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#female deputy
felassanis · 1 year
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axelflare9700 · 9 months
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Deputy Riley Colt
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ashalle-art · 2 years
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One of this week's prompts in my server was "Shut up" "Make me" And it just had to be Eve and Jacob <3
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Thank you @schoute for bringing Kit to life. She looks so GOOD! My horrible ginger woman is absolutely stunning! You've worked wonders!
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flare-queen · 8 months
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Deputy stuck inside the bunker with Joseph Seed, you can imagine tension was high, emotions strong and well when shit hits the fan, bad or good things can happen such as the release of pleasure.
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rookthewrathful · 1 year
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Deputy Chell Rook, professional trouble-maker!
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adermand · 2 years
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@assassinregrets​
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starlightreign · 1 year
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Promoting this here even though I don't really promote my ao3 but uh I started a Deputy!reader x Joseph fic that deals with a lot (check tags for details) and I quite enjoy writing the dynamic cause it's interesting and I think their dynamic plays together quite well.
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A New Fic
After literally a year and a half since posting anything my dumb brain finally managed to finish one of the 30 WIPs I’ve been working on.
It’s Far Cry 5, Jacob Seed x female Deputy if that’s your thing.
It Could Only Be Us, It Could Only Be You
Enjoy.
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direwombat · 2 years
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‘You got guts, I’ll give you that’ for Jacob and Sybil if you’d like! ☺️
Sorry this took so long to fill! Was havin’ trouble coming up with a scenario lmao, but here’s an angsty Jake and Syb interaction that takes place  somewhere between Recognition-Of-The-Self-In-The-Other and The Fall, wherein Sybille is still searching for her brother who disappeared the night of the Reaping. 
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“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Jacob says from where he stands in the doorway to his office. Few are stupid enough to try to break into the Veterans Center, and even fewer are skilled enough to actually succeed. The guard who was supposed to watch the door is slumped in the corner, a knife protruding from his neck. 
The Deputy sits at his desk with her feet kicked up, her muddy boots dripping all over his files. She’s dressed as a Chosen. The dark gray of her jacket stained bloody red, and she wears the balaclava as a scarf. She flips idly through a manila folder, not bothering to look up at him as he closes the door behind him. The lock clicks with the same finality of a gunshot or nail driving into a coffin as he shuts himself inside the room with her. 
He approaches the desk and leans over it, resting his weight on his knuckles. “What are you doing here, Sybille?”
Finally, she looks up at him with a scowl, her green eyes hard and sharp. “Where’s my brother, Jacob?” she asks.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies. 
“Ta gueule,” she growls, slapping the file onto the desk and rising to her feet. She rests her knuckles on the desk as well, mirroring him and invading his personal space. “Your man, Shaw, was a ranger, same as Augustine.”
“And?”
“He was supposed to be with him at the ranger’s station the night of the Reaping. Only ‘stead of bein’ there, he was busy huntin’ me down through the woods, leavin’ my brother all alone.”
“Your brother’s a grown man. I’m sure he’s fine.”
She bares her teeth. “I found Augustine’s backpack scattered on a pile of rocks near the station. Pool of blood, too. Only, there weren’t no body. Now, I checked with Eli an’ he says the Militia ain’t seen ‘im. Neither has the rest of the Resistance. Which leads me to believe some of your men picked him up.”
Jacob hums. That is indeed what happened. His hunters found Augustine on the rocks with a broken leg and brought him back to the Vets Center. Jacob has no use for the lame and was prepared to use the man as food for the Judges, but after Shaw told him he was the Deputy’s brother, he changed his mind. The man was far more useful as leverage. A tool to be used against his sister. “And the thought that he might’ve crawled away to safety or died elsewhere never occured to you?” 
Her eyes narrow. “Weren’t no blood trail to suggest that’s the case,” she hisses. “This is a courtesy, Jacob. I’m askin’ you nicely. Where. Is. My. Brother?”
“He’s not here,” he says. Which is true. 
It isn’t what Sybille wants to hear. Her hand darts out to grab at the collar of his jacket, pulling him even closer. He can smell her breath. The mintiness of her toothpaste barely covers the stale scent of cigarettes. “That ain’t an answer, Jacob,” she growls. 
“He’s safe,” he tells her, which is also true.
But it isn’t good enough either. Her fist twists his collar, drawing him in until their heads bump together. “That ain’t an answer, either.”
His expression shifts, moving from mild amusement to something more patronizing. “Sybille,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension, but then he feels the sharp point of a blade pressing against his ribcage. 
Her voice drops, low, quiet, and threatening. “If the next words outta your mouth ain’t the truth, swear to God, I’ll gut’cha like a fish.” She applies just a little more pressure to the blade, prodding it emphatically just under his ribs.
And then he smiles something genuine. There’s not a doubt in his mind that in this moment she’d stick and disembowel him. Heat stirs low in his abdomen, and he finally tells her what she wants. “He’s at Joseph’s compound.”
Sybille stares at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowed and searching, but ultimately judges him to be telling the truth. She releases her grasp on his jacket and leans back, blade still in hand but no longer pointing it at Jacob’s chest. “And why, pray tell, is he there?”
“He didn’t go unwillingly if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You’re real good at not answerin’ my questions,” she says harshly.
Jacob just shrugs. “Joe’s words speak to those in need of family.”
“Augustine has family,” she snarls.
“Eight years is an awfully long time to go without seeing his sister. You didn’t even visit him while you were on leave. Some people would feel abandoned.”
She punches him square in the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps. “You’re a goddamn hypocrite, Jacob Seed,” she seethes, her eyes burning with rage. “I raised that boy. Put him through college. I sacrificed everythin’ for him.”
“Including time spent,” he says coolly, rubbing at the bruise beginning to bloom. He’s aware he has no room to talk given his own family history, but he can’t help but enjoy needling under her skin. She’s a beacon of wrath, and he licks his lips as his eyes briefly dart down to where he would normally see the angry scars on her chest were she not wearing the uniform of one of his men.
“I’m gettin’ him back,” she says, her teeth bared once more. “And when I do, I’m arrestin’ your brother. Gonna take him away from you, like you took mine.”
The heat in Jacob’s core intensifies. The lust for revenge looks so fucking good on her. 
“And when I’m done,” she adds, “I’m comin’ for you, next.”
Jacob’s smile widens, his grin just as biting as her anger. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”
She glares at him, pulling the balaclava up over her face. “Oh, we certainly will,” she promises. “We certainly fuckin’ will.” And without another word, she moves towards the door, unlocking it. She slips quietly out of the room, leaving Jacob entirely alone. 
He turns his attention to the corpse in the corner and sighs. Looks like he’s going to have to increase security for next time she tries to break in. She deserves the challenge.
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felassanis · 1 year
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My first time playing Far Cry 5 last year I did like IMMEDIATELY latch onto John. Like his character was so intriguing in both tragedy and fucked uppness that I gobbled that man up like he's Sunday dinner.
The problem is that the game ever so slightly pushes the player to complete his region first. And because I wanted to experience every moment I could squeeze out of John I did his region with speed. And of course when you complete his region...
You kill him.
I expected it. But that strange emptiness came upon me anyway. I just felt bad for him (he's horrible and violent) but I still felt bad knowing his backstory.
But then I had the REST of the game to do and lemme tell you. Loving John and doing his region FIRST gave me some fucking strange moments.
Like driving through the Whitetail mountains and immediately stopping the truck and just staring into nothingness when "Oh John" comes on the radio. A usually up beat song pulling goddamn tears from my Deputy as she sits alone in the car.
Feeling a bit GUILTY when I finally got around to destroying the YES sign and wishing I hadn't done it because it would've been some sort of reminder of John always.
Listening to Joseph's phone call in Seed ranch and just OUCH. "I want to see you die an old man, John" and "your sin will take a new form"
And then. I did every region. Killed Jacob. Killed Faith. And Joseph....fucking Joseph has the audacity to say
"John was wrong about your sin"
And I just remember audibly saying "Don't u dare say his fucking name" because I just kept thinking this fucker is the reason John got WORSE. How he used John to expand the cult. How HE UTILISED John's desire to gain his approval to USE HIM. And I mean I was loving it! I was getting so worked up like "how DARE u say my crazy husbands name 😤 "
Anyway yeah. Farcry 5 still haunts me. I've not known peace since I played it
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axelflare9700 · 7 months
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They won't let the Deputy out of the Bathroom
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ashalle-art · 2 years
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when you install mods just to take photos with the husband. The Seed rot is strong folks.
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flare-queen · 6 months
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Deputy Riley Colt quick sketch. Into the bliss..
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strangefable · 2 years
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Far Cry 5 Deputy Intro - Micah Hale
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Micah is tough, stoic, sarcastic, and takes no shit. (Unless you’re a cute fluffy animal or Nick Rye.) She has several scars and tattoos, and a storied history from her isolated childhood in the wilds of Montana to her years in a criminal organization in Atlanta, Georgia. She returned to Hope County to bury her father, and his old friend, Earl Whitehorse, offered her a job and a fresh start.
She’d hoped to walk away from her past, but unbeknownst to her, the impending arrest of Joseph Seed will set her on a collision course with that past: John.
Read about her on AO3. Her face claim is Ana De Armas. Her aesthetics blog is @micah-hale​.
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