Jacob squeezed giving me a confused look, I shake my head.

"Get your hand off my butt" he moved it lower, so I turn the water hot, not to me but I knew it'd be hot to him. Or so I thought.

"Ah, that feels good" Jacob moaned, I just grabbed a couple wash clothes that I found in the bathroom cupboard and soap up his cloth.

"Here wash yourself, have any trouble I can help" I tell Jacob as I get my wash cloth ready to wash myself. I tackle the blood that dried on to my skin and scrub away, he nudges me to get his back and unfortunately he's covered in dried blood there too. We're cleaned up after awhile, we got dried and clothed, I wasn't expecting to get stranded out here but we're at a truce for now. We lay on the double bed, but I'm too scared to sleep, yet my eyes feel so heavy.

"Hey, you asleep Jacob?" I ask hesitantly, I feel Jacob turn to me then he reached for me through the darkness. His hand grazed over between my legs but he grabbed my side to pull me against his chest, he made a grumble and held me. I was still scared but a little warmer and soon I drift off to sleep.

___________________

"Mm-good morning" I say and feel a hand on a chest, I look at Deputy Penelope Thompson, so I don't have to relive yesterday evening. But she's clothed and I realize we're enemies again or she hasn't had my same thought. I touch her hand on my chest and noticed she was just covering me before she left.

"Oh morning, Jacob. I uh- I was just going to go see about the creature that attacked you" she said as she sat down on the bed, I noticed her eyes went down cast looking at my bandaged chest, her hand lingered on my non injured shoulder and her gaze turned soft looking at it.

"Let me come with you, Pen-" I say getting up feeling little to no sting, almost no issues, a bit weak but nothing I can't handle. Penelope massaged my shoulder then got up to go grab me the clothes she put aside.

"OK, before you get dressed I wanna clean your wounds first and we can go scope out the area" Penelope had first aid in her other hand when she arrived back at my side, she dropped the clothes and aid on the bed as she sat to peel away the blood stained bandaging. She wiped away the dried blood and we were shocked to see the healing was pretty much done. But the hair growing from it was unnerving, Penelope got up and took the kettle off and poured it into a small basin and cleaned away the dried blood, the first aid had few cleaning pads. I eyed her and felt hazy or it was just soothing how she took care of me.

#Penelope Thompson #Jacob Seed #werewolf #bitten #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #inspired by Ginger Snaps movie #FarCry5 #Far Cry 5 #FC5 #Ginger Snaps #inspired