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inafieldofdaisies · 10 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @g0dspeeed <3 | Tagging @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @neonneurons @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners and anyone with something to share ❤️

This midweek you're getting more of Jacob x Mercedes, the snippet is on the longer side (but like I don't want to leave you all on a cliffy like with the last "last line tag post") and things are definitely picking up, folks. Beware it gets NSFW towards the end. :D

"Bambi?", Mercedes shot a dark look at the now closed door of Jacob's office, "Bambi.", she shook her head and let out a bitter laugh. You truly have no idea, Jacob Seed. The last couple of minutes were a true testament of her ability to stay in character and not come out swinging the second he had started barking orders at her like she was one of his unfortunate subordinates or worse, an animal he was trying to tame. "Bambi.", she repeated again and bit her lip as she went around the desk and sat down in his chair. You're so lucky I didn't shove my fist so far up your clueless ass you would have seen stars. Intrusive thoughts about inflicting different level of violence upon his person had popped up in her mind anytime Jacob had opened his mouth to speak during their confrontation about her leaving the region. She had no idea why he seemed to enjoy pushing her around so much, but he was in for quite the rude awakening if he expected her to just run back to Joseph and abandon the task and chance at helping the opposing Militia. "The enemy of my enemy shall be my friend.", she whispered as she scanned over the plans laid out in front of her carefully, memorizing anything that could be of assistance at doing damage to the Project. One name repeated over and over in the notes, almost bordering obsession and she suspected the man was just the one she needed to find. "Eli. Eli. I feel like we can help each other." I will be the snake in your brother's garden. The wolf roaming among your sheep, Jacob. Not Bambi.

Mercedes hoped the Deputy that was brave enough to make a run for it would manage to escape despite Jacob's strong confiction he wouldn't. In ways she felt guilty for dragging the man and his colleagues into the mess. After going over anything available on top of the desk, she moved onto its drawers. Locked. Of course. She kept an eye on the door as she reached into her hair and pulled out one of the bobby pins from her braid, getting to work on lockpicking the top drawer. Her gaze narrowed in confusion the second she pulled it open and was greeted by emptiness aside from a small wooden box. She picked it up with curiousity and opened the lid, scanning over the letters engraved on the inside, "Only you? A music box out of everything, Jacob?" Mercedes returned the box back in its place and shut the drawer, double checking it's locked again before moving onto the rest. The discovery was more like what she had expected to come across: files of Hope County residents, most marked as "failure" with a red stamp. She quickly flipped through the folders without pulling any out, knowing there were way too many to go over when she had no idea when Jacob or any of his men would return to check on her. After locking all drawers again and making sure nothing was out of place, she leaned back in the chair with a sign, "Slow progress. Oh, how I hate you."

[one radio call with Joseph later; where he insists she must stay in the Whitetails and be his eyes.]

Hours passed without anyone appearing or even passing by the office door, the building remained quiet as the light outside began to dim. She was starting to wonder if Jacob hadn't decided to not return to the Vet Center at all, hoping she would take the hint and leave after his less than warm welcome. Mercedes lost count how many times she spun around in his chair as she contemplated her life choices and imagining where she would have been at that moment had she not gone after Joseph Seed at all. Probably at some unjustifiably expensive restaurant with a target, hanging onto my every word.Fuck, sure can use some food by now… Another spin paired with regrets and boredom had her staring at the peeling paint on the wall behind her and when she turned again instead of finding the office vacant, angry blue eyes met hers. Sneaking up on me, are we? "You're still here.", Jacob stated the obvious as he stopped in her earlier position at the desk, their roles reversed, no matter how temporary. A smile broke across her face, Mercy coming out to play, "No place I would rather be." Many places I'd rather be, in fact.Anywhere with a more enjoyable company preferably.A bath would be nice, too, doesn't even have to be fancy.

"You called my brother.", he muttered in annoyance as he wiped his brow, smudging blood across his skin and making Mercedes realize his hands were stained crimson. Are you badly injured, Deputy? Is it my fault? "You should have left hours ago. I have to warn you, I don't take lightly to anyone disregarding my authority. Let alone to you making yourself at home in my chair, spinning around in it like a child." So did many control obsessed men before you, honey. Then they realized I do as I please. Most found themselves beneath me or chasing after me, begging for mercy at the end. Ironic, I know. "I answer to Joseph, not you. The sooner you accept that, the less times your blood pressure would rise.", she said, not letting her smile waiver even for a breath as she got up and rounded the desk to stand in front of him. Mercedes licked her thumb and brought it to his forehead, cleaning off the blood when she added, "You have to watch your heart at your age." "What do you think you're doing exactly?", his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before it could retreat, "And you did not just dare to call me old." She tried to pull her arm free, but Jacob's grip only tightened as a result, "A joke, Jacob, I assume you know what that is. As for what I was doing… you had something on your face, so you're welcome." A strange expression came over his features when he replied, "I didn't expect to have it in you to crack a joke, Mercedes." One of her shoulders quirked up, "Not like you have spent any time trying to talk to me since we've met. How would you know what I'm like?"

All she got from him was silence. The air grew heavy with tension as his eyes ran over her face, hand still gripping hers, his body rigid. Minutes that felt like forever rolled by, and she did her best to keep her breathing steady as goosebumps covered her exposed flesh. She wondered if she would end up slammed into a wall and what would follow. His look tells me that he'd either kiss me senseless or choke the life out of me. Neither outcome very high on my list, thank you. Her back didn't meet the wall behind her, instead he swiftly pulled at her hand and dragged her out of the room without a single word. Jacob took quick, long strides over the hallways, forcing her to jog in order to keep up with him, her flats slipping on the worn-out tiles. His men watched, heads bowed down, trying their hardest to appear disinterested in what their boss was doing. "Jacob?", she uttered out in confusion, refusing to let go of Mercy's sweet and naive persona. In reality she suspected that at some point in the quiet moments back in his office, he had realized she wouldn't be leaving on her own accord, and was set on personally throwing her out, having decided he's done dealing with her. In seconds, he was at the front entrance of the Center, pushing the doors open and heading with determination past all the rolls of cages towards a white pick-up truck marked with a familiar cross. Yes, sending me packing, alright. When they reached the vehicle, Jacob finally let go of her wrist as he went to grab her bag from the car she had driven there. Her eyes shifted between her forearm, where the outline of his fingers was now imprinted in crimson, and the sun setting against the darkening sky. The loud slamming of the car's trunk brought her attention back to him and she watched him toss her luggage in the back of the truck and round the front without a single look in her direction.

"Get in, Mercedes.", he ordered as he threw his door open and climbed in. Mercedes reluctantly walked over to the passenger's side and bent down to speak through the open window just as a wolf howl sounded somewhere in the distance, making her tense up, "I told you that I'm not leaving. Joseph-" His cold eyes finally veered at her, "I said, get in. Or do I have to come out and make you?" Are we sure John is the one with anger issues? All she could do was sigh in defeat as her fingers found the handle of the door and swung it open. She hauled her body inside as her mind struggled to accept the fact she had failed, that coercing him into letting her stay had proven to be an impossible task after all. The minute she was buckled in, he started the truck, keeping his gaze glued to the road as he drove away from St. Francis. "I don't need you driving me.", she said softly, already dreading the idea that she would be stuck in the same tiny space with him, having to tolerate his glowering all the way back to Joseph's Compound. Even she had her limits. His head swiveled sharply, blue eyes meeting hers, when he gritted out, "Do you want to sleep in one of the cages back at the center, sweetheart… or are you going to shut your mouth and stop complaining before I change my mind about letting you stay?" Mercedes blinked in shock, certain she had heard him wrong. "Stay?", she said slowly. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, the blood that covered them was all dried up by then, "Yes. You called my brother. You have him to thank for that." She bit her lip, looking out of the window as the truck went over a small bridge, the river below it dark and unwelcoming, yet still promising her freedom.

"Where are you taking me, though?", she asked, wrapping her hands around herself, wondering if she had missed an opportunity to jump to safety especially after his cage comment. His surly demeanor foretold of nothing but trouble. She was certain Jacob wasn't going to grace her with an answer, then he suddenly broke the silence, saying simply, "A cabin. Should be empty." Without giving her a chance to reply, he reached out and turned on the radio, muttering, "No more chit-chat, keep quiet. We're not suddenly friends because Joseph managed to convince me to tolerate your presence here." Mercedes nodded absently and leaned back in her seat, watching the dark road ahead. After a while he spoke up again, "Look at that. You're actually listening for once." From the corner of her eye she could see his lips twist into a small smile and she wondered if he expected her to respond, or he was testing her, hoping she'd give him another excuse to lash out at her. Eventually, he parked the truck in front of a small unlit cabin that would have been completely hard to spot if it wasn't for the headlights that casted light upon it.

She opened the passenger side door, shivering against the change of temperature the moment she exited the vehicle. She quickly grabbed her bag just as Jacob called out, "Where do you think you're going?" "Thank you for the ride, Jacob. Have yourself a good night.", she retorted, not bothering to turn around and entertain another argument that would keep him from driving off. She followed the path to the front door of the house as she heard his door slam shut, then footsteps stalking her way. Fucking hell. You're really asking to be kicked in the balls now. "Mercedes.", he grunted out. "What?", a hand wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. His tone told her that irritated Jacob was making a return, "I said the house should be empty, would be smart if you don't go storming it before I've had time to make sure it's actually safe to enter." "I don't need your help.", Mercedes shook off his hold and continued down the walkway. "Do you even know how to use a gun, sweetheart? Any basic combat? Hell, can you even throw a punch properly?", he chided, his usage of the term of endearment dripping with sarcasm. "No, and no. But we could always test the punching part out if you insist, then tell me how I've done afterwards. I know you love training people.", she was tired of his constant belittling and let the last part slip without worrying too much about how unlike Mercy it was. Yes to all three, actually. And don't expect me to worry about your pretty face. But she knew it was better if the Seeds believed she was helpless, naive, too oblivious to be up to anything, let alone be planning their demise right under their noses. It was a target's most common mistake: underestimating her, it's how she always remained hidden in plain sight, and by the time they would realize the critical lapse of judgment, she was always long gone.

"Babysitting.", Jacob muttered under his breath as he pulled out a gun from his leg holster and pushed the front door open, "Wait here. I mean it." The lights inside the house turned on one by one, illuminating the outside with a faint glow. "Cabin's clear.", he declared as he stepped out on the porch. "Goodnight then.", Mercedes went around him, dropping her bag on the floor as she slammed the door shut in his face and leaned against it. A knock sounded immediately from the other side, his voice muffled when he announced, "I'm not leaving." "What?", came out as a squeak, and she hated how for once the reaction was actually real: she fully had expected him to be gone before she had even crossed over the threshold. "The Militia has eyes everywhere, so by now, they would know of your arrival. If you don't want to wake up tied to a chair in some make-shift interrogation room, you'd let me in." "What are you, a vampire?", she said quietly, frowning at the idea he was still there and supposedly was planning to spend the night under the same roof as her. "What did you say? Kinda hard to hear you with, you know, a door between us, sweetheart.", he was back to sounding amused, and when he got nothing out of her, he knocked again but way louder, making her jump, "Joseph's orders, Mercedes. Open the damn door, if you don't want me gaining entry in a less pleasant way." She cracked open the door slowly, sending him a look of distrust, "He said nothing of that sort to me." "Well, he did, to me. Called me in the middle of hunting down my runner. Said I've been mistreating you. Scolded me like I'm a child, not his older brother.", he scoffed, his face bearing an arcane expression when he added, "Want to know what else he said?" She fought back a smile at the idea Jacob had been knocked down a peg, no matter by whom. "No." He pushed past her inside, "Might be for the best, actually." Talk about foreboding.

With a huff she headed down the hallway after him and found herself standing in a small living room. The freamed pictures of a young couple reminded her the cabin was someone's treasured home that the Project had forcibly taken away, and judging by the lack of dust, it hadn't happened very long ago either. Jacob didn't bat an eye at the sight, sitting down on the couch with an arm thrown over the back of it as he continued, "The fact of the matter is, Joseph decided it would be smart to have someone keeping an eye out for you during your stay. Said I should personally see you settled in." She knew that having someone around to keep tabs on her and make sure she wouldn't run into the Militia was certainly bound to make her task of finding a way to run into them more difficult. "I thought you didn't want to 'babysit'?", she narrowed her eyes, remaining standing in the doorway. "Trust me, I don't. Don't go believing this would turn into a regular thing, I'm staying here only for tonight. So don't get any ideas." I will be sobbing into my pillow every night, Jacob. What shall this damsel do without a petulant ginger to protect her… More silence filled the room until he said, "You know, for someone that always tries to make conversation with anyone, you sure are awfully quiet out of a sudden." "You made it very clear I'm unwelcome here and that you dislike me. From day one, if I may add. I've made my peace with it, so enjoy the silence. Isn't that what you wanted after all?", she replied and grabbed her bag from the hallway, dropping it in the bedroom. She could foresee him complaining about the possible sleep arrangements, but if he had a problem with the couch, he could always sleep outside as alternative.

The lack of blood and no noticeable signs of struggle around the house gave her hope that maybe the two people that used to live there had made it out unscathed, she wanted to wholeheartedly believe that was the case. Mercedes kept to herself and made it her mission to ignore her moody chaperone as she washed her hands in the kitchen. She scrubbed at the bloody fingerprints he had left on her skin, wanting to get rid of the reminder she had no idea what had happened with the Deputy. She knew she potentially had a way to get an answer, but she refused to risk arousing suspicion by asking his captor about it. "Know how to start a fire?", Jacob chirped from the living room, still lounging back on the couch. "No." Yes. "Want me to teach you?", his cordial tone wasn't something she was used to. "Why are you acting all nice to me out of a sudden?" "What would you rather I do then, Mercedes? Figured the night would pass by easier that way.", she could feel his stare on her as she kept her back to him, opening and closing cupboards until she found a glass to pour herself some water into. "You don't have to sleep here. If you're worried I will tell Joseph… don't and just be on your way already." "I'm staying. You still didn't answer my question. Do you want me to teach you?" She moved onto the fridge next, finding it almost empty as expected, "Nothing edible in the fridge, Jacob. If you don't want ketchup for dinner, that is." "Check the pantry, most folks around here are preppers one way or another.", he explained, coming from behind her and opening the door to the small pantry himself before she even had a chance to, "Here."

He pulled out a couple of cans, leaving them on the counter as she took a generous sip of water, wishing it was alcohol instead. Sure as hell would make my charming companion seem more tolerable. "And if they had nothing stashed away, what was the plan then?" He raised an eyebrow, "Catch us some dinner." "I'm a vegetarian." It was another lie, but she had no desire to watch him play caveman, not if she was to keep her appetite after the things she had witnessed at St. Francis. "Are you now?" "You have a problem with that, too?" Jacob shrugged, "It's nature. We all have a spot on the food chain." "Whatever you say." "You don't agree?" Mercedes waved a hand in his direction, "I just have no energy for all this." When he went to open one of the cans, she moved over to where he was standing and grabbed it before saying, "Are you not even going to wash up first?" He looked down as if realizing for the first time the actual state of his hands. "Sorry.", he muttered and moved to the sink. The quiet apology took her by surprise, but she didn't let that show when she asked, "You hadn't even realized your hands were bloody?" "When you do this every day, it becomes a habit, a part of you, you stop paying attention because it doesn't look unnatural.", he uttered out over the running water, "We all have a role to play." "What's that supposed to mean, Jacob?", she certainly didn't like his clipped tone.

After methodically drying off his hands in silence, Jacob turned with another dark stare, pointed her way, "I cull the herd. Get my hands dirty for the Project. You play dress-up as my sister's double to keep my brother company." "I'm doing no such thing." "No?", he smirked, "You have no idea about my brother's plan for you, do you?" She had her suspicions, but the fact he was close to voicing his and had such a reaction piqued her interest. "What are you talking about?", she blinked in confusion, letting worry seep into the question. He shook his head, deciding against saying anything else as he opened the can and dumped the contents into a pan she had pulled out, "Doesn't matter. We all have our roles, sweetheart, it just takes time to realize what they are. You, too, would, eventually." In a couple of minutes, Mercedes found herself sitting across from Jacob at the small kitchen table that accentuated his towering presence even more. She stared down at her bowl, feeling disappointment at the fact that in less than a few hours, she would have been in Hope County for 388 days, and she was nowhere close to seeing an end to her mission. Jacob was right about her having a role to play, but he was dead wrong about who she played. He finished his meal first, getting up quietly and heading off into the hallway after dropping his plate in the sink. A part of her hoped he would just up and leave, not matter if it disobeyed Joseph's orders.

Done with her own dinner, she took a seat in an armchair next to the couch, and to her dismay, he returned shortly, carrying a couple of pieces of firewood inside. He kneeled down in front of the fireplace, mumbling, "So, have you changed your mind about me teaching you how to start a fire, yet?" "No." "Why?" "Because." Because your friendliness is forced. Because you're only being nice after getting scolded by Joseph and being offered some cryptic revelation about me. Because I'd rather keep my distance for so many reasons. He shook his head at her nonanswer, patting the empty space on the carpet next to him, "Come on, Mercedes." "No, thank you." "You'd certainly regret declining that lesson in the winter months… if you even make it that long in the Whitetails, that is.", he said, not bothering to mask the jab. "You're the survival expert, right? So do it yourself." "You owe me for destroying my poster. Humor me, and I will overlook the transgression." She shook her head, "I did no such thing, I told you already. I'm staring to wonder if there ever was one in your office or you're making it up so you have something to hold over my head." His eyes narrowed, "You're lying. We both know there was one." "Am not." "Come over, already. We can argue the whole night or get the cabin warmed up."

Mercedes got up with a sigh, shuffling over to him before she knelt down, and grumbled, "I still don't understand why you insist on it. If you expect I'd be praising your efforts to play nice to Joseph… that won't be happening." He ignored her words, slipping into explaining the basics she knew by heart, "First, you check the damper if you don't want all the smoke coming into the house." She nodded along with enthusiasm, urging him to continue, "Two pieces of firewood.", he picked them up from the floor and placed them on the grate of the fireplace before crumpling some newspaper, "Tinder. Then kindling on top. Some more firewood. And then…" Jacob reached inside his shirt's pocket, taking out a matchbox and passing it over to her, "…you light it." His fingers brushed against hers, and she tried to ignore his intense stare as she removed a match and struck it, wasting no time in starting the fire. His 'lesson' being officially over meant he would finally leave her in peace. Or one can only hope. "There. Done.", she muttered, and turned to face him, "I'm off to bed. Goodnight." as the words left her, his hand grabbed her cheek, the pure shock stopping her from getting up. "What are you doing?", she asked in a shaky voice, telling herself it was acting, and his touch wasn't actually throwing her off-kilter. "Something I definitely shouldn't be doing.", he gritted out before clashing his mouth to hers.

Alarm bells sounded in her head. This is beyond disastrous. Push him away. You're signing your death warrant. His fingers slipped into her hair, tangling in the curls and holding her close as his tongue parted her lips, and he let out an animalistic groan the second it met with her own. The scent of the burning embers in the fire mixed with his own fragrance, completely overwhelming her senses and causing the desire that had taken over her system the second his mouth had covered hers to deepen. Mercedes finally gathered the willpower to push at his chest and break the kiss, whispering, "We can't-", she shook her head to stress her point, not sure who she was reminding of the whole thing being a bad idea. Her body certainly had missed the memo, if she was to judge by the arousal that was pooling between her legs. "There are rules, Jacob. Especially-" "I won't tell if you don't.", Jacob said as if it was that simple, surprisingly looking almost as shaken up as she was. "You're lying. Did he put you up to this? To what…test me? Or are you having a laugh at my expense, seeing if I'm easy to tempt, then unleash John on me as payback?" "No.", he uttered out sharply, "It's nothing like that. And trust me, Joseph has nothing to do with this. We both know he would never suggest-" "Swear it." She had gone so long pretending to be someone she's not, feeling under constant surveillance at the Compound, having to follow Joseph's rules and act like she was smitten by his holier-than-thou persona. She craved a small win, to take something for herself, to get even an hour back into her old life. None of that seems feasible… so an orgasm wouldn't be bad, either. What a better "fuck you" to the Father than… fucking his brother?

Amusement flashed across his features, but it didn't get rid of the lust swimming in his blue depths or the frown he wore at her accusations, "I swear it. Are you going to make me do a pinky promise, sweetheart?" "Very funny. What if I do?", she reached out her pinkie as a joke, expecting he wouldn't entertain the idea, instead he wrapped his around it without even batting an eye. "There. Do you believe me now?" Mercedes had met many liars, she herself had become one for living, so she knew how to read people and what to look for, her eyes were trained to notice even the smallest tell in her opponents. In that moment, she couldn't see any signs Jacob was lying, and deep down she just didn't care. She nodded, and it was all the motivation he needed to pull her in for a second kiss, arms grabbing her waist and hoisting her onto his lap. His mouth glided over her cheek and down her neck, beard scratching her skin as he pushed the dress strap out of the way to nip at her shoulder. "Jacob", she hummed his name, and he got up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his midriff as he strode in the direction of the bedroom, kicking the door open. Before she could blink, he deposited her on the bed, and she leaned back on her elbows, watching him as he hungrily stared down at the spot where her dress had ridden up and exposed her thigh.

"If we're gonna do this…", he paused, head swiveling in search for something, "I probably need to turn off the lights." Mercedes sent him a determined look, "No. I want to be able to see you. See us." We're not fucking in the dark, for fuck's sake. "I'm telling you, you don't." "I absolutely do." "Mercedes.", he held out his hand, palm running over the scars on his forearm, "You see this… they don't stop at my hands." "Clothes off, Jacob. Now." Her tone shifted as the Mercy act slipped completely, and if he noticed, he chose to ignore it. His blue eyes narrowed in uncertainty, making her nod, then repeat, "Clothes off. Want me to do it for you?" "Yes." Mercedes rose up on her knees, fingers taking hold of his camo shirt and stripping it off his body. She grabbed the hem of his short sleeved shirt next and lifted it up over his head, unveiling series of scars and burns across his skin. "Told you.", Jacob replied with a frown. "Come here. All I see is a survivor. Do you think these are going to stop me from wanting you?", she placed a kiss above his heart before her fingers locked at his neck, pulling him down on top of her. For a second, she was staring past the defenses of the man that barked orders at everyone and tried his hardest to keep the world at arm's length, and it made her heart ache. "You gonna get me out of this dress?", she asked, cradling him between her thighs as he finally snapped out of his stupor.

His hands reached around, looking for a way to undo the dress as his lips found hers for another feverish kiss and he let out a growl in frustration, moving back to whisper, "I can't find the damn zipper." "It's there. It's small-" "Do you love this dress?", he asked impatiently. "I can unzip it myself, just-", she stopped, blinking in confusion at the strange question, "Wait, what-" "Do you?" "Not really. No." Hate it actually, and the fact it seems to be your brother's favorite. "Good. Turn around." "Jacob?" "Do you trust me, sweetheart?" Not as far as I can throw you. Probably even less. "I guess?" "Turn around." She complied and swirled, staying on her knees with her back to him, and the next thing she felt was something cold touching her skin before he ordered sternly, "Keep still." Her brain registered what it was: the blunt end of a knife, inches apart from her spine. What the fuck. Then the tightness of the bodice gave way, as he cut the dress open all the way and sheathed the knife. "All done.", he stated in a calm tone, like he hadn't just brandished a weapon in bed after being too annoyed to look for a zipper. "I can't believe you pulled out a knife." "Got the job done, didn't it?"

His fingers moved the straps off her shoulders, the garment pooling on the bed and leaving her down to her underwear. She spun around to find him staring at her intently, blue eyes running over her body as if searching for something. An unreadable expression came over his face before he guessed, "You haven't been in John's chair, yet." I will be gone the second Joseph decides the time for me to confess has come. Shockingly enough, I draw the line at body mutilation. I'd prefer to avoid having to explain why I have sins engraved into my skin to whoever would be my next target. "No." His gaze darkened, "Just what I suspected." "What do you mean?" Instead of offering her an explanation, he gave her another cryptic response, "Doesn't matter." "Jacob." He shook his head and crashed his lips into hers in an attempt to stop her quest for answers, fingers unclasping her bra as hers got to work on undoing his jeans and pushed them down his legs. Mercedes lied back on the bed, gaze following his movements with anticipation as he took off his boots and pants, then joined her before any doubt or her common sense could creep in. His mouth traced a path from her abdomen up towards her breasts, lips closing around her nipple before he bit down on it gently. Her back arched when he moved onto the other one, showing it the same amount of attention as she tried to hold in her moans.

"I want to hear you. Every sound.", Jacob lifted his eyes to hers while his hand strayed over to one of the bedside drawers. He opened it and rummaged inside in a haste, huffing when he came up empty. "What are you looking for?" You pull someone's used toy out, I swear I'm hitting you in the face with it. "Condoms.", he stated matter-of-factly, opening the drawer above the one he had checked, "There you are." He dropped the wrapper on the bed, eyes roaming over her body, staring at her like she was his dinner. Calloused fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties and into her heat, exploring the same way her tongue began mapping out her mouth. "So wet for me, sweetheart." He pumped in and out of her slowly, his thumb brushing over her clit briefly, denying her actual release. It didn't take long for Mercedes to become fed up with his game, with his lips twisted into an arrogant smirk at how she was writhing beneath him. You're enjoying this too much. And I enjoy making people pay even more, Jacob. Keep acting this way and you'd find out. "I need more. I need you inside me.", she couldn't recognize her own voice as his hand retreated out of her underwear, leaving her body longing for his touch, to be filled again. "I'm more than happy to oblige.", Jacob retorted and moved away to discard his boxers, then dragged her panties down her legs, tossing them over shoulder. Her body trembled in anticipation and her gaze remained glued to his hands as they rolled the condom over his length, her stare inevitably making him choke out, "You keep looking at me like that, I can't promise I will be holding myself back."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the irony she was the one that had to hold back. In words and actions. He frowned at the sound and crawled over her, a cold sensation spreading over her skin when the dog tags he wore around his neck made contact with it, "Don't laugh, I'm absolutely serious here." His hands parted her thighs while he went in for another kiss, guiding his tip to her entrance and barely making it in as he whispered, "I might regret offering this, but… last chance to back down, Mercedes." A bit late for that now, ain't it? Or does "just the tip" not count in your cult? Their mouths met again just as she grabbed his hip and pushed him all the way inside, letting out a content sigh at the feeling. The part of Mercedes that always managed to be the voice of reason reminded her in last ditch effort how stupid the decision was, how reckless, then it went completely silent the second he began to move. He kissed her like he couldn't get enough, hands braced on each side of her face, every thrust appearing more intense and desperate than the previous. "Faster. Don't hold back on me. Fuck me like you meant it.", she hummed against his lips and he complied, hand holding onto her waist as his strokes picked up and his thumb found her clit, driving her over the edge with just a few flicks. She half-expected him to follow her, but he shook his head, "We're nowhere near done here, sweetheart." His eyes met hers as his hand took hold of her leg and rested it on his shoulder, finding a new deeper angle, the lingering aftershocks of her climax only intensifying his movements.

"What did you call me today, hm? Old?", he asked in a low tone, emphasising the word with a hard thrust and smirking at the moan that it elicited from her. Touchy, aren't we? Still not over one innocent joke. Though, fuck, I'm starting to think I should nag you more often, if this is how it ends for me… "That an yes, Mercedes?", Jacob challenged, slowing his rhythm down and kissing her calf, "Then there were all the times you undermined my authority… Maybe I should teach you that actions have consequences." His expression told her he was reveling in the idea he was completely in charge of her own body, still believing her to be this meek creature he could play around with as long as he pleased. Time to give you a taste of your own medicine. A smirk broke free on her face as she rolled them over until she came on top and straddled him. Her hands found her destroyed dress, and quickly unlaced the ribbon that adorned the front of its bodice, the subtle sound seeming louder in the silence that surrounded them. Amusement flashed across his features, hinting he still believed she was playing around. His eyes darkened the moment she grasped both of his hands and swiftly tied the ribbon around his wrists, securing the ends into an intricate knot at the wooden bedpost. The tension in the air grew as they gazed at each other, anticipation for what was to come licking at her spine and by the way he twitched inside her, he seemed to be feeling the same.

The whole time he stared at her with a strange expression, voice full of wonder when he asked, "Who are you and what did you do with 'Mercy'?", he spat out the nickname with disdain. Mercedes ran her fingers over his chest, tracing the rougher parts of his skin before leaning down to whisper in his ear, "What did you call me today?", she paused, still mimicking Mercy's gentle tone despite copying his words, "Bambi?", then the real her peeked through when she added, "I'm more of a wolf, Jacob. About time we met." He tested the retraints, and a growl escaped him when they didn't budge. Not my first rodeo. You're not going anywhere. She cupped his cheek, lowering her mouth to his as she started to move at her own pace, the new position threatening to send over the edge before she wanted. In the back of her mind she delighted in the idea how scandalized Joseph would be if he saw them at that moment, if his "God" graced him with the unfortunate vision of her breaking such a precious rule to him. "I knew there was something more to you. That "Mercy" was only skin deep. I could feel it anytime I looked at you.", Jacob said in between kisses, his breathing getting labored now that she had taken charge of their movements. Her teeth bit down on his bottom lip, the sharp tang of his blood hitting her tongue, "Did you? And here I thought you didn't like me." "I didn't like you.", he choked out, "I still don't.", and it was the least convincing lie she had ever heard in her life. Giving me second hand embarrassment here, Jacob. "Should I stop then? Because you see, I'm getting mixed signals here.", her lips moved onto his neck and she sucked on the skin, marking him, "You're telling me one thing, your body another… who's lying?"

She couldn't help but wonder what his Chosen would think of her signature on his throat, especially after the way he had dragged her out of St. Francis. "No.", he said, clutching onto whatever semblance of control he had remaining. "No, what? Did I break you? Form a sentence for me." "Don't stop." A very un-Mercy-like smirk broke free, "Ah, that's what I thought." Her hips rotated again and again, bringing both of them closer to release until he muttered, "I won't last much longer, Mercedes." "I come first, only then you do, too, understood?", he raised an eyebrow at her stern tone but nodded, "Good." Mercedes straightened her back, her hand gliding to where they were joined, fingers rubbing her clit while the other caressed her breast. His eyes drank her in and she could tell he was enjoying the show, yet his face remained scrunched up with concentration as he held back his own release, set on proving a point. On proving himself to her. A second climax hit her, ripping out a moan out of her, and it was all the encouragement he needed to let go, too, as her walls clenched around him. "Fucking excellent.", he said, still out of breath, the genuine shock in his words and his sated expression causing her to beam with pride. It was the first real smile to grace her face since joining the Project, one that reached the dimples in her cheeks, making them pop. The fact that he mirrored her grin didn't help matters at all. If I didn't know better, I'd worry I'm in trouble.

#Mercedes always makes me cackle with the lines she sneaks in while I'm writing her POVs...#i'm forever laughing at the punch and *the toy* bit; PLS Mer 😂#Joseph somewhere at his Compound: “I wonder how things are going with those two.” The Voice: “Do you want to know?”😂😂#Nobody tell him!! it might take him out and save Calahan work #then there's them gaslighting each other about anything and everything #can y'all tell how much Jacob hated the white dress and was like: “an excuse to destroy it? YES PLEASE”...#it's ironic and hilarious as fuck that he ends up getting laid before John ever does in his own story 😂😂#oc: mercedes “mercy” sibley #ship: the deceiver and the wolf #jacob seed x mercedes sibley #jacob x mercedes #jacob seed x oc #wip: in hope of tomorrow #wip wednesday #wip whenever #snippet #wip stuff #wip snippet #snippets #characters #ocs #fc5 ocs #far cry 5 oc #ship dynamics #my ships #my ocs #character dialogue #oc character

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knowlesian · 2 years

Text

okay: i’ve done the toe scene from several thematic angles already, but i think a more granular text read is worth doing, because there are some very understandable misinterpretations of this scene floating about that rely on personal feelings and real world standards vs what the text gives us.

now, to be clear about something that feels... sort of obvious, but i will say anyway: when viewed in real life terms, the toe scene is very different. it’s bad to sneak up on people and cut off their toe in the night and make them eat said toe.

like, super really bad. for many reasons. we should not do such things, i do not endorse them. that’s legally and morally wrong and also, gross. yucky disgusting, in point of fact.

but you have to meet fiction where it’s at to analyze it from a ‘what’s the text trying to convey, what’s going on in-world’ level.

and in ofmd’s world, stede wasn’t super phased about ed’s face/off plan, lucius whacked jim in the head with a big branch trying to run away and then didn’t really bat an eyelash at jim stuffing him in a box and planning to murder him, etc. this is a world of outsized comical things happening, some of them violent. it’s like gonzo getting stretched on the rack in muppet treasure island— if we take that as the real world equivalent and go ‘gonzo is secretly traumatized, even if he’s grinning and yelling POOOOODLEY POODLEY POODLEY!!!’, it’s missing the specific rules the story is playing by.

we have to hold the standards of the text in place when it’s not the ‘i know this isn’t canon’s take, but this is how i want to play with the paper dolls anyway as is my right’ headcanon lane. which is not to devalue said lane— love me some of that lane, but it is a different lane.

now, all that said: within canon, we are not meant to be like ‘yay ed! good job! this is a thing we should root for and a good choice! do it more, this is actually good for anybody involved!’ it’s a choice ed makes in full possession of his faculties, and it is a bad one.

however: the toe scene doesn’t come out of nowhere, and the text does not set it up as a method of real punishment or act of singular brutality.

in e9, ed says he’s tired of “making some poor bloke eat his own toes as a laugh.” and drinking all day. and biting the heads off turtles. you know! just normal stuff. (he also says he wants to be just edward, which implies those activities are not what he considers just being himself which is sort of beside the point here, but a very deft piece of writing that i love and wanted to shout out.)

this show is very, very careful with wording in important moments, even while they allowed for an amazing amount of very cool improv to breathe in between those moments. arguing for a lack of intentionality in random areas seems to be a little bit of an odd stance— we all seem to agree they were very careful and thoughtful in general.

so ed tells us there: cutting off multiple toes and making somebody eat them was something that happened enough he brought it up alongside something as commonplace as drinking all day/turtle head mastication, and it was considered ‘a laugh’.

now, i’m with stede (and the overall narrative) when i say where’s the laugh in that? once again: i do not endorse the cutting off of toes. only you can prevent weird toe crimes, by not fucking doing them.

but e9 contextualizes this within the world of ofmd for us. when ed was hiding in plain sight under the mantle and then the legend of blackbeard, he cut off toes for a laugh. it seems like he never actually liked it that much via ‘poor bloke’, but either way the text has told us: blackbeard cut off toes and made people eat them, casual-like and often enough it’s mentioned in the same breath as going on a bender. the text reaffirms this in specific through ed in e9 and in general in e8 through jack.

so, that leads me to izzy. who has lived with and served under blackbeard for years, and who tells us he was initially attracted to that legend when he mentions becoming ed’s first mate in e4.

izzy says he was “honored to work for the legendary blackbeard. the most brilliant sailor i had ever met.”

again, the wording is precise: izzy just told us he first met blackbeard. the legendary blackbeard, to be exact, and the most brilliant sailor izzy had ever met.

so when they met ed was already a brilliant sailor. a legend with a name already made and established, one izzy was attracted to and wanted to work for.

izzy is not so hot at defining his subjective emotional realities or those of the people around him (or... noticing them happening at all) but we see no evidence he is incapable of recalling general timeline of empirical events— in fact, he accurately assesses the passage of literal time as a plot point but misreads the emotional room over and over as well in the same function, so the show is careful with this as they are careful with just about everything.

so izzy wanted to work for a legend. the text tells us so, and i want to be understanding about missing that subtlety in wording and wanting to create a backstory where ed and izzy built blackbeard together. in a vacuum, there’s nothing wrong with that! however, we don't live in a vacuum, we live in a society (tm), and giving izzy credit for ed’s past and his history and efforts unfortunately ends up unconsciously echoing some of the very same patterns the show is deconstructing by purposefully having izzy do that very thing.

because why would we think ed needed izzy to build blackbeard? on this show, of all shows, why would the text be implicitly arguing that ed needed a white man to help create his legend? that he was not smart and careful and talented enough to become the legendary blackbeard on his own, without izzy to guide his steps and keep him safe?

to be honest, on a less careful show, one that emulates old patterns instead of examining and then breaking them, aka ...most shows? i think that would be the story.

ofmd is much more self-aware, as far as i can tell. izzy tells us he wanted to work for a legend and a brilliant sailor; why would we not just believe the characters when they say ed became all that on his own, and izzy was drawn to the legend because ed is just that skilled despite any given limitation the world/his own mind or body puts on him?

that’s not a question i’m asking facetiously. there’s a reason ancient aliens-type shows and theories exist and those kind of people are very rarely like ‘i bet these ancient white people had no fucking idea what they were doing and needed aliens to teach them how to build their massive and technologically advanced civilizations’. sometimes they do argue that! i don't want to argue in bad faith, myself. it does happen on occasion that the accidental condescension gets spread around— but if you look at the bigger picture, there’s a clear pattern in which groups people find it hard to believe did anything impressive all on their own.

and again: i get missing the subtlety here, just like i get missing that fang’s izzy spewing out both ends anecdote is a set-up for a montezuma’s revenge/overall izzy is a metaphor colonizer stuff. i actually missed the montezuma joke myself on first watch, so i’m not out to scold anybody or to be like ‘fuck you for not knowing any of this already’; i’m just trying to point out the fly in the ointment, and hope people think deeper about this stuff before firing off a take that echoes these patterns on accident.

okay, all that said: back to the text and the toe itself.

it's very understandable to process the toe scene as a punishment. ed says threaten me again and more toes WILL BE TAKEN as he does it, which when removed from the larger context of eating toes tuesday being a regular thing in ed and thus also izzy’s old life, seems much more intense.

not to mention that’s how any normal human would react to what the fuck happens there. i myself would be HORRIFIED, once again i do not endorse non-consensual toe cannibalism and have no comment on any consensual versions other than ‘yeah, i read that hannibal fic too, and it was weird then hate to kink shame but i do not wish to have my toe cut off so i may consume it. please stop asking me about toe cannibalism as anything but thematic meat. this is a strange place to find myself in.’

but izzy is not us, the audience. izzy is a daddy moaning little nightmare. he wants to touch fire: he is the least healthy masochist on gay god’s green earth and the deep blue sea. he is weeeeeird about this shit and has never even heard of the acronym ss&c, let alone rack.

he is the sort of man who is like ED. BE A TOE CUTTING LEATHER DADDY. THAT IS WHAT IS COOL AND FUN FOR ALL OF US, NOBODY LOSES HERE. LOL EXCEPT ME! I LOSE A TOE, AND I MAKE IT EVEN WEIRDER WHEN I REFUSE TO BE ANYTHING BUT THRILLED ABOUT IT.

within the world ofmd created, they made sure to set up that Ye Olde Blackbearde cut off toes for a laugh. and one episode after they carefully gave us that precedent, izzy thrust a monstrous caricature of ed in his face and said: this is blackbeard. by no logical leap could izzy possibly be ignorant of the forced toe-eating, regularly done as just a fun little game to play at sea, just like drinking all day, or biting the heads off turtles. not if he’s known ed for years and was attracted to the legend of a man who did shit like that.

so izzy is saying to ed: be this guy again. the narrative made sure we know part of that is being the guy who casually cuts off toes for a laugh.

so when izzy smiles that big ridden hard and put away wet smile and proclaims hey la, hey la my boyfriend’s back? he's being sincere. he wanted ed to be the guy who cuts off toes like it’s not a thing again, and edward did that for him. he’s been reassured that the old blackbeard is himself again, and that’s why he says so.

(and that’s why canon set it up so that we would know: this toe thing is an old, established bit, which was not done as anything but a fun little prank.)

now, if anybody wants to write fic in the real world logic applies au, i will not poop upon that party. that’s not my issue, in part because i also think there’s utility to saying yeah but counterpoint, canon: i do what i want.

my angle is that if we talk textual analysis and actual canon, we have to meet stories and characters on their level and look at the world from their perspective.

ed and izzy (and jack, which is a lot of his narrative utility in e8 beyond just throwing a wrench in the works and setting up the arc with the navy and thus endgame, fuuuuuck me running these writers are just ridiculously good) both reaffirm this, in their separate ways.

textually, the person who most hates the toe scene is ed. izzy said be the guy cut toes off again; ed said he doesn’t want to do that. that’s the text itself, no extrapolation.

now, having said all that: i hope and assume izzy will come to realize this shit is very weird and bad behavior, knock it off and then course correct.

to own my personal bias, my activist fantasy is not that men like izzy— or my personal izzys, for values of people who actively hurt me in specific— suffer or that they feel exactly what they made me feel. my fantasy is they wake up one morning, look at me, and go well fuck. i’ve been kinda shitting the bed here, huh? i’m gonna fight for my natural allies now, not against them. solidarity!!!! then i am validated, they can become happier people, and there’s one more of Us and one less of Them. the better world i’m fighting for ultimately wins, in that fantasy.

i’m not saying that’s where anyone else has to be, to be clear; it’s just where i’m at.

so when i try to read the tea leaves on the potential of that being what happens with izzy, i could 100000000% be reading in what i would like to see and not what is there. that’s always a thing that could happen, on any given prediction, and to say otherwise would be silly.

however: when it comes to the toe and its precedent and context, that’s not attempting to suss out future movement. that’s reading the text with my own biases acknowledged and set to the side as much as possible, and trying to see what the characters of this world, with this world’s rules feel about what happened vs what i would feel, in my world with my rules.

because, i must reiterate to close: oh GOD, i do not endorse the nonconsensual cutting off of toes. just don’t do it.

tldr: it’s important to recognize the tropes we might be reinforcing on accident, and though the toe scene is horrifying real world terms in terms of how izzy the character in the text’s world processes it, the toe is ed coming through for him and being the blackbeard of the old days— who we were purposefully told used to regularly cut off toes and feed them to people as a laugh.

...and just. because i think i might have to, just one final time for good measure: please don’t cut off people’s toes. nothing in this piece is an endorsement of doing that in our real world. it's bad.

#our flag means death #like: look. please do not cut off toes i am begging people not to misunderstand me #in the real world none of this is okay #but in the world of the show (which is the world i am analyzing) and not of headcanon #they gave us all this context and setup for a reason #also: i know nobody is consciously being all ancient aliens about ed and izzy #and yet... it is happening #everybody's gotta do their own thing! i am not fun police here #but the pattern exists and it is what it is #and if your fun means ignoring why exactly people like me hate ancient aliens #then i think that's an indication to consider: why is my fun not fun if i'm honest about history at the same time #and does that mean anything else?#anyway yes now back to lucius and pete and how stede has filled the ship with chintz #but to keep it real they fuck on the floor #my ofmd meta

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